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supercantaloupe · 4 years

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okay yeah actually, i’ll bite. i’ve got some of my own thoughts about the unsleeping city and cultural representation and i’m gonna make a post about them now, i guess. i’ll put it under a cut though because this post is gonna be long.

i wanna start by saying i love dimension 20 and i really really enjoy the unsleeping city. i look forward to watching new episodes every week, and getting hooked on d20 as a whole last summer really helped pull me out of a pandemic depression, and i’m grateful to have this cool show to be excited about and interested in and to have met so many cool people to talk about it with.

that being said, however, i think there is a risk run in representing any group of people/their culture when you have the kind of setting that tuc has. by which i mean, tuc is set in a real world with real people and real human cultures in it. unlike fantasy high or a crown of candy where everything is made up (even if rooted in real-world cultures), tuc is explicitly rooted in reality, and all of its diversity -- both the ups and downs that go with it. and especially set in new york of all places, one of the most densely, diversely populated cities on earth. the cast is 7 people; it’s great that those 7 people come from a variety of backgrounds and identities and all bring their own unique perspectives to the table, and it’s great that those people and the entire crew are generally conscious of themselves and desire to tell stories/represent perspectives ethically. but you simply cannot authentically represent every culture or every perspective in the world (or even just in a city) when your cast is 7 people. it’s an impossible task. this is inherent to the setting, and acknowledged by the cast, and by brennan especially, who has been on record saying how one of the exciting aspects of doing a campaign set in nyc is its diversity, the fact that no two new yorkers have the same perspective of new york. i think that’s a good thing -- but it does have its challenges too, clearly.

i’m not going to go into detail on the question of whether or not tuc’s presentation of asian and asian american culture is appropriative/offensive or not. first of all, i don’t feel like it’s 100% fair to judge the show completely yet, since it’s a prerecorded season and currently airing midseason, so i don’t yet know how things wrap up. secondly, i’m not asian or asian american. i can have my own opinions on that content in the show, but i think it’s worth more to hear actual asian and asian american voices on this specific aspect of the show. having an asian american cast member doesn’t automatically absolve the show of any criticisms with regard to asian american cultural representation/appropriation, whether those criticisms are made by dozens of viewers or only a handful of them. regardless, i don’t think it’s my place as someone who is not asian to speak with any authority on that issue, and i know for a fact that there are asian american viewers sharing their own opinions. their thoughts in this instance hold more water than mine, i think.

what i will comment on in more depth, though, is a personal frustration with tuc. i’m jewish; i’ve never really been shy about that fact on my page here. i’m not from new york, but i visit a few times a year (or i did before covid anyway, lol), and i have some family from nyc. nyc, to me, is a jewish city. and for good reason, since it’s home to one of the largest jewish populations of the country, and even the world, and aspects of jewish culture (including culinary, like bagels and pastrami, and linguistic, like the common use of yiddish words and phrases in english colloquial speech) are prevalent and celebrated among jews and goyim alike. when i think of nyc, i think of a jewish city; that’s not everybody’s new york, but that’s my new york, and thats plenty of other people’s new york too. so i do find myself slightly disappointed or frustrated in tuc for its, in my opinion, rather stark lack of jewish representation.

now, i’m not saying that one of the PCs should have been jewish, full stop. i love to headcanon iga as jewish even though canon does not support that interpretation, and i’m fine with that. she’s not my character. it’s possible that simply no one thought of playing a jewish character, i dunno. but also, and i can’t be sure about this, i’m willing to bet that none of the players really wanted to play a jewish character because they didn’t want to play a character of a marginalized culture they dont belong to in the interest of avoiding stereotyping or offensive representation/cultural appropriation. (i don’t know if any of the cast members are jewish, but i’m assuming not.) and the concern there is certainly appreciated; there’s not a ton of mainstream jewish rep out there, and often what we get is either “unlikeable overly conservative hassidic jew” or “jokes about their bar mitzvah/one-off joke about hanukkah and then their jewishness is never mentioned ever again,” which sucks. it would be really cool to see some more good casual jewish rep in a well-rounded, three-dimensional character in the main cast of a show! even if there are a couple of stumbles along the way -- nobody is perfect and no two jews have the same level of knowledge, dedication, and adherence to their culture.

but at the same time, i look at characters like iga and i really do long for a jewish character to be there. siobhan isn’t polish, yet she’s playing a characters whose identity as a polish immigrant to new york is very central to her story and arc. and part of me wonders why we can’t have the same for a jewish character. if not a PC, then why not an NPC? again, i’m jewish, and i am not native, but in my opinion i think the inclusion of jj is wonderful -- i think there are even fewer native main characters in mainstream media than there are jewish ones, and it’s great to see a native character who is both in touch with their culture as well as not being defined solely by their native-ness. to what extent does it count as ‘appropriative’ because brennan is a white dude? i dunno, but i’m like 99% sure they talked to sensitivity consultants to make sure the representation was as ethical as they could get it, and anyway, i can’t personally see and glaring missteps so far. but again, i’m not native, and if there are native viewers with their own opinions on jj, i’d be really interested in hearing them.

but getting back to the relative lack of jewish representation. it just...disappoints me that jewishness in new york is hardly ever even really mentioned? again, i know we’re only just over halfway through season 2, but also, we had a whole first season too. and it’s definitely not all bad. for example: willy! gd, i love willy so much. him being a golem of williamsburg makes me really really happy -- a jewish mythological creature animated from clay/mud (in this case bricks) to protect a jewish community (like that of williamsburg, a center for many of nyc’s jews) from threat. golem have so often been taken out of their original context and turned into evil monsters in fantasy settings, especially including dnd. (even within other seasons of d20! crush in fh being referred to as a “pavement golem” always rubbed me the wrong way, and i had hoped they’d learned better after tuc but in acoc they refer to another monster as a “corn golem” which just disappointed me all over again.) so the fact that tuc gets golems right makes my jewish heart very happy.

and yet...he doesn’t show up that much? sure, in s1, he’s very helpful when he does, but in s2 so far he shows up once and really does not say or do much of anything. he speaks with a lot more yiddish-influenced language than other characters, but if you didn’t know those words were specifically yiddish/jewish, you might not be able to otherwise clock the fact that willy is jewish. and while willy is a jewish mythological creature who is jewish in canon, he isn’t human. there are no other direct references to judaism, jewish characters, or jewish culture in the unsleeping city beyond him.

there are, in fact, two other canon jewish characters in tuc. but...here’s where i feel the most frustration, i think. the two canon jewish humans in tuc are stephen sondheim and robert moses. both of whom are real actual people, so it’s not like we can just pick and choose what their cultural backgrounds are. as much as i love stephen sondheim, i think there are inherent issues with including real world people as characters in a fictional setting, especially if they are from living/recent memory (sondheim is literally still alive), but anyway, sondheim and moses are both actual jewish people. from watching tuc alone you probably would not be able to guess that sondheim is jewish -- nothing from his character except name suggests it, and i wouldn’t even fault you for not thinking ‘sondheim’ is a jewish-sounding surname (and i dislike the idea/attitude/belief that you can tell who is or isn’t jewish by the sound of their name). and yeah, i’m not going to sit here and be like “brennan should have made sondheim more visibly jewish in canon!” because, like, he’s a real human being and it’s fucking weird to portray him in a way that isn’t as close to how he publicly presents himself, which is not in fact very identifiably jewish? i don’t know, this is what i mean by it’s inherently weird and arguably problematic to portray real living people as characters in a fictional setting, but i digress. sondheim’s jewish, even if you wouldn’t know it; not exactly a representation win.

and then there’s bob moses. you might be able to guess that he’s jewish from canon, actually. there’s the name, of course. but more insidious to me are the specifics of his villainy. greedy and powerhungry, a moneyman, a lich whose power is stored in a phylactery...it does kind of all add up to a Yikes from me. (in the stock market fight there’s a one-off line asking if he has green skin; it’s never really directly acknowledged or answered, but it made me really uncomfortable to hear at first and it’s stuck with me since viewing for the first time.) the issue for me here is that the most obviously jewish human character is the season’s bbeg, and his villainy is rooted in very antisemitic tropes and stereotypes.

i know this isn’t all brennan’s fault -- robert moses was a real ass person and he was in fact jewish, a powerhungry and greedy moneyman, a big giant racist asshole, etc. i’m not saying that jewish characters can’t be evil, and i’m not saying brennan should have tried to be like “this is my NPC robert christian he’s just like bob moses but instead he’s a goy so it’s okay” because...that would be fuckin weird bro. and bob moses was a real person who was jewish and really did do some heinous shit with his municipal power. i’m not necessarily saying brennan should have picked/created a different character to be the villain. i’m not even saying that he shouldn’t have made bob moses a lich (although, again, it doesn’t 100% sit right with me). but my point here is that bob moses is one of a grand total of three canon jewish characters in tuc, of which only two humans, of whom he is the one you’d most easily guess would be jewish and is the most influenced by antisemitic stereotypes/tropes. had there been more jewish representation in the show at all, even just some neutral jewish NPCs, this would not be as much of a problem as it is to me. but halfway through season 2, so far, this is literally all we get. and that bums me out.

listen, i really like tuc. i love d20. but the fact that it is set in a real world place with real world people does inherently raise challenges when it comes to ethical cultural representation. especially when the medium of the show is a game whose creatures, lore, and mechanics have been historically rooted in some questionable racial/cultural views. and dnd is making progress to correct some of those misguided views of older sourcebooks by updating them to more equitably reflect real world racial/cultural sensitivities; that’s a good thing! but these seasons, of course, were recorded before that. the game itself has some questionable cultural stuff baked into it, and that is (almost necessarily) going to be brought to the table in a campaign set in a real-world place filled with real-world people of diverse real-world cultures. the cast can have sensitivity consultants and empathy and the best intentions in the world, and they’ll still fuck up from time to time, that’s okay. your mileage may vary on whether or not it’s still worth sticking around with the show (or the fandom) through that. for me, it does not yet outweigh all the things i like about the show, and i’m gonna continue watching it. but it’s still very worth acknowledging that the cast is 7 people who cannot possibly hope to authentically or gracefully represent every culture in nyc. it’s an unfortunate limitation of the medium. yet it’s also still worthwhile to acknowledge and discuss the cultural representation as it is in the show -- both the goods and the bads, the ethically solid and the questionably appropriative -- and even to hold the creators accountable. (decently, though. i’m definitely not advocating anybody cyberbully brennan on twitter or whatever.) the show and its representation is far from perfect, but i also don’t think it ever could be. still, though, it could always be better, and there’s a worthwhile discussion to be had in the wheres, hows, and whys of that.

#sasha reviews #sasha speaks #the unsleeping city #unsleeping city #long post #dimension 20 #gd i stayed up way too late to write this #tuc #the unsleeping city chapter 2 #the unsleeping city 2 #tuc2 #antisemitism

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perseephoneee · 4 years

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“Do me a favor, kiss my ass” + five

sooo I’m back writing for umbrella academy so feel free to send in requests. also despite being (scarily) close in age to good ol’ aiden, this is as much “sexual” activity as I’d write for him. he’s a minor. we will respect that.

—————

He came in every day for a cup of coffee.

You noticed because you came in every day for the same reason. Sitting in your corner, reading your book, you liked to observe what was happening around you. The people, the atmosphere, the ongoings of a world you scarcely participated in. So when a boy dressed in a private school uniform starts appearing day after day after day, you notice.

Despite being inherently shy, you also have guts, which means you have no problem walking up to him one day at the counter and taking a seat.

“So, what school?” You ask, setting your book down next to your coffee as you get comfortable.

“Excuse me?” He says, looking at you as if only just noticing your presence.

“Your uniform, I’m assuming it’s not a fashion statement?” You chuckle, cocking your head to the side to peer at him. A closer inspection, he’s around your age, and the way his eyes stare at you make you intrigued.

“Umbrella Academy, though it’s not a school,” he sighs, tapping his fingers against the counter impatiently. He looks at the clock and frowns.

“In a hurry?” You question, popping open your book yet continuing to observe him.

“Yes, I have five days, and my fam— colleagues— are incompetent,” he straightens his jacket almost by habit, reluctantly taking a seat at the counter.

“5 days till what?”

“The apocalypse.”

“Yikes,” is all you say, not even looking up from your book. He looks at you closer.

“Are you not concerned about that at all?”

“Of course I am, but what am I supposed to do?” You laugh, putting your bookmark in place. “I can’t run from my extinction.”

He looks at you through a calculated gaze, a slight smile on his lips. “I’m Five.”

“I’m 16,” you smile, offering your hand. He looks at you in confusion. “Are we not saying our age?”

“My name is Five,” he cocks an eyebrow. “My age is 58.”

“Good for me,” you chuckle as he shakes your hand. “I like older men.”

“What?”

“So, what’s your plan with averting the apocalypse?” You ignore his questioning gaze about your last comment. You’d be kidding yourself if you didn’t find him attractive in a boyish sort of way. He was no James Dean, but he had a captivating look that made your heartbeat just a little faster.

“I don’t know,” he answers, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s a shitty plan.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Maybe I will,” you smirk, sipping your coffee as you look at him. “Let’s start at the top.”

Five, for whatever reason, tells you everything about him. He finds it weird that you take his history without much of a fuss, but you chalk it up to being an avid reader. By the time it’s nightfall, the manager is kicking you two out of the door, and you’re laughing at some ridiculous story he’s telling you. You hold your stomach as you stumble to the curb.

“I want to show you something,” Five chuckles, offering his hand. You take it without hesitation, and suddenly your insides are turned outside, and you find yourself on top of building staring at Dallas from above. It takes you a second to readjust.

“Did we just do your portal thingy?” You breathe, sitting on the ground to gain your footing.

“Teleporting? Yes. I find this is the only place I can think,” Five says, sitting next to you. His knee touches yours, and you find yourself zeroing in on that little interaction.

“You do a lot of thinking, don’t you ever have fun?” You laugh, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“I can have fun,” he exclaims, peering at you.

“Really? It sounds like you live with a stick up your ass.”

“What do you know about my ass?”

“That there’s a stick up it.”

He shoves you slightly, but there’s a grin on his face. You can’t help but want to tease him.

“My brother, Diego, is the uptight one,@ Five scoffs.

“Sounds like he’s getting more action, though.”

“What does that mean?” Five questions, looking at you offended.

“It sounds like he has a mental patient girlfriend while you’re over here getting your shorts in a twist.”

“I can do get action,” Five stands up, hands on his hips.

“When’s the last time you talked to a girl other than your sisters?”

“I’m talking to you,” he points out, but you roll your eyes.

“I don’t count,” you laugh, standing up and crossing your arms.

“Why not?”

“You didn’t pursue me romantically.”

“Didn’t I?”

“Did you?” You inquire, taking a step towards him. “It just feels like you insulted me a lot.”

“It’s light criticism.”

“Here’s some light criticism, be a better conversationalist,” you retort, leaning in closer to him. He steps towards you, humor in his eyes.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so cynical.”

“Five, do me a favor, kiss my ass,” you laugh.

“I will,” he says, and suddenly you’re aware of how close you are.

“Good,” you respond, looking at him. Suddenly his lips are on yours, and you feel his hands on your hips tugging you closer. You instinctively run your fingers through his hair, tugging the brown locks slightly and causing him to groan. You respond by deepening the kiss, slowly pulling the two of you towards the ground until you fall over, rather ungracefully. You’re basically in his lap as he holds you tightly, his lips on yours as if you’re a lifeline. His thumb traces a line from your jaw to your throat, and you feel yourself melt. Suddenly he pulls away, and you can’t help but feel disappointed.

“I know a lovely television store where we can continue this in,” he breathes heavily. “And would you like to help save the world?”

“That all sounds lovely,” you respond, smiling as he teleports you two away from the nightlife of Dallas.

#the umbrella academy imagines #the umbrella academy #tua #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves x reader #five hargeeeves

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caffeinated-cryptid · 4 years

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you got an ego so big (it'll eat you alive).

roman-centric hurt/comfort (w/ remus, patton and virgil).

11.7k words | AO3 link | warnings: self-hatred, semi-intentional self-destruction, various injuries, arguing, remus-typical jokes and topics.

“At the best of times, Roman’s job was a tightrope act between maintaining a healthy amount of self-confidence and the ability to adapt and take criticism. Throughout his life he walks this line many times, always with the expectation that if he were to fall one way or the other, no one would be there to catch him.

But sometimes when you’re up miles high, it can become difficult to see the safety net on the ground below you.

(aka an expansion on the premise that a bruised ego causes literal injuries and the issues this could cause when you're an insecure prince with a need to please and the weight of the world on your shoulders).”

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

To be overly aware of your own self is often associated with negative traits, such as narcissism, self-consciousness or a sensitivity to mistakes. Although to some with a proclivity towards the spotlight, it can become an inadvertent consequence of over-analyzing yourself in order to achieve those flawless performances. Naturally, gaining any sort of notoriety and attempting to retain that positive image means becoming intimately aware of your faults and staying open to change, taking criticism to heart all the while keeping relatably humble. On the other hand, it may also mean letting that same criticism become your one sole focus, tearing you down instead of becoming a rung in the ladder that's supposed to take you to higher places.

Roman often found that navigating these gray areas was a momentous task. To be proud of his work, but not be too unbearably egotistical to the point that it blinded him. To accept criticism but not allow the pursuit of perfection to destroy him.

His role was truly a balance; a thin tightrope he constantly had to traverse.

And on occasion, he would end up slipping.

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

I - bonds that tie us.

Roman first learned of his job as the ego when Thomas was young. With Remus at the helm of most of the subconscious and instinctual stuff as his id, perhaps he should've assumed that he would have a similar mirrored purpose beyond simply confidence, however it hadn't ever really come into play until one afternoon when the two of them were busy playing in The Imagination.

They had just concluded a close duel against each other and were putting their weapons away (cardboard ones, since Feelings didn't want them running around with real weapons once he found out they were using them to fight, and because Fear and Lies often fretted about them doing something stupid and getting hurt). Usually neither of them held the lead for long during their matches since they were so well-matched, but today Remus had won easily, which Roman chalked up to him feeling off ("Yeah right. Don't be such a sore loser." "It's true!"). Either way, Remus would be bragging about the victory until the next time they got the opportunity to duel, and that meant he was already rubbing it in as they prepared to leave.

On their way to the exit, Remus had taken the lead at some point and was throwing out ideas about they should do later when Roman unexpectedly paused and doubled over, clutching his head. Remus didn't notice that he'd stopped until he heard a groan and turned around.

"What's wrong? Didn't hit you too hard, did I?" He asked with a grin as if he assumed that Roman was still playing- perhaps trying to make up an excuse for his terrible loss.

"I- Dunno. My head hurts…" Roman cringed, eyes screwed shut.

Remus' smile faltered when he realized it might not be a joke and he walked back, peeling Romans hands away from his forehead. Underneath was a large red patch of irritated skin which looked set to bruise. His frown deepened because he definitely didn't cause that, nor did he witness any incidents during the day which would be the cause. "How'd that happen?

"Dunno!" He repeated, eyes going blank for a moment while he caught up with what was happening outside. The two of them were usually much too distracted when they were in The Imagination to pay attention to everything that transpired in the real world, especially on weekdays like this when Thomas would be in school and Creativity wasn't exactly needed during most classes. "...Thomas was told off for slacking in front of the entire class and he got some bad grades on his report card… He's feeling embarrassed, I think.

Remus was confused by how this was relevant until he pieced together that the two events were linked to what was happening to his brother. His eyes widened in realization before they settled into determination. "Then I'll fight him until he stops feeling bad."

That startled a laugh out of Roman, until his head started pounding and he cut himself off with a grimace. "...’Can't do that."

He laughed too, in hopes that it would lift Roman's spirits again. "Can too! I'll figure it out, then he'll be too busy worrying about his broken bones to care about what some dumb teacher said. Maybe then he'll get to skip school for a while and do something funner like-"

"Remus." Roman hissed over him, overcome with a sudden dizzy spell. His hand found Remus’ shoulder for purchase, which stopped his twin in his rant.

Remus stared at him in alarm. This seemed serious, and he didn't do too well with handling serious things. "Do... Do you want me to get Feelings? Or Learning? Or Lies?"

"No. None of them. I just wanna go home." He whined, leaning more and more against Remus for support.

' Home' in their case was what they called their shared room. It was where they always returned to at the end of a long day, and no matter what had happened, they could always feel their troubles wash away as they sat in their own little world once more. Roman longed for that feeling, to escape the too-bright sun of The Imagination which now felt like it was blinding him and just lay down for a while.

Remus nodded hesitantly, the plans he had spun of pulling a prank on Fear and Lies forgotten. Normally the two Creativities preferred to find the door of The Imagination manually (they claimed it made the experience more immersive when they were out on an adventure), but instead he reached towards the exit and the world twisted around them, ejecting them out together. They came out the other side back in their room, next to their bunk bed. Instead of climbing up to his bed on the top, Roman just about threw himself onto Remus' sheets. Somehow he managed to ignore the weird smell of the fabric that he always complained about, which spoke greatly about his current well-being.

Remus hovered behind him, unsure of what to do, when Roman let out another pained noise and curled up tighter. "What now?!"

"Thomas...parents.

Since that didn't really explain anything, Remus decided to check up on what was happening outside himself. Thomas' parents had asked to see his report card and they were giving him the 'not mad but disappointed talk', while Thomas was shrunk into himself in shame. Yikes, Learning mustn't be feeling too hot about this either. But right now his focus was on his brother, who the sight of in such a sorry state filled him with rage.

"Now I want to fight them too." Remus muttered darkly. "Take the knife from the kitchen that dad uses to cut up turkeys and make them stop talking forever. Then we won't have to deal with this again and you won't-"

Oh right, Roman was still injured. Focus, Remus. Concern. Right, he was concerned for his brother, who was hurting like he had never seen, even after their fights. What could he do about this? He was always so much better at destroying things than fixing them, so having to deal with a situation like this without any sort of guidance made him nervous.

"You can't hurt them." Roman protested weakly.

"Maybe if I want to enough I could!"

Remus walked around the bunk bed and settled down on the side Roman was facing towards. From this angle he could see new bruises spattered along his brother's arms. In a grotesque way, the different shades came together like a watercolour painting. Except instead of a canvas, they were on a body- Remus shook his head. Focus! He could draw sickly yellow and purple-inspired pictures later, when Roman would be in the mood to be more good-humored about it.

"You shouldn't, then. It's bad."

"...Alright then. What should I do Ro-bro?"

Roman cracked open one eye and looked at him. "Stay? Until Thomas feels better?"

Considering he was just grounded for the weekend, Remus wasn't sure how long it would take for this hit to Thomas' self esteem to blow over, but despite knowing this he nodded anyway.

"Okay."

He laid down next to Roman, not commenting when he hid his face against the covers and started sniffling, or when he eventually fell asleep, curled against his side like how they would sleep when they were newly-split. When Learning knocked in their door to tell them that dinner was ready, he made a weak excuse that they were busy and would eat later.

Without even asking he knew Roman would want this to be kept between them, despite how the others would undoubtedly fuss and nurse him back to health. And perhaps that was the reason why. His brother always wanted to appear infallible to the others and did so replicating the heroes from the stories they read, which often meant refusing to admit when he needed help and trying to do everything himself. If you asked Remus, he was trying way too hard to be like the Creativity that came before them, which was silly because they were different now and as they were, they needed each other.

Remus closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep too. This seemed like a big deal, so Roman's pride would have to pass eventually for him to seek help. Right?

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

II - even without dying you're dead to me.

In retrospect, Remus had underestimated Roman’s ability to keep a secret (maybe because he was so quick these days to run over to Feelings, now Morality, whenever Remus did something to upset him. Tattle-tale).

Now that they were older and their roles were more defined, their once shared-room had separated into two to adjust to this change. Even though it had been long enough that he should be used to the feeling of being alone, there were still times where Remus had to try to not let it bother him when he looked up at night, expecting to see the familiar underside of a top bunk and instead only finding the ceiling he had painted an underwater-themed mural on.

On nights like this, far too sentimental to enter a peaceful rest, they would go sleep in each other's rooms, saying nothing as they tried to pretend they were as close as they once were. Remus groaned into his pillow, fighting that annoying urge to seek comfort. He was a teenager now, he didn't want to be so attached at the hip to a side who had started looking at him with disgust and fear instead of the fondness they used to share. Sometimes he couldn't help it though, clinging to the days when everything felt simple and the biggest thing they had to worry about was finding time to create the things they enjoyed. At the very least he was glad that Roman didn't mock him for his occasional bouts of uncharacteristic sentiment; that would solidify for him that there were no remnants of the relationship they once had left.

With that depressing thought, he rolled out of bed. He couldn't sleep tonight so he was going to make that Roman's problem; that always cheered him up. Perhaps if he hadn't made such a disturbed face when Remus had talked about the brazen bull he had made earlier that day, he would feel a bit more sympathy for waking his brother up in the middle of the night. Buuut he didn't and he was feeling petty, so without a second thought he sunk out and into Romans room.

"WAKEY WAKEY~!" Remus clashed two cymbals together like one of those nightmare-inducing wind-up monkeys, only to belatedly realize the bed he was facing was empty.

He blinked, both in confusion and to adjust his eyes to the unexpected light of the room. Both of them may be night owls, but Roman would usually be asleep by 2am at least, and it was way past that hour. Looking around the room, his eyes latched onto the vanity where his brother was sitting, looking incredibly startled from the deafening crash of metal against metal.

"Get out!" He yelled once his shock faded into indignation, glaring at Remus.

Remus didn’t respond, staring at the medical supplies spread across the surface. Roman was in the middle of wrapping a compression bandage around his thigh, which he abandoned as soon as Remus had entered.

"Did you get something stuck in your ear again? I'm not in the mood to deal with you tonight, Remus. Leave ."

"What happened?" He blurted out before he could even think about the question.

"Doesn't matter. In case you've forgotten, the door's right there. Feel free to use it at any point."

Instead of complying (because when had Remus ever done that for anyone? No no, it was always more exciting to do the opposite of what people ask and see what happens), he crossed the room, ignoring how Roman increasingly looked like he wanted to punch him the longer he lingered.

"Bitch, it obviously does matter, otherwise you wouldn't be looking like you got trampled by a cracked-out horse."

"Lovely imagery." Roman gritted out.

"Lovely avoidance." Remus retorted sarcastically. "Aren't you best friends with Morality and Logic now? Why aren't they here sucking your d-"

"If you don't go back to your own room I'll run you through with my sword." Roman warned with an air of finality.

Remus snorted.

It was hard to be intimidated by the same side who had once cried when he had accidentally smashed an imaginary caterpillar cocoon with his morning star. In his defense he had forgotten to make the handle weighted when he first made it, so he was still getting used to the uneven distribution of the weapon...not like that stopped Roman from getting upset with him. Supposedly he had spent the last week trying to raise butterflies and wanted to show them off to Logic after they had learned about chrysalis in class, but Remus found that somewhat laughable considering he could just create a fully-formed butterfly if he wanted to. So he did laugh, calling him dumb for getting upset over nothing, and through tears Roman pushed him to the ground and told him he hated him for the first time. (After that, he may have spent the next week killing any butterflies that crossed his path, but that was neither here nor there. The point of this tangent provided a lá Remus Sander's brain was was that Roman could be a big baby and therefore he couldn't take anything he said too seriously.)

"Sounds like a good time! Save that idea for later though, because if you don't tell me I'll summon them over here to ask them myself."

"Don't. They don't know about this, alright? For once in your life can you just let it go?"

Huh. Remus tilted his head. It had been years since they first found out about the fun little quirk Roman had, and he just...never told? He figured at the very least it would be a good way to milk even more attention from the others; something Creativity had been seeking more often after Fear turned into Anxiety during middle school and gained a much larger role in Thomas' life. "Why?"

Roman huffed in frustration. "They don't need to. I can handle it myself."

"...Wow! Careful not to summon Lies, because you're full of shit and you know it." Remus fired back. He didn't even know why he was getting so mad. Minutes ago he was cursing his brother's guts for how their relationship had soured, and now all of a sudden it was if all of that dislike had faded into the background for something else. Concern? He hadn't felt concern for anything in years. Roman always made it seem like he could take care of himself, so that's what Remus had believed at first too, though perhaps stumbling across this situation was evidence of the opposite. Reasonable self-care didn't exactly look like 'patching yourself up at 4 in the morning'. At least, that sounded like something Lies would say which probably meant it was accurate.

"Ugh- Shut up. I've been doing just fine so far, without you or them, so you can take your fake pity and shove it up your you-know-where."

Remus didn't rise to the opportunity to poke fun at that statement, his mind going blank (and what a strange and unusual feeling that was). The idea that anything could have been hidden from him seemed unthinkable given how they used to tell each other everything. He hadn't even considered that that habit had become one-sided, given how it had never stopped being true for him. "...Roman, what does that mean? Has this been happening a lot?"

"..."

"Why did you never tell me?! This isn't something you can just keep a secret! If you won't say anything I will-

Remus' mouth snapped shut as Roman ejected him from his room. He landed back on his own bed and when he scrambled onto his feet to tried to rise up again, he found that his efforts were blocked. Roman had kicked him out and locked the door behind him. He never did that, no matter how much they fought or annoyed each other. It was the one thing they did that showed they still cared.

Remus trembled with adrenaline and shock. Taking his pillow, he summoned a knife and stabbed it and stabbed it and stabbed it until all of his pent up feelings were gone and there all that was left was the fluff covering his floor.

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

III - interlude.

As it turns out, he'd never get the opportunity to tell, because shortly after that, the newly appointed 'dark sides' were pushed away into their own corner of the mindscape after an explosive argument between the sides (during which Remus tried to ignore how closely Roman stood at Morality's side, sword brandished towards him. He didn't want to think his twin had a hand in their separation, even though it made so much sense).

When he argued about going back with Lies, now Deceit after being appointed the new leader of the unwanted and unloved, he was told through clenched teeth and pained eyes that he shouldn't. Not until Thomas was ready for him. For all of them.

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

IV - to the death of me, i'm just fulfillin' my destiny.

After that, Roman adjusted, and did so alone. Teenage years came with many challenges, ones he didn’t always escape unscathed. Despite the occasional rejection here, an unfortunate setback there, he felt as if he had grown a thicker skin for the trials they faced. Into adulthood he wore his ego like a suit of armor; Thomas was outgoing and likable, so of course it became easier to brush aside random negative experiences as minor blips, things that didn’t represent their worth.

This was challenged somewhat as he began pursuing creative outlets more seriously. This meant more work for Roman in general (Woo! Suck it Logan), but it also came with more opportunities to feel ashamed of a messed-up performance, embarrassed by a note sung wrong, hurt by an ill-intentioned piece of feedback.

So he tried to compensate at times. Sue him. Between the nights he spent nursing his wounds and wondering how to do better next time, perhaps he deserved to be a little self-congratulatory about the shining achievements he won for them. There was a certain safety in placing himself up on that pedestal, so high above that it felt like nobody could ever reach him; that he was above it all. But the reality was that this pedestal, gold-plated as it may be, was founded on an interior of paper mache, one wrong move from away from collapsing and sending him tumbling back down to earth.

It was a good thing that pretending came naturally to Roman. So natural that the fear of falling sometimes didn’t register with him at all.

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

V - the calamitous corollary of being considered.

Except, it may have been too much to expect nobody to ever realize there was something up with him. The fact that the sides had to work closely together alone meant that the excuse of being busy after every troubling experience could only work for so long.

The first one to find out was Patton, because of course it was. Sometimes Roman felt as if Patton wasn’t given enough credit for his intelligence. Even though he could be a tad slow on the uptake on other things, his ability to detect the slightest change in mood and discern how people were feeling could be uncanny at times. Emotions just happened to be Patton's strong suit, and while that was very much appreciated when it came to sharing excitement or talking through a heated problem, it was not so grand when you were trying to get away with hiding something.

The first time he let something slip was a few days after Thomas had been flat-out rejected when asking someone out on a date. It wasn't that big of a blow, considering they had barely known the guy for more than a month, but Roman had been insistent that they throw caution into the wind and give it a shot, sure that he had been receiving signals that proved that this guy felt a similar interest. Turns out, he didn't, and was very-much straight. At least the rejection had been somewhat carried out gently and he didn't seem too put-off about staying friends afterwards. Nonetheless the wound was still fresh, and Thomas kept internally cringing whenever he thought about it, which didn't help matters. Whatever. Roman dealt with the bruises that arose from the incident and dabbed a little foundation on the ones he couldn't hide with clothing. They'd get over it in a matter of weeks.

It was after the awkward feelings had finally begun to settle when it happened. Roman and Patton had been in the kitchen preparing dinner when Thomas received a message on his phone, and when he went to check it, he face-planted on the couch in mortification.

'Hey man, I just remembered that my cousin is coming to town this weekend. He's gay too so I thought you two could go on a blind date if you're still looking. :) Lmk your thoughts.'

Patton frowned upon sensing the sudden wave of embarrassment, pausing to check what had happened. "Well...That's thoughtful of him!" He chuckled, tone trying and failing to be positive. Roman couldn't share the same sentiment.

"Thoughtless is more like it! He wants to set us up with the first gay person he knows? Who's not even in the city? Does he think Thomas has no standards at all?! How dare-" Roman's indignant protests cut off as he felt the skin around his collar grow tender and swell slightly. He let out a slight whimper when he pressed his fingers into the bruise to double check its location. Why now and in such a visible place?! He's going to get Thomas to drop that guy if it's the last thing he does-

"Ro! Are you okay?"

Right. Patton was still here. Don't panic.

"Y-yeah! I just remembered an injury I sustained earlier. But not to worry, 'tis but a flesh wound!" He joked.

"A flesh wound?!" Patton cried, reference flying over his head. "Let me see."

Gently, Patton moved his head upwards to get a better look at the bruise. It mustn't look good, because Patton, squeamish as he was, grimaced on sight.

"How on earth did that happen? I don't remember that being there just now."

"Uh." Come on Creative skills, work your magic. "A stray whomping willow in The Imagination? You know how they can be. I suppose it merely took a while to develop, bruises can be funny like that."

Luckily it seemed to work, because Patton sighed. "I thought you got rid of them all after that time one almost threw Logan into a lake. Did Remus make more?"

Heh. Good times. That was a slight lie on his behalf when he had told the others he had gotten rid of the trees; he had kept a few of them around because they were once a gift from Remus to quote 'spice up his boring forests'. Not for any sentimental reasons, of course, but because he thought it was funny and it kept him on his toes. "I guess."

Patton made a small 'tsk' noise, mouth still drawn in a frown but he didn't comment further. "Come on, I'll help you treat that. Does it hurt?"

"Of course not." He smiled. "Do you really think I could be bested by a mere tree?"

"Never! I do wish you were more careful when you go on your little adventures, though. It makes me awfully sad to think about you in 'pine'."

Roman knew it had been a flimsy excuse and even though Patton seemed to accept it, there was a hesitation in his eye which spoke of hidden disbelief. After some first aid and many more tree-related puns later, they went back to cooking, finishing up 30 minutes later. When Logan came down to dinner, immediately questioning the bandages around Roman's neck, he repeated the fake story, distracting him with a request not to go into The Imagination with the whomping willow around and packaging the thinly-veiled jab at the way Logan had once freaked out when he was swung around by the semi-sentient tree as a warning. Logan's concern quickly faded and he shot back a sharp retaliation that Roman didn't care to remember. He just laughed, feeling as light as a kite with the crisis averted.

The next time didn't go over as gracefully.

Thomas had found a different partner eventually, one that wasn't some friend's cousin. They dated for months, and just when he had been thinking about inviting his boyfriend to move in so he could be closer to his workplace, he'd been broken up with. On Valentines Day of all days. There was no better way of putting it; they had planned to go out to dinner, managing to book a table at a fairly classy restaurant, exchanged gifts, and near the end of the night his boyfriend had leaned across the table with a sad smile, thanking him for the evening before admitting he didn't see them working out anymore. He said it quietly, as to not cause a scene among the other diners, but that didn't stop Thomas from immediately bursting into tears. The scene had caused his (now ex) boyfriend to leave early after paying his half of the bill. At least the waitress had taken pity on him and brought over more complimentary bread rolls (which he took because he was not a complete fool, heartbroken as he may be), though even that didn't stop the confusion and embarrassment of it all.

As expected, the whole incident caused nothing but chaos; the right-brain sides were devastated, Anxiety was in a state of panic, and Logic had been metaphorically thrown out the window. As Thomas made his way home, they were at a complete loss for what to do. They had started the day, hoping to take a step forward in their relationship, and ended up with nothing at all. What worse is that they didn't even have a clear idea why (admittedly, that could have been due to, as mentioned before, the inconsolable crying).

It seemed like the most sensible thing to do at the moment was to throw the Valentines gifts away and gorge on the ice-cream that had been sitting in the back of the freezer for who-knows how long while watching a comfort show and trying to forget the whole evening. So that's what they did. As Logan tried to sort through what happened and rationalize what to do next, Patton wallowed in his misery as he dealt with the giant mix of feelings Thomas was going through.

After a few hours working through the brunt of it, enough to where his mind began wandering elsewhere, Patton realized with a start that he hadn't seen Roman since the start of the evening. He must have been so devastated too! Patton recalled how excited he was about the day ahead of them, how he spun fantasies of Thomas' boyfriend accepting the proposal to move in and then the future proposals that could come after that-

Patton mournfully sobbed. He needed to stop thinking about this, or else Thomas could start spiraling again. The best thing to do right now was distract himself, and to do that he should go check on Roman. Perhaps they could talk and have a mutual catharsis over the whole thing. Or better yet, he could put his energy towards someone else and he won't have to fall back into the thoughts that had been clouding his mind ever since they had left that stupid restaurant.

Splashing some water on his face to clear up some of the blotchy-ness, he left his room and crossed the hallway towards Roman's. He couldn't hear any noise coming from inside, so he tentatively knocked. "Kiddo?"

For a few moments there was silence, and Patton almost turned away, assuming that Roman might be blowing off some steam in The Imagination, until a voice cleared inside the room and answered. "Pat? What do you want?"

Patton was taken aback for a second, not expecting such a straight-forward answer. It almost sounded like Roman wasn't upset at all, but Patton sincerely doubted that to be true. His tone was almost too normal, and for anybody else he wouldn't have questioned it, but the lack of dramatics or flowery language was always a clear red flag for the Creative side. "I wanted to check on you since um- You-Know-Who took 'dine and dash' a tad too seriously." He chuckled humorlessly. "...Can I come in?"

There was some shuffling and muffled curses. "Why? I'm fine. Worry about yourself."

"'Why?'" He repeated, eyeing the door warily. "I'm concerned! I haven't seen you in hours and I- I know you must be upset about this too. Can we please talk?"

"I'm not exactly my most princely presentable self right now. Anyway, it's late. Surely this can wait until tomorrow?"

Patton looked down at himself. Instead of his usual garb, he had thrown on some more comfortable clothes hours ago, and they were currently crumpled from laying in bed, sobbing his eyes out. "I'm hardly my best-self either right now, Kiddo-" Before he could go on a spiel about how it was best to not bottle up emotions when they're fresh (and ignoring the hypocrisy of that sentiment), he heard a thump on the other side of the door followed by a quiet hiss of pain. Patton began to panic, and his hand flew to the handle. "I'm coming in!"

Before the other side could even consider protesting, Patton flung the fortunately unlocked door open and stepped into the room, gasping at the sight he was met with. Roman was on the floor, wincing as he clutched his leg. Although he was still dressed in his usual outfit, there were enough injuries on his visible skin that Patton could only wonder how far they went. He covered his mouth and stared in horror as Roman turned to look at him nervously.

"What- How did this happen?!"

Roman licked his dry lips, eyes darting away as he searched for an excuse. "I- The Imagination- This is from earlier-"

"You told me this morning you were going to spend the day helping Thomas write a love letter." Patton said, voice strained with panic and disbelief. "Tell me the truth, please."

Shoot, he had announced his plans earlier that day, hadn't he? He internally cursed his inability to keep his mouth shut, before lowering his head in defeat. "Can you keep a secret, Pat?"

Said side shifted uncomfortably, but his tone was resolute when he nodded. "If it means you'll let me help with whatever this is."

"Okay..." Roman inhaled. "Okay."

And then he explained. Or rather, gave a shortened version of the truth which was less likely to give Patton a complete heart-attack: that bruised egos were something he experienced, but it was never this bad (true) or all that common (also true), and that they weren't something to worry about because he could usually take care of them himself (technically true). By the time he had finished, Patton still looked concerned, but had become less frantic with the information.

"You'll let me help in the future if you need it, right?" He asked, so close to shedding tears that Roman had trouble keeping eye-contact without becoming choked up with guilt.

"If I need it." He agreed.

Finally, Patton smiled, and went to fetch the first-aid kit hastily. As he helped patch him up for the second time that year, the look in Patton's eyes was so pained that Roman vowed to let him see this side of him as little as possible.

For a while, he kept true to this promise to himself, and on the occasions when Patton would drop by to check if everything was alright, if Roman had encountered any bruised egos since, he relished in the relief on his face whenever he would lie and said he hadn't. Distantly he wondered sometimes if this was how heroes were supposed to feel; protecting people by letting them live in blissful ignorance and bearing the burden of the ugly truth alone.

(It was thoughts like that that kept him going.)

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

VI - high highs and low lows.

And then came the videos. Youtube had been an excellent ego-boost for Roman. Similar to how life-changing Vine was, the instant gratification of likes and feedback and people liking what they made was enough to send him over the moon, and oftentimes it was able to ward away the downsides that came with it too; the stress of staying relevant, the occasional hate comment, the portion of dislikes that didn't explain what about the video was dislike-worthy-

Overall it seemed like a great idea, especially when the sides became involved. It gave them all the chance to gain their own spotlights, which most of them appreciated. Sometimes this wasn't always so good though. With the videos came more introspection than usual, which meant deeply examining each problem to try to find some kind of moral. And right now, Roman didn't want to do any sort of thinking exercise about how badly he messed up. At this point in their career, a simple audition should have been a cake walk, instead it was an ache walk...Okay, admittedly he wasn't on his best game right now. The point was, he had potentially thrown the whole audition by forgetting something so simple as the lyrics, and now the casting director would definitely only remember Thomas by the way he froze under pressure, which wasn't exactly an appealing trait in somebody looking to go up on stage where the pressure was set to 100.

After everything was said and done, Roman had no choice but to approach Patton for help. In his current state, he was much too dizzy on his feet to even contemplate showing up and trying to play it off cool, which would've been an laughable endeavor anyhow considering how outwardly embarrassed Thomas was. Betrayal from his own-- well. It was a bit too harsh to blame his current predicament on Thomas, after all the fact of the matter was that it was Roman’s fault for not being better prepared.

Anyway, that's how he ended up in his current position, being swaddled in a too-warm bed, injuries patched up and having soup spoon-fed into his mouth. The whole thing felt...strange. Usually during times like this he would be grinning and bearing it, the inner satisfaction he got from fooling everyone with his performance pushing him through the day, but he supposed this was unavoidable. It was better that only one side had to see part of the problem rather than exposing it to everyone, and out of all of them, at least it was Patton. It still didn't sit well that his secret was now out in the open, a throwaway joke to be used before moving along, but hopefully that would play to his favor and they'd view it as his usual dramatics. Not like he preferred to be seen as too incompetent to care for himself, even if it fit with his persona. He supposed it just went without saying that princes are supposed to have someone at their every beck and call, they're supposed to be indulgent and spoiled and ridiculous. But princes were also supposed to be leaders, someone who was caring and brave and ready to face any challenge.

Roman sighed, a wave of self-loathing washing over him. He didn't feel very princely at all right now.

“Kiddo, are you doing okay? Does something hurt? Is the soup too hot?” Patton asked, eyebrows drawing together in concern. He was such an open book when it came to the other sides, which meant that Roman knew exactly when he had worried or panicked the fatherly figure. Honestly, it only made him feel worse. Being doted over seemed like a good idea until it meant being the subject of pity and other people’s hurt.

“No no, I’m fine Padre. It’s fine. I was just taking a trip into thought city for a second there.” He cracked a smile, trying to ignore how the bruise at the corner of his mouth pulled at the motion. If only he could think of a more original nickname, perhaps that would be more convincing. He was simply drawing blanks today it seemed. “What do you think the others are up to right now? I’d bet 5 bucks Logan is losing his mind having to deal with Anxiety alone.”

Patton didn’t look entirely convinced, but the sudden change of subject encouraged him to stop any further questioning.

In the end they talked until the others had finished filming. Whatever happened during the discussion must have helped Thomas grow past his feelings, because one-by-one the injuries on Roman's body grew smaller until they had faded entirely. Seeing this, Patton noticeably livened up again, and he cheerily declared that he would take the empty bowl back to the kitchen and check in with the others.

As soon as he was gone, Roman’s face dropped, tired from all the smiling he had been doing, and he slid down further into the sheets. Perhaps he should consider himself fortunate that the others had helped out, but all he could think about was how they now knew about his biggest weakness and how embarrassing that was. Logan and Anxiety were the last two sides he wanted finding out about this, if not for their often-tumultuous relationships, but because they'd never fully understand. Neither of them were as dependent on validation as much as he was. Despite what others thought about them, they would just keep on going, meanwhile Roman couldn't truly thrive without some kind of feedback; he was too shackled to expectations and the need to please for that sort of self-indulgence, it was practically written in his existence. It simply wasn't enough for him to be great, he needed to be great and be appreciated. Without that, he felt as if he would burn out, like a candle who's supply of oxygen had been cut off, leaving only smoke and the charred wick behind as a reminder of the fire that was once there. And sometimes that made him feel pathetic, that so much of his esteem depended on what people thought of him. Other times it just made him envy the others who had no one to please but Thomas himself and what he deemed important.

...He was tired, but he needed to keep going. The least he could do was keep up the image of egotism so that those horrid thoughts of being lesser weren't picked up by the others. If they started thinking of him the way he thought about himself (if they didn't already), he wouldn't know what he'd do. He wouldn't stand to be pitied or mocked or anything that validated what he already knew about himself. He just wouldn't.

Rolling out of bed, he practiced his smile in the mirror, fixed his clothes, and sunk out to make his grand appearance.

He couldn’t let this happen again at all costs.

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

VII - an agreeable sort of self-destruction.

More and more often, Roman was glad that he and Remus didn't share a room anymore. From the nights he hunched over scraps of ideas and worked without distraction until the sun was on the horizon, to the days he woke up with tears clinging to his lashes and breath coming out in labored pants, until he realizes the dream about him messing up so badly that he's split apart a second time was merely a cruel trick of his mind.

Currently, there was no greater time to be grateful for their separation than the moment he hastily returned back to safety after Remus' debut to Thomas. If only his brother could see the way he paced back and forth and tugged at his hair, he was sure his other half would merely gloat and poke away at his wounds instead of doing anything to help. Or worse, use it as ammunition in front of the other sides as some sort of proof of his imperfection.

Speaking of, the video was disastrous. He had been out-cold the entire time so he had no idea what was said and had no way of directing the conversation at all, which was possibly the most aggravating part of the whole situation. Beyond that, there was so much that Remus could have told the others without his knowledge. Once upon a time, the two of them were two peas in a pod, and that meant they knew an unnameable amount of secrets about each other. (Like how Remus always used to sleep with this crudely-knitted octopus Roman had made for him when he discovered crochet. Remus claimed to have set fire to it when they were teenagers, but Roman had seen it tucked away on a shelf the last time he had been in his room, before the Great Divide). The room swam a little when Roman thought about it too much. Perhaps he was being paranoid, but it wasn't as if he'd done much to earn Remus' loyalty. Why would he take the higher road and keep all of that to himself now, when he had the prime opportunity right in front of him to make himself seem like the better twin?

Hold on... He was thinking about this all wrong. Remus didn't care about good and bad the same way he did. Sure he was adamant that his version of being creative was more interesting, but he never tried to convince any of the other sides that he was inherently better or more worthy of attention than Roman, at least not to the same extent he did. The realization hit Roman like a train on it's way to a damsel tied to railway tracks (for lack of a less Remus-y simile): had he been wrong to push his brother away when he was just trying to help? All this time he had expected nothing but the worst from him, all because he was loud and unapologetic and had gone about his concern in a way that frightened him. Though just because Roman had been scared, surely that didn't warrant the dark sides being pushed aside in such a manner, and clearly the repression wasn't any benefit to Thomas...And was that partially his fault? He had been the one who encouraged Patton to divide the sides up. He had come up with the name for them: light and dark.

When he really thought about it, there wasn't much 'light' about him, not when he had been the source of so many problems.

Making Virgil feel unwelcome and continuing to trample on his boundaries.

His insults toward Logan and attempts to diminish his importance.

Leading Thomas and Patton astray in his pursuits for romance.

Being too quick to side with Janus when he should’ve known that the deceitful side only stood for selfishness and not the fair-played ambition Thomas valued.

And now: his treatment of Remus for most of their lives. Pushing him away, pretending he didn't exist, trying to erase their memories together.

How could he have the gall to claim that he saw Remus as an awful reflection of everything he didn’t want to be, when the whole point of looking into a mirror means facing you and you alone?

Even his metaphors were hypocritical.

It was a shock that nobody saw through that statement or called him out on how he had wronged just about everybody. How truly unfortunate it was that he had been declared the hero when he had done very little to live up to that title. Heroes weren't mean. They didn't make people feel bad about themselves for merely existing. They're supposed to defeat the bad guys, yes, but every time he had thought he was accomplishing that, it turned out that he was always off the mark. At least this time he had it right with Deceit, but still, that didn't erase the history he had with misjudging what was acceptable. He couldn't help but wonder what sort of reflection that must have on Thomas' content. If his creativity, which was supposed to be a force of pure good, had made a countless number of errors, what did that say about the things they were proud of? How many things had they put into the world that were imperfect? That had a misleading message? That was problematic and hurt people?

The realization had his throat tightening in panic. How could he ever have confidence in his work when he had such a flawed system of right and wrong? How-

...Wait.

Roman's spiraling thoughts were fortunately put on pause as he passed by his vanity, being pulled back to reality in an instant and finally noticing the splash of colours that had made themselves welcome on his skin once more. He gaped at his own reflection. It wasn’t as if he was unused to the sight per say, but he hadn’t realized anything had happened today that would affect Thomas’ ego. Remus’ appearance perhaps? He had the feeling that if there was any discussion to be had in light of that it would be on the goodness of his character, which could be a worthy-enough explanation. But if anything wouldn’t that what the large gash on the back of his head (fittingly) represented? So where had the others come from? Unless…

Was it him?

His own self-criticism had never left a dent on his pride before. Usually his injuries tended to be the result of outside sources; the kind of things that come out of nowhere and hit at you harder than you could ever expect. Did this mean that his own words were on par with Thomas’ harshest critics?

Roman shakily sat down. This... was a good thing, right? Perhaps he was finally gaining some self-awareness. He had been trying to make amends for where he had fallen short in the past, so this could be the sign he was making progress.

Yes. This was good. And if it wasn't, then perhaps this was just apart of his repentance. At this point he was sure everyone would agree.

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

VIII - the art of learning to let go.

The thing about tightropes is quite interesting. Like most other skills, it is something that needs to be honed. At first you try on a smaller scale and fall off more times you can count, but it's alright because that's why you practice in a safe environment. And then you progress to something more risky, and this time you have other tools to help keep you steady. Before you know it, you're up doing the actual thing; a rope suspended tens of feet in the air and thousands of eyes watching your every move, each one wondering if you really will make it across, or if they're about to watch a great tragedy take place before them. When you misjudge your own abilities and are thrust upon that rope when you're unprepared, however, all of the practice you gained can feel as if it has slipped away. As soon as you take your first step, the rope wobbles and you know somewhere deep down that your fall will be inevitable. But with so many expectant eyes baring into you, what else are you to do but continue forward? Continue until you're halfway across and your balance is so shaky that all you can do is watch as the rope swings backwards and forwards beneath your feet until you give up on trying to steady yourself entirely and-

Roman let go of the rope he had been clinging onto.

There was no grace in the way that he fell. It wasn't even a matter of choosing a side; ego or change. At first he fell so gradually that he didn't feel it at all, placing all of his thoughts and opinions into a neat little box and shoving them aside. Trying so hard to adapt, trying to be feel comfortable clinging to reasoning that contradicted his role, his meaning, his existence- and before he knew it, he was plummeting towards the ground because even then, that little piece of purpose he was forcing himself to mold his worth around did nothing but feed into the self-righteousness that must've always been there, hiding away under the surface.

Roman could only describe the feeling as air-sickness when he sunk out, his very being thrown into weightless uncertainty. Once he appeared back at his safe place, the place he wanted to be most, he felt his body connect with the ground once more as he collapsed onto the floor, body shaking with sobs and wounds he already knew were appearing.

He had been so stupid. Every step he took was littered with mistakes. Just when he thought he had learned, to try to be more accepting, to know when to give up, to listen to others instead of forging his own path, another thing came along and knocked him back to where he started and he was thrown back into the cycle of trying to atone for his actions. A cycle that never seemed to end.

His arm fractured and started to swell.

For once he thought he finally had it figured out. If he just followed the person who should've known what was best for Thomas, even if it meant going back on his own desires, surely then he would be on the right side for once. But all of a sudden that was wrong and now it was all his fault that so many bad outcomes had come about as a consequence of his lack of assertion. He may not have loaded the gun, but he had pulled the trigger, and that made him more culpable than anyone else.

His nose ached as if hit by an unseen force and began dripping blood.

Even his attempts at keeping his ego in check were all for nothing because the moment he felt threatened he lashed out towards Janus, the side who now all of a sudden deserved a seat at the table because he had gained Patton's favor (nevermind that he had agreed with him first. Oh no, that was just Roman being naive and easy to sway if only you stroke his ego a little. What importance could his opinions possibly have?). But that was the thing, wasn’t it? In the end he just couldn’t win, no matter what he did. When he tried to silence his voice it was too obvious and attention-seeking, and when he chose to project his thoughts it was too loud and abrasive. When he spoke out he was punching down, but when others did the same they were punching up up up. It left him wondering how much more he had to fall before it was no longer deemed okay to kick him while he was down. Was it his fault for choosing to sit atop his golden pedestal, making himself seem forever untouchable and unable to be hurt? And would things be different if he was sensitive like Patton? Complicated like Virgil? Respectable like Logan? Had he been making a mistake all along by pretending to be stronger than he was? But how was he ever supposed to let go of the walls he had built, knowing that the second they crumbled, all the things he had been trying to protect himself from would pass through and destroy everything he had worked so hard for? Maybe it was time to accept that this was all he could be; that there was no way for him to change, no way to soften his edges or stick firm to his beliefs that wouldn’t end with him in a losing position.

His ribs ached, bending unnaturally until he felt a snap in his chest.

Perhaps Janus was right by calling him evil. He had proven it time and time again that he was no good for Thomas. In fact, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to say that he was worse than Remus. At least he couldn't help the way he was, didn't have control over the problems he caused unlike Roman. He was supposed to be the half with all the bad parts removed. The 2.0 version, new and improved. He had no excuse for being as flawed as he was, not really. All this time spent thinking he was the good twin, and it was nothing more than an act of self-delusion. The grandeur of a side with nothing to show for it beyond his words.

His eyelid puffed up and mottled with colour.

...He was bad. Unneeded. Evil.

The capillaries across his knuckles burst and stained them a violent red.

Everything would be so much better if he just-

"Broman?" Oh shit.

Romans eyes flew open. And he realized belatedly that he wasn't looking at his floor; his floor had intricate Persian rugs and a soft fluffy carpet. This one had various stains and burns and felt scratchy against his fingers.

"What the fuck. Princey? You good?"

1) He wasn't in his room. 2) Wherever he was, Remus and Virgil were here too.

"M-my mistake! I must have accidentally sunk out to the wrong place. If you'll excuse me-" He tried, but his voice was hoarse and clearly not okay. Of all times for his acting skills to have failed him.

"Oh no you don't."

Before he could sink out through the floor, two arms latched under his armpits and hoisted him upright. He choked back a gasp at the sudden movement, senses flashing white as his injuries were jostled. He barely heard the shocked exclamation in front of him before the two voices discussed something hastily and he was deposited onto a soft surface. The ringing in his ears faded, just in time to hear Virgil speak.

"What happened? " He asked, voice layered with anxiety and sounding on the verge of a panic attack. Roman would have tried to reassure him if he didn't feel like his entire body was on fire.

"It just happens sometimes, when Thomas’ ego gets bruised." Remus answered bitterly when it became clear his brother wasn't in a position to explain. He then muttered under his breath: "Though this time is different, huh?"

"What? I thought- I didn’t know it got this bad.” Virgil whispers, horrified.

"Sorry you have to see this, Finding Emo." Roman croaked once he began slowly coming back to his senses. He would regret not being more composed later, but right now he couldn't really bring himself to care about anything. “I’ll be as good as Gucci soon.”

"No. Shut the fuck up, you don't get to say that." Remus said angrily. Why did he sound so mad? Roman tried to crack open his eyes to check, but the world was still spinning too much for him to really recognize what was he was seeing. On top of that it seemed one of his eyes was swollen shut. Joy. That'll make it more difficult to patch himself up later.

"'Told you before, I can handle myself." He finally managed.

"Yeah? Was that you 'handling yourself' when you dropped in and started bleeding all over my floor? Or when you stopped talking to me and kicked us 'dark sides' to the curb because your sense of superiority was more important? Or when you started acting like a royal prick to everyone just so they wouldn't know you spend your nights licking your wounds?"

"Stop." Roman pleaded, shamefully curling into himself as much as his body allowed in its current state. Remus paused in his tirade before continuing, more quietly.

"If you're uncomfortable just from that, you should try watching your brother slowly self-destruct for years and not being able to do anything about it. That's fucking uncomfortable." Roman heard a sniffle, and his body went cold. He hadn't heard Remus get upset since they were kids. Sometimes he forgot that there was more to his brother than his disgusting unpredictable persona, and the thought that he could've been hurting Remus all this time was something that had never even crossed his mind.

"I'm..." Sorry? Was he sorry? Apologizing was practically second nature at this point, but he couldn't even tell if the words would be genuine if he said them. Was he sorry for his actions or for hurting Remus, or was it the fact that he had been caught at all? If he had it his way, none of this would be happening, so perhaps he wasn't as apologetic as he thought. He really was the worst, wasn't he?

Remus seemed to pick up on what he was thinking about saying, because he laughed; not in his usual cartoon-ish way, but resigned and hurt. The sound pulled at Roman's heart. "Save it. Here's what's going to happen you Walmart Prince Eric knockoff. You’re going to accept our help whether you like it or not, and if you try to pull any self-sacrificing BS at any point, I’m going to eat your entire makeup collection.”

“...You wouldn’t. You don’t like the way glitter sticks to your teeth.” Roman argued weakly, just for the sake of being contrary.

“Try me.”

Roman sighed. He really didn’t doubt that Remus would be petty enough to go through with his threats, especially since he knew it how much it would bother Roman to summon a new set. In any case, he wasn’t in a position to do much of anything at the moment, and now that it was too late to pretend like this never happened, he figured he might as well roll with it. Future him could deal with the consequences later.

“Okay.” He said after a moments pause, looking to the Virgil-shaped figure, as much as the crick in his neck would allow. “...Just don’t tell Patton about this. Not yet.”

The figure shuffled, out of what was probably awkwardness after having watching the twins argue. “No worries dude. We’re not exactly on- uh. Y’know what, nevermind, I’ll just go get the medical kit.”

During the moments that Virgil had shuffled off, there was an empty silence. Roman spent it trying to blink his uninjured eye back into focus, until he was finally able to spot Remus standing across from him, an uncharacteristically glum look on his face. "You look like you're going to a funeral."

"Don't even joke about that. I don't need more thoughts about-"

"Death? I thought that was pretty par for the course."

Remus smiled wryly at him, sarcastic and mocking. "You dying, dummy. D'you think I never imagined it? Something happening and you disappearing because you never let anyone help you- and me not even knowing it happened? Finding out much too late? Being alone?"

Roman didn't know what to say to that. "Sorry." He blurted out, and this time he felt like he meant it. "If it means anything in retrospect, I wouldn't have ever let it go that far. I think."

"'You think.'" Remus repeated. "God, you need some self-care. It's a shame you and Jan-jan weren't friends before. It's supposed to be his job to make sure this kind of thing doesn't happen, you know."

Roman felt himself flinch at the mention of Janus' name before he could control it. If Remus noticed, he didn't get the chance to comment on it, because at that moment Virgil came bustling back with a first aid kit.

"I didn't know what else you needed, so I got some water, balms, bandages, frozen peas, and creams. Just in case." He spoke, noticeably out of breath.

"Water?" Roman asked as a glass was held towards him. He pushed himself upright with some effort and accepted it.

"For painkillers." Virgil replied, handing him some pills once he had set the other items down. "Also your throat sounded kinda rough, and when you cry a lot you can get dehydrated, so..."

Surreptitiously, Roman wiped at his face and tried to not feel too embarrassed that the two of them had heard him wail like a toddler who'd had their favourite toy taken away. Before he knew it, he had taken the pills and downed half of the glass while the other two sides unpacked the medical supplies. Virgil really had thought of everything he might have needed.

Roman blinked as he watched them, stunned that he would go to so much effort. "This is very thoughtful of you, Medic Parade."

Virgil paused as he pieced together the nickname, and then scowled. "Mayday doesn't even sound anything like medic- and it's not. I just didn't want to- y'know- get the wrong things and make it worse."

Remus elbowed Virgil in the side, perhaps in an attempt to cheer him up. "Hey, you can't do any worse than what we did the first time Ro got a booboo."

"...And what was that?" Virgil's hesitant tone indicated he wasn't sure if he want to know.

"Nothing!" Remus grinned.

"I'm pretty sure that was just a concussion." Roman stated before Virgil got the wrong idea and thought they were totally stupid, looking upward as he tried to recall the incident Remus was talking about. It felt like forever ago now. "Not like anything could be done, to be fair."

"'Just'-" Virgil made a strange choked sound. "Is this what my life's gonna be now? Having a worry-induced heart attack every 5 minutes?"

"Welcome to the club!" Remus cheered, offering a fist bump which Virgil ignored in favour of burying his head in his hands.

"Goddammit. Alright- let's get this show on the road I guess. Roman, take your shirt off." When Remus' eyebrows started waggling, clearly about to make an inappropriate comment, Virgil waved his hands wildly to stop him. "So we can look at the damage! Shut your mouth Remus!"

"I didn't say anything." He intoned, looking overly smug before turning to Roman expectantly.

Said man frowned, placing the glass of water on the bedside table next to him. Before he made any move, he glanced at Virgil who was looking red either out of Remus-induced embarrassment or frustration. Mood. "You don't have to stick around for this part if you don't want to. It can be a bit much, so I wouldn't blame you."

"I'm not a baby, Roman." Virgil retorted, crossing his arms. "Making sure you don't die or something is way more important than my comfort. I can't promise you'll be safe from me calling you an idiot until you're better, though."

Roman looked away again. Was that condescending of him to ask? He opened his mouth to apologize, before closing it in resignation. No need to make this into an issue; he'll ask Virgil whether he felt belittled later. "...Okay. That's fair."

Instead of going through the pain of trying to remove a shirt with a possibly broken rib, he snapped and it disappeared. He heard a sharp inhale, but in response to what, he didn't know. Roman looked downwards to check. Among the remnants of previous attempts at self-healing (some messier than others), the area around his right rib was inflamed and a large portion of his stomach was splotched with purple. Noticeably, his left arm was also burning red, but luckily it seemed like the fracture there was non-displaced, which hopefully meant it would heal quicker. Other than that, there weren't any major injuries besides his black eye and bloody nose that needed attention. Could be worse, considering how god-awful he felt!

Remus whistled. "You look like someone took a dalmatian and made it the colours of the bi-flag."

"Yeah. That's- weirdly accurate." Virgil winced. "What hurts most?"

"Uh- My arm and my ribs I suppose. They're a little... on the broken side."

"That's what I thought." Virgil muttered under his breath, grabbing the items to make a split. "I'll deal with those first, Remus you help with his nose and the bruising. And if you want to make yourself useful, hold these peas to your eye, dumbass."

"Your bedside manners are impeccable." Roman said sarcastically, taking the bag of peas and exhaling as he adjusted to the cold feeling pressed against his face. "...Here I thought there would be a grace period before you started calling me names."

"Just calling it like I see it." Virgil hummed. With deft fingers, he held the splint under Roman's forearm and began winding the bandages around it. "You should probably make an actual brace later when you're up to it, but hopefully this should keep it in place and remind you to not use it for now."

"But that sides my dominant arm-" Roman whined, about to complain about how he was supposed to get work done until Remus pinched the bridge of his nose none too gently, and he yelped. "Ow! Remus."

"Think of that as payback for the last 15 years." Remus replied lightly. "Tilt your head back."

Begrudgingly, Roman complied, resting his head against the headboard. He stared at the ceiling as his brother and best friend silently worked their way around his injuries, applying topical ointment to his bruises and applying band-aids to small cuts. He didn't even realize they had finished until Remus bonked him on the head.

"All done! Shame it's not Halloween. You could go as a mummy again."

"Ha ha. What a comedian you are." Roman replied in a deadpan, but fought to keep a smile away anyway. The irony of how much he resembled that costume right now definitely wasn't lost on him.

"...I'm sorry for ruining that, by the way." Virgil spoke up suddenly from where he had been packing everything away, breaking the thoughtful silence he'd been in for the past few minutes. "Your costume during the Christmas video, I mean. And saying all of that harsh stuff to make a point."

Roman only stared, taken aback. "All of that happened half a year ago. I'm not upset about that."

"I know, I know. It's just... I've been thinking about it recently, all the times I haven't acted very...good." He bit his lip, averting his eyes. "Especially now, knowing that kind of thing literally hurts you."

"Virgil." Roman sighed softly, taking his hand. Virgil startled but didn't pull away. "You don't need to be 'good' all the time. Wasn't that the point you were trying to get across back then? All of us have made mistakes in our pasts, some more than others, but if you can forgive us for that, then you deserve the same acceptance for your less-than-stellar moments."

"Oh." He said, eyes glassy. His hand tightened around Roman's. "I'm still sorry, if I've ever made things worse for you or if I haven't been supportive enough."

"I- You have-" Roman spluttered worriedly, sitting up.

"It's alright, I already know that we kinda work against each other at times. Part of the job." Roman's mouth closed with a grimace. "Still, it's unfair on you. You shouldn't be expected to perfect, especially not with an asshole like me there to tear into your work. So just...know that it's okay to tell us when you're struggling, okay?"

"Right..." Roman bit his cheek. Virgil seemed well-meaning, but showing that sort of weakness was a concept he still found difficult to accept, even if he had given in this time and allowed himself to be completely seen. Virgil noticed his lackluster agreement and patted him with his free hand.

"Hey. In almost any case we'd embrace you."

"...No one hates you." Roman finished a beat later with a small smile. Virgil's face lit up and moved closer to his side. Upon seeing this, Remus unceremoniously squished himself between the two of them, careful not to bump against Roman too much (although Virgil definitely got the brunt of Remus crawling over him, to his dismay).

"Look at you two, my favourite dorks, bonding over feeling insecure!" He declared, throwing an arm around both of them. "Couldn't be me, but I still love you."

Roman poked Remus' side. "So that wasn't you admitting to being worried earlier?"

"Nope! New phone who dis?"

"You're insufferable." Virgil rolled his eyes fondly. "...I love you guys."

And Roman sighed contently, feeling safe and cared for. Things weren't perfect right now; he still needed time to heal and Remus and Virgil would undoubtedly want him to open up about what happened sooner or later, but for now he was was able to hear that he was loved and believe it to be true, and that was enough.

"I love you both too. Thank you."

#sanders sides #roman sanders #roman angst #creativitwins #platonic prinxiety #platonic royality #my writing #that's a tag now ig #....i've stared at this for so long idk if it's good anymore #bruised but not broken

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muninnhuginn · 3 years

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DC (you can choose which one)

Sorry for the delay on this! I started it then saved it in my drafts and proceeded to forget that drafts were a thing OTL.

Anyway, I'm going to go for the Detective Conan DC because my knowledge of the other DC is... lacking.

The first character I first fell in love with: Haibara. Her character arc is still my favourite even now. She was very much traumatised in a number of ways and that wasn’t much shied away from. Like, she’s actively terrified of Gin and Vermouth and when we first met her she’d just lost her sister. But despite that, she still managed to open up over time. And it wasn’t a linear path because she still freaks whenever someone from the BO is present (and I know the entire BO sense is kinda weird in terms of how much of it is like a magic realism thing vs her panic response but there’s some of both of it in there). But she is happier after her development and her friendship with Ayumi is precious honestly. The case about being able to call her by her first name was legit sweet.

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: Akai, I think. He was pretty clever without getting nerfed for it and saw through the Conan shtick, same as with Yamato and Koumei (who are both also charas I like). But then, I was just incredibly amused by his Okiya act. I have no idea how much of it was intentional trolling but turning up with curry to incredibly non-subtly check up on Haibara cracked me up. And obviously alongside that you have how he was freaking Haibara out and it just led to a lot of scenes with tension between them where Akai wasn’t communicating his reasons (because he got her sister killed. yikes.) and Haibara had enough pieces to have an idea but not enough to complete the puzzle as to Akai being a “good guy”, so to say. It was fun, I think. Even if the setup of characters not communicating definitely started to become frustrating after a while. But anyway, Akai has the range. He has the clever dangerous side and the “wdym, I’m just here for curry” memeability.

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: This isn’t an “everyone” thing exactly but I’m not sure there is any one character who is universally liked by the entire fandom. Anyway, I find Conan frustrating nowadays. I think he was decent up past Desperate Revival (maybe even Vermouth reveal?) but after that stagnated big time. The main issue is that DC is a long runner and so at some point character development has to be put on hold. It’s more obvious with Conan because we literally see him every case as opposed to the other characters who have fewer appearances. But I think to narrow it down further, the problem is how Conan is not allowed to make mistakes that are punished by the narrative (aside from perhaps when it’s time to show off Yuusaku). Say for instance, he can actively refuse an information exchange with Akai because he doesn’t want to confirm his identity despite the fact that Akai already knows who he is. And this is treated as though it’s fine and logical even though it really isn’t? I don’t mind character flaws. If anything, I want characters to have flaws. But when the manga continues to twist the narrative around to try and pretend like character flaws aren’t flaws, it really puts me off that character.

The character I love that everyone else hates: This is more a case of the potential than that I actually think she's super well done, but early era Sera was actually pretty good? I find the later choices (especially once Mary is introduced) to be too inconsistent with her previous characterisation and strongly dislike how her intelligence gets retrospectively nerfed by the revelation that Mary was helping her out all along. But Sera in her first few cases and especially in the case with bomb at the detective agency? She was being the most realistic person there and it was really refreshing. (I feel like talking more about this could go off topic but basically I get that Ran is supposed to be the kinda pure more idealistic style morality because that’s what Aoyama is gunning for with her chara and that’s what Vermouth likes about her and Shinichi, but what Ran did with blocking the snipers’ views there was actively dangerous. It would have been safer for everyone else if they’d just gone with Sera’s plan and let the sniper take out the bomber)

The character I used to love but don’t any longer: Gin was a pretty intimidating and challenging antagonist all the way up until maybe around Clash? I just feel though that he’s become less and less of a serious antagonist the more spies get revealed within the BO? Peak Gin was Dark Footprints though imo and since then, well. Nowadays, I really struggle to see the hype around him.

The character I would totally smooch: Uh... none, sorry.

The character I’d want to be like: I was so stuck on this question but I’ve settled on an answer now. I’d go for Haibara because even though her science knowledge keeps getting nerfed (ngl, so salty she didn’t know basic physics in the Maria case) she does have that biochem background. And even though she’s quiet and not actively trying to fit in she still manages to gain friends willing to put in the effort for her. It’s sweet and I’d like that.

The character I’d slap: Shuukichi. This guy. He decides without consulting her that he will ghost his girlfriend so he can win a shogi title “for her” which will somehow prove that he’s worthy of marrying her (????). He hasn’t even told her he plays shogi professionally before he does this. What. Maybe I’m just someone who would appreciate communication in relationships of any flavour but I don’t think I’d ever want to marry someone who breaks up with me out of the blue to ghost me for years only to reappear and say he wants to marry me because he’s won some competition I don’t even care about. And Yumi doesn’t care about shogi or she would have known years ago he plays professionally, especially considering it’s aired on TV.

A pairing that I love: TakaSatou. In a series where most of the relationships start with some kind of childhood connection, TakaSatou is definitely refreshing for entirely bypassing that and gunning for a more mature relationship overall. That said, there are a couple of their stories that rely way too much on second hand embarrassment for me to rewatch.

A pairing that I despise: Okay, I'll just go for the worst offender here with Shuukichi/Yumi. See my answer on why I would slap Shuukichi for reference and also the fact that I’m about 95% sure Aoyama is going to make it canon despite this. I wouldn’t mind half as much if the manga actually critically examined why Shuukichi pulled his ghosting stunt, but it’s just brushed over as a big romantic gesture. So yeah. I’m out.

#ask meme #dcmk #I'm putting it here for self reference pls don't take this as like tagging hate in the main tag or sth thanks #long post

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nevertheless-moving · 4 years

Text

inspired by this post by @crcgeneralwandsmith

(Jango as Valjean from Les mis)

*Takes a VERY deep breath*

Jango is freed from slavery by the Jedi Council instead of Pirates- only to be immediately remanded into their custody. Tries to escape [obviously], so gets put into higher security, which increases his rage at the Jedi, unfairness (look down, look down).

Eventually his case gets processed and he gets released because he didn’t actually commit crimes except self-defense: Mace Windu singing (do not forget my name) because he doesn’t trust the Jedi Killer from Galdrean.

Jango immediately falls into Dooku’s plan, agrees to clone army, boba- a few years pass

but THEN has a road to Damascus epiphany when he tries to steal from, um...Breha Organa’s dad- and the Organa’s don’t turn him into the Jedi even though they catch him right away, and back up the whole space candlestick gift lie. (you forgot I gave these also, would you leave the best behind?)

So Jango has an epiphany that...he should stick to murder, not stealing. No- wait, sorry Mr. Organa that he should be nice? to kids? Because Mr.Organa is doing this so that his daughter, who might be Queen one day, will understand the value of human life...

or you can substitute this with Qui-Gon Jinn I HAVE TO KEEP GOING SORRY THERES NO TIME

Thinking that all through, he returns to Kamino like yikes this is kindof fucked up isn’t it. (Have I fallen so far and is the hour so late)

Takes over Kamino and starts a- mercenary school? And he’s kindof the king but he’s pretending to be one of the alpha generation clones so he can get away with all the many, many, earlier human rights violations. The clones are happyish, space ports open, so some people live there- the whole planet is singing (at the end of the day) because Jango’s better then the long necks at least?

Mace Windu is assigned to the planet of Jango Fett clones- very suspicious for so many extremely obvious reasons but like, he can’t just write to the council and say this guy looks like Jango Fett because ITS A WHOLE PLANET OF JANGO FETTS THE

you know what- you what? I’m going to say that during the takeover some of the long necks fled to Genosis and stole Boba because technically Jango reneged on their contract- Dooku then had to flee Genosis because the blame for creating the army fell hard on him. Much to his despair, Dooku falls in with Hondo.

eventually, EVENTUALLY

99- who escaped during the confusion with the bad batch- gets put on trial for being Jango Fett- and like, everyone believes it because he’s just raising a bunch of sons on an isolated planet instead of being a king and everyone who knows Jango is like that does sound most like Jango Fett. And- and 99 goes along with it, because by putting him on trial in the republic, they’re actually stealth granting rights to the clones, so he really commits to the role. Is sentenced to prison forever

Jango (can I condemn this man to slavery, pretend I do not feel his agony) is kindof angsty about it, because he just got a lead on Dooku and Hondo’s whereabouts, and also Windu is really grating, and Cody is like yeah I can definitely be a better king than you fuck off...oh and also 99 or whatever his name is.

DRAMATIC CONFESSION (And so Windo you see its true, this man bears no more guild than you)

Intense Confrontation song (Every man is born in sin/ There is power in me yet;

Every man must choose his way/My race is not yet run) Epic Battle we deserve, but instead of Windu decapitating Jango he jumps into the Ocean, flies off in secret to rescue Boba.

NOW we get (Master of the House) with Hondo as Thenardier and Dooku as Mrs. Thendadier

no i will not accept criticism i have ASCENDED

Hondo: (Master of the House, Keeper of the Zoo, Ready to Relieve them of a Sou or Two)

Dooku: (I used to dream that I would meet a prince, but force almighty look what’s happened since)

then Jango comes in for Boba/Cosette and- and probably just murders everyone to be honest in would be pretty ooc for him to anything else

but i GUESS he could trick them book canon style instead...

#star wars #star wars au #les mis #nevertheless writing

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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Godddddd I'm so upset that I dislike yen this much, doing main quests in skellige and Freyas ppl were doing stuff and she again disrespected other cultures with Geraly being against, "I may be inhumanly beautiful" I know she's meant to be confident but wowww. She's not confident and worried for Ciri she just comes off arrogant and selfish and vain. Like, fuck.

The ultimate mood, anon. My Witcher fandom life would be so much easier if I enjoyed Yen ... but I just do not lol. Remember how I mentioned that things were going to get even worse than her stealing and using a potentially dangerous artifact? Yeeeaah. She also resurrects Ciri's friend to torture him for information, all while destroying another sacred garden to get the power to do it! It's not even a "She's so evil and I love it 😏" situation for me because the game tries so hard to convince us that she's still The Best. Geralt's sexy soulmate, Ciri's adoring mother, the baddest bitch around who gets things done and does it with an effortless confidence... all while ignoring how horrific her actions and attitude are. Oh sure, other characters speak ill of her at times, but considering how much Geralt is written to adore her, no matter what you choose, that's all undermined. I love morally gray/evil characters, but I've never enjoyed them when the text refuses to appropriately acknowledge that side of them. Nothing is more frustrating to me than a story that frames disliking a character as the unambiguously wrong thing to do, especially when the text is piling up reasons to dislike them and, as a result, ignoring or shrugging them off their actions as not that bad. Yen is a rather extreme example of that for me. Despite her attitude, her choices, and other characters outright going, "Why do you like her?" the story as a whole works under the assumption that it's correct to like her anyway because Geralt loves her. And he loves her for... reasons.

They do meet before the wish, but only just. Major "The Last Wish" spoilers in this paragraph, so feel free to skip. Basically, Geralt and Dandelion run into trouble with a djinn, he goes to Yen for help since she's a sorceress (first time meeting her), he instantly falls for her because she's gorgeous and such (there's an elf there who is also madly in love with Yen. Men just... fall for her, instinctually), she heals Dandelion, Geralt agrees to pay her, but Yen has already decided on the payment she wants. She takes control of Geralt's mind and forces him to attack the town to seek revenge on those who have insulted her, resulting in him waking up in prison awaiting execution for "his" crimes. Meanwhile, Yen has gone after the djinn for herself because power/trying to regain her ability to have a kid. Geralt escapes, finds her failing to master the djinn (an attempt which btw has endangered the whole town) and despite what she's done to him, Geralt tries to get Yen to escape with him. She refuses, set on capturing the djinn even though it's obvious she can't. So as a last resort he uses the final wish to bind their fates together, saving Yen from the djinn in the process. Aaaaaand then they have sex.

So yeah, their rocky relationship is one of the main reasons why I can't enjoy Yen. For some their tumultuous history is evidence of realism, for me it's evidence that they're not actually very compatible and they're only together because a) that's the fantasy trope: protagonist men get together with the hot sorceress and b) because the magic is literally ensuring that they can't escape one another. I mean, canonically their fates are tied together by magic and canonically they spend about 20 years swinging between passionate love and fearsome fights... but there's supposedly no connection between these two things? No chance at all that they keep coming together because magic is drawing them rather than because they actually want/should be together? I wrote a meta a while back about the short story where they meet, which includes a present day scene where Geralt is criticized by another character — Nenneke — for running out on Yen. Thing is, he tries to explain that he left because she was "too possessive" and this is... flat out ignored. By both Nenneke and the fandom. There's a strong trend of ignoring Geralt's words in favor of a pro-Yen interpretation of events. He says he left because she was too possessive and she treated him like ____ — he's not allowed to finish the sentence and say what she treated him like because Nenneke interrupts him, saying she doesn't care about his version of events. Major yikes imo! She turns a claim of being possessive into Geralt not being man enough to stick around. The fandom likewise turns this into a case of Geralt getting cold feet and running out because he's a bastard who hates commitment. Likewise, Nenneke and the fandom claim Geralt is trying to get Yen money as a way of appeasing his guilt for leaving, he claims he's doing it simply because he still cares for her — even if he doesn't want to be with her — and knows she needs it. Geralt's words are frequently dismissed, in the same way others characters' opinions of Yen are dismissed. Any mark against her is treated as either a lie, or a convoluted claim that they don't really know her... never mind that an understanding of why she may act this way doesn't excuse the behavior itself. (Plus, the whole "Yen had a horrible upbringing, so of course she struggles being kind" perspective always fell flat to me when so many, including witchers, had horrendous upbringings too. The whole point is this world is a mess and most everyone suffers). It's supposedly true love, yet if someone came up to me and went, "I magically tied my fate to this woman to keep her from getting herself killed and we've spent the last couple decades having what many would term a rocky relationship, to put it kindly. I left once because she was too controlling. She once cheated on me. I likewise hooked up with others during our frequent breakups. A mutual friend used magic to get me to have sex with her — also while my lover and I were broken up — and though I view it as a dumb decision I'm happy to forgive her for, my lover is ready to commit murder because again: possessive. A lot of the time we're only a family because of our daughter. I once thought she'd horrifically betrayed us both. She didn't, but it says something that I was so ready to believe it, huh? Hmm? Permanently separated? Of course not! I love her. We're destined to be together after all :)" I'd be like, "Uh... you sure about that, dude?"

Not that Geralt doesn't make his fair share of mistakes in the relationship — he absolutely does — but I don't think it helps his case that he's immature in other ways and, frankly, that he's a very strong, badass witcher. It's easy to turn the hints we get about their relationship into a simplistic "emotionally naive man can't give the poor woman the commitment she wants" situation. Given Geralt's status as the badass fighter of the tale, it's likewise easy to dismiss his admissions of her being "possessive" and his general discomfort. He's the man. He's the witcher. If he's making any claims about how Yen isn't treating him well, they must be excuses, or exaggerations, because real men, especially physically powerful men, would do something about that — a something that's not sneaking out in the middle of the night. A lot of people read Geralt leaving as the ultimate proof that he's an immature bastard who doesn't deserve her. I read him leaving and think, "What were you trying to get away from? What was going on that made you think you could only leave by sneaking out without a word?" To me, that doesn't read as someone who felt safe, comfortable, and respected enough to do anything but slip away and try to wash his hands of things. And I'm not just pulling this "Geralt is at least somewhat afraid of Yen and isn't comfortable establishing boundaries with her" reading out of my ass. When Yen wants Geralt to kill the golden dragon for her and he refuses, saying he doesn't care anymore, his thoughts are:

He expected the worst: a cascade of flames, flashes of lightning, blows raining down on his face, insults and curses. There was nothing. He saw, with astonishment, only the subtle trembling of her lips. Yennefer turned around slowly. Geralt regretted his words.

And everyone is like, "See! Yen has improved so much. Geralt nearly made her cry, but she's supposed to be the bad guy here?" Meanwhile, I'm going, "Uh... anyone want to unpack why he expects fire, lightning, insults, curses, and blows to his face for telling her no? Why he's astonished that she wouldn't use her magic against him? Anyone think that Yen refraining from attacking Geralt when he refuses to murder on her command is a pretty low bar? No? Just me?"

Geralt and Yen's relationship makes me uncomfortable and a great deal of that discomfort derives from how much of the Witcher fandom shrugs off the fictional warning signs. I mean, I post primarily about RWBY. We watched a man in that show try to sneak away with his kids when his villainous wife planned to use them for a eugenics plan... and the fandom still blames him for that, refusing to admit that he was in an abusive relationship. Because that doesn't happen to men, right? I'm not saying it's the same for Geralt and Yen, simply because they are written to be soulmates. An abusive relationship was, quite obviously, never the authorial intent. However, I am saying that the a "This isn't a healthy relationship" reading is there, it exists as an interpretation, and both the story and fandom's tendency to dismiss it is something that hasn't helped me enjoy Yen's status as an otherwise well written, complex character. Their equality supposedly stems in part because they're both so flawed, yet each time I see a list of Geralt's supposedly equal faults they're... lacking imo. "Geralt bound himself to Yen without her consent." Yeah, to save her from dying from the djinn she was trying to enslave, after she refused to leave, while her actions threatened a whole town. "Geralt ran off without a word." Mmm hmm, anyone care about why? And my personal favorite is a scene you may not have gotten to yet (or may not get depending on your choices), but suffice to say, Yen is supposedly justified in physically attacking Geralt if he dares to challenge her in any way. That's the main takeaway across the fandom: If Yen is pissed off, you must have done something to deserve it which, in the relationship deliberately written to be "stormy," is something that sets all the alarm bells in my head off. Honestly, it kinda makes my skin crawl to go, "Geralt didn't deserve that" and get responses back of, "Yeah he did because he [insert basic human action here]." The Witcher world is hard and cruel, absolutely, but that doesn't mean I personally enjoy seeing an equally messed up relationship presented as something that's enviable in its flaws. "That's actually true love because the magically bound man who often expresses discomfort with his lover, written by a male author with a very iffy perspective on women, says it's true love." Crazy theory here, but... maybe it's not?

Idk, lots of rambling on my end tonight! For me, Geralt/Yen reads as something rather tragic which, in a canon that unironically upholds the relationship, and in a Yen-adoring fandom, doesn't make enjoying her character any easier. I keep coming back to Witcher 3, the comics, the show, even the books going, "Maybe I'll like her this time?" but nope, still trying lol.

#witcher #mymetas

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darkpoisonouslove · 4 years

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Riven x Musa

Ok, so I keep seeing posts everywhere that basically badmouth S8 and after seeing ten seconds of the trailer (YIKES to the animation, what’s wrong with the industry that they are making everything anime? Powerpuff Gen Z, I’m looking at you – obs: I didn’t watch it fully yet) I can see where some of the criticism is coming from but anyways…

My favorite Winx!couple EVER has always been Musa x Riven since I was kid and first watched the show (Netflix is not helping ‘cause I ship them even there).

I remember yawning at Bloom/Sky, rolling my eyes at Stella/Brandom and making a completely incredulous expression that I could literally feel forming on my face at Helia/Flora (can anyone say ‘unrealistic’?). Timmy/Tecna are a second favorite.

And why my Winx OTP are Riven x Musa followed after Timmy x Tecna? Because it reflects real life. In real life you’re not gonna stumble into people whose real and deep relationship problems are solved in twenty four minutes (not even that considering that some episodes present the “problem” half-way through said 24 minute-episode).

The breakup between Riven and Musa in S6 (spoilers everywhere after all) was one of the most mature breakups in the history of breakups with the hope for the future (yes, I’m completely ignoring S7, sue me, the whole thing was one huge filler anyways). And, after reading a lot of opinions on both ends (defending Musa/attacking Riven and defending Riven/attacking Musa) and watching the episodes in question (reuniting through reconciling) I think I can give my own analysis.

Since Musa AND Riven (individually and as couple) are my favorite characters in Winx, I think I CAN give a fairly unbiased view (hopefully).

*clears throat*

Ok, keep in mind that I’m defending BOTH of them, because I ship them too hard not to.

Musa Being OC (sometimes being called ‘brat’): C'mon, people! Musa and Tecna are OC since S4 anyways, where are the tomboy and the nerd? With the sneakers, T-shirt and comfortable-looking clothes? Noooo, now they all need neat skirts and hot pink high heels and long, glamorous hair. Do they look good? Of course, but and I would totally be less pissed if there was ANY indication on the reason for the change. Are they just maturing? Expressing themselves differently? Crowd mentality? Tune and Stella finally broke Musa down and Tecna followed soon after? Was it just to please Riven and Timmy? ANYTHING (even the 'pleasing a boy’ would at least be A reason - a ridiculous one that would piss me off, but A reason none the less), was just a sudden impulse that took?

Sure, we can talk about “character growth” until we are blue in the face, but the matter of the fact is that there was none.

The changes we see in Musa and Tecna are basically the creators making them more like the rest of the Winx (I’m including Aisha in this too, where is the sporty girl that matched the boy’s interest in extreme sports? C'mon! Even Bloom and her Girl Next Door looks are replaced with Bratz and Clueless-level of outfits).

Is anyone really going to look me in the eye and say Stella wasn’t a shallow (if friendly and good-natured) Mean Girl? She got better, but as I re-watch the show (currently in S3, meaning almost half-way through the content), Stella still worries more about her hair than anything else even while under literal fire.

More and more, Musa, Tecna and Aisha are losing their identities and what made them, IMO, the more badass Winx.

How did the two on the left went from this…

… to this:

Yeah, yeah, Musa still sings, Tecna still technobabble and Aisha is still a Warrior Princess but Aisha was the first one to go Bloom and Stella on us with Musa and then Tecna following soon after. It’s not just their clothing style, it’s the way they carried themselves too.

Right now? The only thing keeping them apart is their BF blues (different kind of blues) and some personal interests (singing, shopping, tech, the whole drama with Domino/Sparks, etc). But that’s IT, their personalities are going down the drain!

Sorry for the long-winded text, but the reason I’m expressing my disappointment at their change is because Musa’s reaction fits it. S6 we have such an AMAZING breakup (didn’t even think that was possible, WTH, right? Amazing breakup?) only for her to be mad as hell at Riven at S8? Bad writing, that has been dragging her (and the rest of the Winx) down to becoming just one unilateral, shallow character (the Specialists are also falling into that pit, what in the world did they do Helia in S8? He sounds like Thor telling about his “brave exploits” there, yikes). And continuity what? What continuity? Do they even remember how the breakup was written?

But ok, let’s put the Audience View aside for a moment and focus only on the In-Universe terms.

S6: You’ll always be my hero.

S8: What on EARTH are you doing here.

I laughed a bit, the contrast just got to me but instead of getting mad at one or the other like most of the fandom, I laughed.

Musa followed that by saying that Riven has not maintained contact and just in that I would be beyond pissed as well and giving my support to Musa. WTH, Riven? I think that each season is more less six months to a year? Sort of? Still, zero contact for so long even after ending on amicable terms and wanting to stay friends? And he went off on his own! A text now going, “I’m not dead” would be the bare basics for Musa not to worry herself bald!

BUT then I also read comments about how this was a two-way street, why didn’t Musa call either? That’s unfortunately something that I very much doubt will ever be explained. One of those: did it or didn’t it? Musa could have called and went straight to voicemail with no signs of life from Riven or she might not have called and just expected him to call as if feminism were dead and all initiative must come from the guy (which doesn’t even fit because they parted as friends).

Since we have no info on the above, I put it on both of them. It’s not fair to say, “HE should have called!” or “Why didn’t SHE call?” because we don’t have fricking context. So the only thing we can take is: no contact.

BECAUSE I put the lack of contact on both of them, Musa’s reaction was a little too much, however, Riven shows up all smirks and leaning against a tree with his arms crossed and I would have flashbacks to S1 if it wasn’t for the animation style that made all the guys look like girls. Dude! Not the time for that kind of posture. Not saying that he should be all sheepish and rubbing his arm as if he had done something horrible (again: we don’t have context on the no contact) but a more neutral approach was warranted here. Nobody does themselves any favors with that kind of attitude no matter what how high of a horse they may be (rightly or not) riding on, if anything I would react like Musa solely on that one.

Next episode we have that Riven convinced the guys to follow the girls in some mission and Musa was angry. Again: I would be too. WTH? Yes, yes, they helped and if it wasn’t for them, the Winx would gotten seriously injured but Musa did have a point saying that this demonstrated that they had no trust in them and need their hand held, it was no sanctioned mission like on Earth after all. BUT, Riven does something that I would never expect from in S1-4: he explains, he reasons it, he puts it in all the words that he does trust Musa and co and that he only wanted to show that he’d be there for her (you know? One of the main issues in S6 that made them breakup in the first place? His inability to conciliate Specialist work with supporting his girlfriend and ultimately failing or feeling like failing in both?) and Musa still pouts, crosses her arms, and turns around. Geez. I expected that one from Stella, not Musa. I think the closest Musa has ever come to THIS was back in S2 when Jared explains that Riven was the one to recommend that he interview Musa and yada yada yada and she got mad and stomped off on the poor guy that didn’t even understand what was going on (only to immediately apologize to Jared and recognizing that it wasn’t him that she was mad at… like I said: what character growth?).

Riven then goes to show that he indeed grew when he asked for advice from Sky and Brandon (WTH, right? Can we picture that happening back in S1-3? He very grudgingly would LISTEN to UNSOLICITED advice from Nabu and Helia in S4-6). And does a very, very goofy and embarrassing show of affection. Yeah… again… I can picture Stella loving the light show with her face for IDK how many people to see but not Musa (although can we really blame the guy after the series went out of its way to make Musa all Stella-like? Clothes, attitude, the only thing missing is making Riven carry her shopping bags around and call him “Shnookums” (although the mental image is already enough for me to fall over laughing, just for the face Riven would make). Still, I have to count that one against Riven if only because (as much as the show gives only lip service to it) Musa isn’t Stella.

Riven being mind controlled (again) aside, those two are back together. And on the overall? Riven showed more growth than any other character in the show COMBINED (he is the Zuko of the show), that doesn’t go to say that he didn’t make mistakes since coming back in S8 (but that was more a guy trying to win back a girl than… betraying his friends for a pair of nice legs or… IDEK like in S1 – where, mind control or not the show itself made sure to make it clear that he had free will) or that he is now the one out of Musa’s league. I think that NOW it can actually work… if the show allows him to keep the progress, Musa is the next to see her flaws and work on them (which she showed to be able to do since S2) and put effort in the relationship. The difference between them is that Musa can actually work on herself and the relationship at the same time. That’s not me saying she is better than Riven in any way, everybody has their own pace and their own way to cope, to improve and to self-reflect.

I still root for them.

~*~

PS-IDK why, but I read posts about how Riven changed so much and posts about how all his progress disappeared and he is now back to his S1 attitude and I’m just cofused. Yeah, different of opinions and so on, but such opposite opinions on the subject of a guy whose relationship was focused on three episodes?

#winx club #winx musa #winx riven #musa x riven #rivusa #anti stella #submission

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sepublic · 4 years

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Halloween Special: The Shut-In!

So, this episode is SUPPOSED to be canon, I believe? Or the idea is that within the episode itself, the events take place after the Plantars return to Wartwood, but otherwise it isn’t canon? I’m not sure, I’ll have to go check. Either way…

This was a REALLY fun, and surprisingly freaky episode, especially towards the end! I love the darker, pragmatic take on Halloween for Amphibia, and how the holiday is interpreted in this world as more of a doomsday preparation sort of thing, this show’s worldbuilding is always so fun. Let me tell you, I lost my mind when I saw human Sprig, Polly, Maddie, and Toadie! Is the implication that Toadie is actually, like, around the kids’ ages this entire time? That makes people shipping him and Mayor Toadstool, uh… VERY, er… But at the same time, I can see why everyone thought he was an adult- So an honest mistake and thus no harm done! And come to think of it, Polly seems to be about the same age as Sprig here. So, the ages may not necessarily match… But then come to think of it, it IS weird that the writers/animators chose to give Toadie a humansona, and not say, Ivy! Actually, Toadie is rather minor and feels oddly specific considering who else was excluded, so I have to wonder if there was some particular reason for this, of if the writers just felt like it?

Anyhow, the humanized versions of our frog friends are adorable, Sprig and Polly are gingers, no surprise there, and the bucket over Polly’s foot is so cute! I love how Anne didn’t even TRY to change who she was, she legit just tied up her hair and that’s it. Her story was a fun premise, and I expected the video to actually be a jumpscare that pulls in its victims at the last moment. And I mean, sort of? It definitely takes a while for that Video Cat demon thing to arrive… But I loved Anne in this bit, how she’s so smug and proud of herself and really doesn’t want to care what others say about her skills, you go girl! You go write dialogue! And I just realized, but this is possibly the closest look we have to Anne’s actual home and bedroom, assuming things haven’t been changed up all that much in the ‘bootleg’ translation… So F-Annes, analyze!

That Video Cat being unable to take criticism and literally dying to it is a mood. Also, either its eggs ARE boba, and/or they just taste like it… Either way, keep in mind that Molly legit took a huge bite out of one. Then again, more feral things have happened in Amphibia and ESPECIALLY with Polly, so I guess I’m not too shocked- Look at Anne, she wanted to eat that monster crab that almost killed Sylvia way back when! Are those cats invincible because they’re bound to no videos, or are they subject to regular criticism in general… Can they also be physically killed as well?

WHY am I even asking, when we know this isn’t canon whatsoever and is never going to come up again!? Anne insists that this happened to her phone specifically, so I guess the gag is that the phone had a previous owner named Anna, etc…. Still, while it’s funny how Anne just gets away with completely making up a story, I do have to wonder if it’s like. Allegorical to a real-life experience. Probably not, given the presence of humanized Sprig, Polly, Maddie, and Toadie… Unless Anne is recounting something that happened in Amphibia, but then Sprig and Polly would’ve recognized what Anne is alluding to, given how they remembered those other past adventures (which was a hilarious gag that I felt nostalgic to recognize). I’m probably just overthinking it.

Then, we’ve got Hop Pop’s story! He had LUSCIOUS locks, and he met the Grim Reaper- Again, allegedly. Not gonna lie I assumed that dude was Frog Lucifer or something, but this is kind of better? Either way that was pretty dark, and I love the implication that the Grim Reaper legit went out of his way to steal some rando’s hair. Poor Hop Pop, he never got his hair back! Are we going to call this canon? Does this confirm the presence of a Frog Grim Reaper?

(Side-note, I feel bad for Wally! Imagine being born on a day where everyone has to be holed up lest they turn into Were-Amphibians! That must’ve been quite the scandal for the Ribbiton family, I have to wonder if this influenced his decision to go out and live his own life with how lonely Wally was…)

Then we have Sprig’s story! I’m so happy to see Ivy again, I never realized how much I missed her and her adorable design, and her hair is so cute! Kind of reminds me of Anne with how wild it is, I want to see a one-shot of Anne bonding with Ivy over their messy hair now. I really appreciate that gag of Sprig realizing what Ivy’s about to say, about how everyone has knitting needles, and Ivy breaking down that door without remorse. This story was my favorite, not just for the comedy, but also…

DANG, that was legitimately terrifying?!When I saw those slimy frog skins, knowing those were actual people, with Hop Pop even suggesting one of them could’ve been Gary… and YIKES, what happens to the flayed bodies?!? Legit I freaked out when I saw the Seamstress, this was straight-up Leather Face, the show wasn’t even trying to be subtleor dodge around it, those were actual people skins! This was some Wartwood Chainsaw Massacre…! Seeing all of those hanging skins and faces gave me the heebie-jeebies, I didn’t expect the show to go THIS far, and while I’m impressed and glad it managed to freak me out, still! That build up to the reveal of Ivy literally ripping off that ‘face’, us seeing a glimpse of the Seamstress before her skins fall off, and it looks like she lacks any skin entirely, and that’s why she wears others’!

Only, she DOES have skin, it’s just clear- Fun fact, I watched this with my brother and he immediately recognized the Seamstress as a Glass Frog, by name, before Sprig did! I think it was a neat gag how for Sprig, he immediately calms down because for Amphibians, Glass Frogs are a somewhat normal and non-supernatural facet of life, relatively speaking. For us humans, well, it reminds me of this one myth about a woman whose head can rise from her body, unveiling her organs…

I THOUGHT the episode was going to go the sweet route, even as I joked that the Seamstress still, y’know, KILLED people. And like Apothecary Gary, the show remembered this and we legit had the Seamstress burn to death in a classic horror movie finale, and I yelled when she made one last stand to grab Ivy by the leg and bite her! I get that there’s meant to be an allegory between Ivy not appreciating her own hair, and the Seamstress not appreciating her own skin, body positivity and all that- But mostly I was too freaked out to appreciate it. Ivy waddling around blindly in present-time was adorable, though.

And, Polly! I LOVE the sort of lesson, the realization that her being gone was scarier than ANY story they’d heard that night (probably because this was real, at least I assume the other stories were fake but regardless). We get our twist of Polly turning into a Were-Tadpole, and then anticlimactically reacting while the others lose their minds as noises of ruckus are heard, implying that Polly immediately went feral afterwards, or the others just made a mess as they freaked out! Also, love the twist on the ending credits, that’s delightfully morbid…

All in all, this was a great episode! Surprisingly scary, and definitely hilarious- It’s a much-needed break from this Amphibia hiatus, especially now that I’m also dealing with the hiatus for The Owl House and Infinity Train (the latter of whom may be permanent PLEASE watch the show on HBO Max), and Kipo’s ending. I do have Carmen Sandiego’s third season to watch, though. I wonder if there’s any speculation to be gleaned from the Blue Moon turning people into monsters, and how that can connect to Blue Energy for the Calamity Box relating to the virtue of Heart. Does the Blue Moon turn people into a monstrous form that reflects the darker sides/fears of their heart? I’m probably overthinking it. Either way, I’m really glad we got a classic Holiday Episode for this show- I always love those, ESPECIALLY Halloween ones!

#amphibia #halloween #amphibia anne #anne boonchuy #amphibia hop pop #hopediah plantar #amphibia sprig #sprig plantar #amphibia polly #polly plantar #amphibia ivy

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sockablock · 4 years

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Chapter 11: Make Yourself at Home

“So, this is the place you were talking about, huh? I’m not going to lie, it’s much better than I expected.”

“Aw, thanks! It’s my momma’s cabin. She owns a bunch of places around here, but this is the closest one to school.”

“A bunch of places? What a lucky woman.”

“Wait ‘til you find out what else she owns.” Nott draped her coat over the nearest hook. “Lucky doesn’t even start to cover it.”

The rest of the gang filed in through the door.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Beau began with a grin, “I wouldn’t mind staying the night in a—"

“Anyway,” Fjord coughed into his hand. “Isn’t there something more important we should talk about?”

“That is right.” Caleb turned to Molly. “Namely, what it is we should do about…well, you.”

“Is that so?” Without looking back, their newest cabin-mate strode into the living room. He threw himself across Beau’s favorite chair. “Good luck with that, then. I’ll be here in the meantime.”

“In the meantime? What’s that supposed to mean?” Beau followed him in and made a mental vow to steal her seat back as soon as possible.

Molly waved his hand. “I was under the impression that your…angel would be taking care of things. That’s her new job, isn’t it? To mask me from bikers?”

“Only for now.” Yasha met his gaze with a stern frown. “I cannot look after you forever. I will not even be here for much longer.”

“Which would be our second problem,” Caleb sighed. Behind him, Jester—and for some reason, Caduceus—danced around looking for bedsheets and extra toothbrushes, the hallmarks of an excellent host.

“Right,” said Beau. “We sort of left off on a…I hate to say it, but sort of a dead end.”

“Really? Weren’t you working something out?” Nott asked. “What about all that stuff with the dictionary, Caleb? And those star charts?”

“Those are only a start,” he shrugged. “With our current level of information, it is not enough. Like I said…when was it now, yesterday?”

“It felt like years ago.” Fjord combed dirt out of his hair.

“Regardless,” Caleb continued, “we need more clues. Something. Anything. At this point I would even take subjective commentary. Like the way the sun felt. Or if there was much sun at all, Yasha.”

“You mean like if she was on the moon?” Nott asked.

“I mean like if there was a lot of shade. Like in a jungle.”

They turned to Yasha. She sighed.

“I’m not sure, I…” she squeezed her eyes shut, “…I think…yes, the sun. It…felt warm.”

When she opened her eyes, they were still staring. “Er….”

Caleb came to her rescue. “Okay, perhaps I should have been less literal. Sorry, Engel, but that was not very helpful.”

“Pajamas!” Jester spun back into the living room. Behind her, Caduceus was holding a tray of tea, topped off with a little jar of honey. “Here you are, Molly!” She leaned over the couch. “And let me say again, welcome to our house! Demon of not, I think you’re great. I’m excited to hang out with you some more!”

“Ah, you’re a darling,” he flashed her a smile. “I can already tell you’ll be my favorite. Although, perhaps, I think I’ll be better company once I’m clean. If you all are going to keep talking about…whatever important thing you’re talking about, I’d like to use this opportunity to shower.”

“Oh, yeah, here,” Fjord quickly stood up. “You can borrow my shampoo, the bathroom’s there—"

The two of them wandered off. Caduceus handed everyone else their mugs.

“Let’s keep going tomorrow,” Caleb said, trying on his most reassuring smile. “Who knows? We might find something after all. And with more time, Yasha, you might regain more memories.”

It was small, but Beau noticed Yasha skip past his gaze to stare deep into her cup.

“Maybe,” she said. “I hope so. Otherwise…”

“It’ll be okay,” Caduceus smiled. “In my experience, the best things come with time.”

— — —

Beauregard lingered by herself in the hallway outside their room. Currently, Jester and Fjord were giving a freshly-washed Molly the grand tour of the cabin while Caleb and Caduceus—with varying degrees of contribution—rearranged their room to accommodate him. And since Nott was calling her family in the living room, this would probably be Beau’s best chance to talk to Yasha alone.

She breathed in.

Nearly every conversation they’d had since the initial fall had ended in a tangled mess. Not to mention, Yasha’s situation had changed dramatically in the last few hours. On top of that, Beau was still roiling in guilt for lying to her all those days ago. It was very likely that neither of them would be in the right headspace for a heart-to-heart, and that wasn’t even taking into account how nauseous Beau felt at that very phrase—“heart-to-heart.”

Something else was poking at her too, something she’d had to shove aside earlier but now couldn’t shake away: it had been a while since she’d seen Yasha’s wings, but she knew for a fact that the first two times, they had been…well, they had been white—

And coupled with the fact that the angel only recently had started acting so anxious to leave, whereas before she’d been confused, but way more relaxed…

Beau breathed out and stared at the floor. Maybe it was time to stop wondering about what her own motivations were. Caleb, Fjord, and Jester had all made valid points, but truth be told, she was starting to get the sense that right now, how she felt wasn’t as important.

Still, the question did remain. What would she rather do?

“Yasha?” She tapped her knuckles on the doorframe. Sitting up, and dimly framed in moonlight, Yasha’s mighty silhouette turned.

Maybe she’d always known the answer.

“Beauregard. Hello. Is it time for bed?”

“No, uh…no, probably not for a while.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I think Jes is showing off her mom’s jewelry. Fjord tagged along—it’s probably to be polite, but also to make sure Molly won’t steal anything. They’ll be at that for an hour at best.”

“It is good for Fjord to be careful,” Yasha nodded. “Though I am more worried about your souls being stolen than jewelry.”

“Yeah, uh, that thought also crossed my mind.” She made her way inside. “I mean, I’m mostly…not worried at all, but—wait, should I be worried? Do you think that’ll happen?”

Yasha thought about it. “He already knows your names, which is…not great. But as long as you do not make any promises, I think you should be fine. Do not shake his hand. No matter what he says.”

“Really? Like…metaphorically?”

“Either. Both. Deals are bad.”

Beau sat down on the wooden dresser beside Yasha’s makeshift cot. Even at this angle, Yasha was still taller.

“You’ve said stuff like that before,” she remembered. “You told me that ‘your kind’ had been corrupted that way. Right? Because they dealt with us?”

“Sort of. There is less blame on you, it is…just that mortal souls are powerful.” Yasha ran her fingers through her hair. “Basically…the short version is that there are pieces of light that exist inside you, light from the very essence of our world. It fuels us, and it keeps us alive, but too much and it can drive us mad. We lose sight of everything else in pursuit of more and more and…more of that light.”

Beau let her words sink in. “Yikes.”

“Yes. That is why we have so many rules. Why demons are dangerous. Why I am risking so much by staying here.”

Beau tilted her head. “Do you feel mad?”

Yasha didn’t answer right away. And then Beau steeled herself, she said—

“Your, uh, wings—"

Yasha went still.

It would not have been hard to miss. But Beau had spent so much time together with her in the last few days that when her breathing stopped, her shoulders stiffened, her eyes affixed to the sheets—

“Shit, I-I’m sor—"

“You know what is happening then?”

Yasha’s voice was a quaver. Beau paused.

“I…really don’t know a lot about angel stuff,” she said slowly, “but I do remember what I…saw. And I know that it isn’t the same as what I saw the night you landed. And then…I started thinking about how panicked you were about ‘interfering,’ and…well.”

She avoided Yasha’s gaze. “It’s my fault, isn’t it? It’s because I convinced you to stay with me—with us. Instead of just letting you go.”

The silence lingered on. Beau bunched up the edge of her shirt and waited, dreading, the answer—

“…I don’t know.”

Her head shot up.

“You…what?”

“I, ah.” Yasha’s shoulders drooped. “I really do not know. Nothing like this has ever happened before. On the one hand, in all my visits to Earth, this is the first time that I ever talked to mortals. But…at the same time, I—I don’t actually think I’ve done anything to…to justify a fall.”

Beau opened her mouth. She closed it again.

“So…huh. Then that’s—you really don’t know.”

“No,” Yasha sighed. “Although, you should know that I do not think you could blame yourself in any case. I would not have stayed if a part of me did not want to, Beauregard.”

Beau actively worked to shut down her facial features. Her reply, a pitched, “Oh.”

“One thing is definitely certain, though,” huffed Yasha, unaware of the battle raging in Beau’s mind. “The longer that I remain on Earth, the…the worse things could become. My wings are not…all that good, but…I still have them. That means I am still an angel. That…I am still an angel.”

Beau nodded, and managed to re-focus. “Then…then I bet it’s alright,” she said. “I mean, you aren’t out of time. And you know how stubborn we all are, there’s no way we’ll give up now. We’ll make sure you find your way home. You’re one of us now, Yash, we’d do anything for you.”

Yasha’s mouth twitched. “Thank you, Beauregard.” It was a smile. “For everything. Really. I…can never express to you how grateful I am. How lucky I was to land in front of you.”

Beau’s eyes flew wide, and Yasha backpedaled. “I just mean—no—well, no, not no—I didn’t—that was—that is—all of you. Everyone. You and your friends. Are good people. I…thank you.”

“Well, hey,” Beau’s arm shifted as if to almost reach out, and then she thought better of it. “My friends are your friends too,” she said, quite awkwardly, instead. “You’re one of us. And we’re friends. We’re…all friend, here.”

“Right, er, right,” managed Yasha; it was getting hot in their room. “Yes. Exactly. We are friends. Uh—"

In a fit of absolute panic, she stuck out her hand. Amazingly, Beau took it.

Their hands shook. Neither of them looked.

“Th-thank you,” said Yasha, when they finally broke away. “Besides, um…you know, I’m not leaving yet. I still don’t’ know where I’m going. There’s also the, uh, the—Mollymauk. I do not want to fly him across the world with me.”

“Right,” said Beau. “Yeah, that’s…we…we’re all kind of following your lead on that one.” Then she hesitated, and when Yasha blinked back in confusion, Beau suddenly inhaled so sharply it almost hurt.

“Look, uh, look, there’s something I gotta say from a while ago—it was a, well, a—Yasha, I owe you an apology.”

A beat.

Yasha stared at her. “Me?”

“It’s…really dumb,” Beau blurted out. “Not that—no, not that—you weren’t dumb, I was, I did—I lied to you. Back then.”

If anything, she looked even more perplexed.

“You…did?”

“Sort of,” her eyes fell to the mattress. “I, uh…when you told me about auras, that one time, I…freaked out and told you a lie. I, uh…I don’t know if you’ve noticed at all, but I kind of like being…mysterious. God, no, not mysterious, it’s just…look, I was feeling conflicted about some stuff. Stuff that I wasn’t…ready to share. So when you told me that you could see my aura, I panicked. I told you it was shitty of you to do that, which…that was really shitty of me.”

“Oh,” said Yasha. “Is that…then, does that mean humans are okay with me reading them?”

“I’m pretty sure humans aren’t aware of it enough to actually have an opinion. The point is,” she sighed, “I lied to you. You had way more reason than I did to be confused, and upset, and…and just unsure. But when you reached out to, like, understand me, I pushed you away. I…don’t ever want to do that.”

She risked a glance up. “I’m sorry.”

And then, to her shock, Yasha nodded.

“It’s okay.”

Beau blinked. “It…is?”

“Er…yes,” said Yasha. “I think it is. You were just being protective of yourself. That is alright. Especially if you…were not ready to share things. And you did not mean to hurt me, yes?”

“Did I hurt you?”

Yasha considered this. “To be honest, um, no. You didn’t, not really. And if you did, then I forgot about it when Caleb told me I was missing 6,000 years of my memory.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Er…is that ‘yikes’?”

Maybe it was the relief, the sheer drop from such panic, or maybe it was the way Yasha’s eyebrows were bunching, but Beauregard could not keep herself from bursting out into laughter.

Yasha looked startled at first, but she recovered when Beau gave her a grin.

“You know what? I think it is time for bed.”

“What? Oh,” Yasha still looked puzzled, but she nodded. “Oh, er…sure. Yes. No problem.”

— — —

There was just one problem.

Jester groaned, pressing her face into her pillow. “I take it back. I take it all back. This is the worst thing in the world and we should call that circus right now.”

“Can’t,” muttered Nott. “Don’t have their numbers.”

“Maybe we can put up posters,” Beau suggested. “Let the evil bikers know where he is. They can have him.”

There was a rustle in the darkness. “Yasha,” said Nott, “are all demons like this?”

Another rustle followed. “Er…I have heard that the most fearsome demons plague their victims with visions of hellfire and ruin. But I think there are many ways to torment people.”

“Where the does not shutting up come in on that list?”

Yasha also had a pillow on her head. “The very top, I think.”

From the other side of the all-too-thin wall, a flood of music poured through. Fjord had made the crucial mistake of telling Molly to “make yourself at home,” and since Molly’s only home had been a crowded RV full of mostly-drunk carnies plunging down the highways of America at midnight, he’d said it was impossible for him to sleep without some “background noise.”

“Oh, sure,” Fjord had said. “Background noise should be fine.”

“He’s a guest,” sighed Jester. “We basically kidnapped him. I felt bad, and I didn’t think…I didn’t think he’d be like this.”

“Maybe someone will come to our rescue,” said Beau. “Maybe Caleb will finally snap and kill him.”

“Oh, if anyone would do it, it would be Caleb,” Nott agreed. “Fjord’s too weak. Or…maybe Cad, the quiet ones are always murderers.”

“It wouldn’t be murder,” Beau called sleepily. “It would be a civic duty.”

“Maybe we can plug our ears.” Yasha rolled over to look at the other girls. “Do any of you have some beeswax?”

The deep pause that followed would have been silence if not for the blaring—let’s have a party there’s a full moon in the sky, it’s the hour of the—

“I wanna die,” said Nott. “If he doesn’t, I will.”

“I can try to find some bees if I must,” Yasha pressed. “I feel guilty. I am the one who dragged him into your lives—"

She jumped when something brushed the side of her leg.

“We don’t need bees,” said Beau, who was slapping around the edge of her mattress, totally blind. “Here, I’ve got extra. Everyone, come get some. Earplugs. They’re not enough, but…helps.”

Yasha recovered quickly, reaching over to accept the little pieces of orange foam. There was some general shuffling and muted “thank yous” as Nott and Jester acquired pairs as well.

“Nice,” said Beau, rolling over on the floor. “Adds a pop to your monochrome.”

Yasha couldn’t tell whether that was addressed to her. But when it seemed clear that Beau had just passed out again, she carefully pressed the earplugs in. Then she sat there a moment longer, staring at her leg, surrounded by the muted blare of a hundred trumpets.

Off in the distance and dulled, Nott said, “I’m gonna go threaten to cut his head off.”

— — —

And then, eventually, there was quiet.

— — —

See:

Not…not a storm at all. Not even a lingering cloud.

Instead, there is just the blue and endless sky.

Somewhere, she is…lying down. The sun is warm. She is…somewhere. She is somewhere where a field of green-turning-gold-turning-russet wild grasses ripple slow.

There’s a gentle brush against her leg. She looks down. It’s a little white flower.

It’s…it’s being held in…someone’s hand.

Her head jerks up.

“Wait, who are y—"

— — —

Her eyes focused on a face.

“Huh?” said Beauregard. “Was that for me?”

Yasha sat up so quickly that Beau had to jump backwards. “Whoa, there—"

Yasha ignored this, whipped her head around, took in two unmade bunks, a mess of blankets, golden sunlight—

The curtains by the window rippled slow.

“I…but…”

“Yasha?” Beau frowned. “Hey, Yash, is everything okay?”

“But I…there was…” Her hands dug into the sides of her face as she squeezed her eyes shut. “There was…a field,” she bit out. “Grass. Under the sky, and a flower, and a p—"

She froze.

“Uh…Yasha?”

A…person. There had been a person. Someone—but who? It was someone…important…

And then the thought—no one can know.

“N-nothing,” Yasha blurted, though she didn’t quite know why. “It was…it was nothing. Er…but there might be something more I have for Caleb to work with.”

Beau’s concerned expression vanished. “Oh, what? Oh—hey, that’s awesome!” She closed the distance, even went to clap Yasha on the back. “That’s great! He’s gonna be totally thrilled! And that’s one step closer to you getting to…go. Oh.”

They both fell silent. Through the door, the clattering sounds of the rest setting a table.

Beau’s hand fell back to her side.

“Of course, we always knew you were gonna leave at some point. And…you know, you were ready to bolt, like, two days ago, so it stands to reason that you…should be happy to leave…”

Yasha looked up at Beauregard.

A person. Someone important…

“Beau, um…Beau, I think I—"

The door burst open. Nott shoved her head in, eyebrows raised.

“God, what’s taking you two so long? Cad made pancakes! C’mon, we’re waiting!”

— — —

A thick slab of blueberry-laden goodness landed in the center of Yasha’s plate. A sweet, buttery, slightly tart aroma wafted through the kitchen.

“So, I think I still have a bit more catching-up to do, don’t I?” said Molly, who was sitting in a chair with a slouch so bad it looked like his spine was broken. “For one, it seems like I’ve missed the book club meeting that made you all friends.”

“We met in college,” said Fjord, rubbing his eyes. “Not a book club.”

“Same difference,” Molly shrugged. “It’s just that I can’t help but feel a tad bit excluded from your pre-existing lovefest.”

“It would be easier to include you if you knew how to be quiet sometimes,” Nott grumbled.

He stuck his tongue out, and it was stained with blueberry.

“I think we are overdue for a proper meeting anyway,” said Caleb, spearing his pancake. “A lot has changed in the last twenty-four hours. We should review our goals and priorities.”

“Get home,” said Yasha. “Do that by finding ȣɿɕƺᶋɷ.”

“What the hell,” said Molly.

“Later,” Caleb sighed. “Right, okay, that’s item one on our list, our continuing mission to find Iothia. And once we do…?”

Yasha shuffled. It was quick, almost missed, but she glanced at Beau.

“Er…then I…leave,” she said. “I fly there, and I can return home.”

“Aw, really?” Jester pouted. “You’re really just going to leave right away?”

If anything, Yasha’s next expression was even more complicated. She fidgeted again. “I, er, sort of…sort of have to. As…quickly as possible, I think.”

“Man, that sucks.”

Yasha managed a tiny smile. “I know.”

“But you can’t go until you’ve taught me repression,” Molly said, quickly waving his fork for attention. “I need to get back to my circus, my dear. And I can’t do that safely until I learn to hide.”

“Which means you’ll be sticking around a little longer, Yasha.” Caduceus down the plate of pancakes and took a seat. “Isn’t that nice?”

“And you’ll be hanging out with me,” Molly grinned. “I expect we’ll get to know each other very well.”

A loud thump shook the table and everyone’s heads suddenly turned to Beauregard.

She blinked. Then she looked down.

“Shit, uh…sorry. I think I missed my plate.”

“Jesus christ,” said Fjord. “That’s an inch into solid wood.”

Beau gripped the handle of the knife she’d sunk into the table. On the second try, she managed to yank it free.

“Sorry, uh…sorry again,” she said. “Jes, your mom can bill my dad.”

“Are both of you rich girls?” Molly asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” she shot him a deep scowl. “You just worry about…about learning to shut up your aura, or whatever. Then Yasha can get on with stuff that’s actually important, and you can finally leave us all alone.”

“My, my, someone’s touchy, isn’t she?” Molly folded his hands over his lap. “Anger issues are bad for your health.”

“You know what else is bad for my health, asshole? Not being able to fucking sleep ‘cause someone needs a rock concert every night—"

“Okay, okay, okay,” said Fjord, holding his hands up so fast he almost knocked over the milk. “Alright, I think that’s enough, you two. Molly found headphones eventually, right? And now he knows better.”

“What am I, a child—"

“And we’ve got to be a little more understanding of a man who’s just had their whole life turned around. It’s not every day we find out we’re not even human.”

“Not a man either,” Molly added.

“Ah, sorry—"

“It’s alright, dear.” He sighed. Then, with a swoop of what could only be described as exaggerated magnanimity, he turned to Beauregard.

“Truce? Not surrender, just armistice.”

She rolled her eyes, but did concede. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Back to the matter at hand, then,” said Caleb, as that piece of breakfast theater concluded. “Yasha. Even though your sense memory from last night was…for lack of a better term, undescriptive, it gave me the idea that we could perhaps try to use images of natural places to trigger more. Jester’s mother has a number of picture atlases in the study, after all. Perhaps we could start there today.”

Yasha lowered her fork. “Actually…while I was asleep, I remembered something more.”

This was followed by a chorus of clattering and hurried exclamations, the loudest being Nott’s, “What, really?!”

“Er…yes, but it was very small,” Yasha said. “I…remembered lying down. In a field of golden grass. And, um…there was a flower. It was, um, white.”

“Is that all?” Caleb said after a while.

She hesitated.

Then, “Yes.”

“Well, that’s not too bad,” said Caduceus. “It might even be a great, actually. Most flowers only grow in specific climates anyway, and if we’re lucky, it might only be native to a certain area.”

“Ooooh, oh! What did it look like?” Jester asked. Then her eyes lit up. “Oh—Yasha, you should draw it!”

She jumped out of her chair and was running back from the living room with her sketchbook before they even processed this.

“And you’re getting so much better at art too,” she squealed, “this’ll be great practice—"

“Jester, are you sure—"

She pushed Yasha’s plate aside and handed her a pencil triumphantly. “Close your eyes! Picture it! Then draw!”

Even Caleb seemed reluctant to argue with Jester. He shrugged and said, “But also please describe it to us, please.”

Yasha put her fork down. She took the pencil.

“I’m really not good,” she said, weakly, but she did her best to envision the flower. “Okay, um, it was small…very small, and it had seven little points like this…”

A moment later, everyone leaned in to see the drawing.

“Aw, it’s so pretty!” Jester beamed. “Good job!”

“Ah—thank you.”

“Any idea what it is?” Fjord glanced at Caduceus. “Have you seen this before?”

Cad scratched his chin. “I can’t say I have, but…it shouldn’t be that hard to find. You said it’s white?”

“And small,” Yasha added. “As big as someone’s—someone’s fingernail.”

“My momma has tons of books on flowers,” Jester supplied. “Maybe those can help?”

“I’m sure they will. And Caduceus is right,” Caleb added, “this is an excellent jumping-off point. If we have this drawing too, Yasha, I can take over from here. That will give you time to help train our newest...divine associate.”

“You don’t have to lay on the flattery that thick,” Molly smiled. “Though I appreciate the compliment.”

“I meant that literally.”

“Why, thank you—"

“I can help you too.” Beau was determined to silence Mollymauk quickly. “Again, it’s not like I’m doing much anyway. At least this time there’ll be pictures, right?”

“Are you sure?” Yasha leaned backwards. “If you don’t want to—"

“No, no, really. I’ve told you, Yash, and I’ll say it again, I really don’t mind any of this. I want to do this. And you can’t stop me.”

Yasha met her gaze, then nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Exactly,” said Beau, and raised her chin in a display of satisfaction. Then she hesitated, turned towards the rest. “But if the rest of you don’t feel like helping, I mean…I’m a deadbeat, but Fjord, you’re supposed to be reading for a summer class. And Nott, you’ve got stuff for your job, right? And Jes—"

“How about we clear up the living room and do what we need to do together?” Fjord asked. “Solidarity. It’ll be like…like study hall!”

“I’m game!” said Nott. “As much as it sucks, I should probably get on that.”

“Me too,” Jester clapped her hands. “It’s not as fun as fishing or introducing Yasha to fries, but studying won’t be so bad if we’re all together!”

Molly stared at her incredulously. “Are you—really?” He turned to the rest, aghast. “You’re all really going to sit down and do…do work? Willingly? Nevermind, this is much worse than a book club.”

He leaned over and nudged Yasha in the shoulder. “My goodness, aren’t we lucky to be divine? I’d rather do anything than, ugh, read.”

—

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discotreque · 4 years

Text

LwD 1.10, “No Small Parts”

Well, that was the most fun I've had watching Star Trek in literally a quarter of a century.

I had high hopes for this series. I love TAS, largely because of its wacky outsized concepts that could only have worked in animation—not that they all did work, but the potential was so apparent to me, even as a kid reading the Alan Dean Foster novelizations—and as an adult, there's something about the imagination of Lower Decks's FX setpieces that transcends even the glorious CGI bonanzas of Discovery.

Pause for a confession. I've long pushed back against criticism of serialization in new Trek. That's just how TV is now, okay? Might as well complain about it being in widescreen. But I'm backing down a little, because I've realized there is something about Star Trek that's inextricable from at least a partially-episodic format. And while Picard was telling a different kind of story, I can't deny that my favourite episodes of Disco have been the ones with a mostly self-contained A-plot. After 10 delightfully episodic instalments of LwD, its focus on long-term development of characters instead of a season-spanning puzzle-plot (okay, mostly just Mariner, but we only have 10 × 22 minutes and she is the star) has been downright refreshing.

So here we are, at the end of the most consistent and well-executed Season 1 of a Star Trek series since, arguably, Those Old Scientists. And sure, if they'd had to produce another... yikes, 42 episodes? Then sure, they probably would have dropped a clunker or two—but they didn't, and winning on a technicality is still winning. I'm practically vibrating with excitement for Disco to come back next week, but damn, I'm going to miss this little show while it's on hiatus.

Spoilers below:

Something I've been keeping track of finally paid off this week! (Which never happens to me, lol.) The destruction of the USS Solvang marked the first present-day death(s) of any Starfleet officer on Lower Decks, the only other on-screen killing at all being a flashback in "Cupid's Errant Arrow". Which makes sense, being (a) a comedy, and (b) about typically "expendable" characters: it hasn't been afraid to flirt with a little darkness here and there, but killing people off at Star Trek's usual pace wouldn't just be wrong for the tone, it would be downright bizarre.

But... people die on Star Trek. That's one of the core themes of the show, really: space is full of knowledge and beauty, but also danger and terror, and believing that the former is worth the risk of the latter is (according to Trek) one of humanity's most noble traits. I'm the least bloodthirsty TV watcher I know, but the longer we went with a body count of nil—ships completely evacuated before they were destroyed, main characters hilariously maimed without permanent consequences, etc.—well, I didn't mind per se, but the absence of truly deadly stakes was definitely getting conspicuous.

Turns out they were saving it up for maximum impact. And holy fuck, I've never felt such a pit in my stomach watching a ship get destroyed that wasn't named Enterprise. It felt grim and brutal and somehow both much too quick and dreadfully inevitable—and yeah, it looked extremely fucking cool—and I'd like every other Star Trek property for the rest of time to take notes under a large bold heading labeled RESTRAINT.

Comedy doesn't need to do this, but my favourite comedy does, and in a way that few other art forms can even approach: lower my emotional defences by making me laugh, endear character(s) to me with goofy-but-relatable antics—then BAM, sucker-punch me in the motherfucking feels. M*A*S*H is probably the classic example on TV, Futurama was notorious for it, and even Archer has pulled it off a few times; it's also a staple of some of my favourite standup. I wasn't sure if Lower Decks was going to go there in Season 1—and wasn't sure if they'd earn it—but I knew if they did, that they'd nail it, and damn. Feels good to be right.

Last batch of notes for the season!!! I rambled enough already, so let's do it liveblog-style:

I fucking KNEW they were going to use "archive" visuals from TAS at some point, I KNEW IT :D

"THOSE OLD SCIENTISTS" ahahahahahahahahahahahaha

I like chill and confident Boimler a lot? You can really see—

oh bRADWARD NOOOOO

That opening shot of the Solvang tracking down to the red giant was extremely Discovery-esque... minus the motion sickness, that is

A lady captain AND a lady first officer? That's—oh hey, it's Captain Dayton's brand-new ship. Hahaha, that means they're totally fucked, right?.

Yep! They sure a—umm, wh—shit, okay, but—oh no—no, you can't—wait DON'T

...fuck

FUCK.

Narrator: "And then Amy needed a five-hour break."

[live-action Star Trek showrunner voice] "Gee, Mike! Why does CBS let you have two cold opens?"

Okay, yes, the bit with Rutherford cycling through all the different attitudes in his implant was transparently an excuse for Eugene Cardero to vamp while waiting for something to do in the story, but as far as I'm concerned they can contrive a reason for him to do a bunch of different silly Rutherfords in a row any time they damn well want, because that was classic!!!

EXOCOMP EXOCOMP EXOCOMP EXOCOMP

AND THE EXOCOMP IS PAINTED LIKE THE EXOCOMP IS WEARING A LITTLE EXOCOMP-SIZED STARFLEET UNIFORM

EXOCOMP!!!!!

The slow burn and now the payoff of the Mariner-is-Freeman's-secret-daughter plot has been executed so well. I'm beyond impressed with this writer's room, y'all—they are threading a hell of a needle here

"Wolf 359 was an inside job" would have been a spit-take if I'd had anything in my mouth

...how many memos do you think Starfleet Command has had to issue asking people to stop calling the USS Sacramento "the Sac"?

CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW THEY'VE DECORATED THE SHUTTLECRAFT SEQUOIA THOUGH

Is, uh, is it weird if I'm starting to ship Tendi and Peanut Hamper a little? It is weird, isn't it. I knew it was weird...

Coital barbs??? I take back everything I said about wanting to know more about Shaxs/T'Ana.

The "good officer" version of Mariner is... kind of hot, tbh! But Tawny Newsome has done such a great job of building this character all season that her voice getting uncharacteristically clipped and martial and "sir! yes, sir!" is also deeply, deeply weird

Ah, so this is literally exactly like when TNG (and DS9) would bring in, and then blow up, a never-before-seen Galaxy-class ship, just to underscore that we're facing a real threat this week, baby. And hey, it fucking worked—my heart was in my throat, omg, for the reveal of the—

PAKLEDS?????????

The fucking PAKLEDS have been gluing weapons to their ships for the last 15 years. GREAT.

(We interrupt the SHIP BEING SLICED INTO SCRAP for an interesting bit of world-building: on Earth, the traditional First Contact Day meal is salmon!)

"I need a dangerous, half-baked solution that breaks Starfleet codes and totally pisses me off! That's an order." I'm starting to think Captain Freeman might actually be overqualified for the Cerritos, y'all—she's REALLY awesome

OH SHIT IT'S BADGEY, this is a TERRIBLE IDEA

"How much contraband have you hidden on my ship?" "I don't know! A lot!"

Awwww, Boims!!!

AHAHAHAHAHAHA, FUCK THIS, PEANUT HAMPER OUT

BADGEY NOOOOO

AUGHHHHH WHAT THE CHRIST DID HE JUST—BUT—RUTHERFORD'S IMPLANT????

RUTHERFORD!!!!!!!!!!

SHAXS!!!!!!

F U C K ! ! ! ! !

ahaIOPugdfhagntpgjrq90e5mgu90qe5;oigoqgw4ouegrw5SP;IAEHURVa IT’S THE TITAN???????????

IT'S CAPTAIN WILLIAM T. RIKER ON THE MOTHERFUCKING TITAN??????????

i'm screaming I'M SCREAMINGGGGGGTGGGTGQER;LBHAOIBVNV;OAPBIJNVagr;h;oagruipuwtnaetbaetgq35ghqet

I'M SO GLAD THIS WASN'T SPOILED FOR ME WTF

I AM WEEPING LIKE A CHILD

...

(Just a brief 20-minute pause this time)

And oh wow, seeing Will and Deanna hits different after Picard too, in a few different ways, which I may even get into later now that my heartrate is back to normal, lmao

Oh, I am always here for some jokes at the expense of the Sovereign class. The Enterprise-E sucked. They should have built a new bigger model of the D and new Galaxy-class interiors for the TNG movies, and I will die on that hill

OKAY, FINE, YOU GOT ME, RUTHERFORD × TENDI WOULD BE ADORABLE AND THIS IS ACTUALLY A PRETTY GOOD SETUP FOR IT

Awwww, Shaxs though :( Congrats on the single most badass death in Star Trek history, dude. The Prophets would—well, the actual Prophets would probably be slightly confused about most of it, but Kira Nerys would be proud of you and I feel like that probably counts for more. RIP, Papa Bear

I am here all damn DAY for the Mariner–Riker parallels, ahahahahaha

Pausing it to record my prediction that Boimler's commitment to not caring about rank anymore is going to last 3... 2...

Yep.

Bradward, how DARE YOU.

"Those guys had a long road, getting from there to here." OH FOR THE LOVE OF—

What a brilliant way to resolve and renew the various character arcs and relationships moving into Season 2! The writers could easily have brought everything back to status quo—chaotic Mariner fighting with her mom and being a bad influence on Boimler, etc.—and done another 10 just like these, but I suspect that wouldn't have been ambitious enough for these writers. What a blast. I cannot wait for more.

Thanks for following along, friends! Stay tuned for my (similarly patchy and amateur) coverage of Discovery, starting next week!

#star trek #star trek lower decks #lwd spoilers #lower decks spoilers #lower decks #amy's episode notes

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emachinescat · 4 years

Text

Way Back Wednesday #1

Welcome to Way Back Wednesday! Every Wednesday, I am delving into my past as a fanfic writer and reflecting on and sharing one of my stories… starting from the very beginning, 16 years ago, when I was a 14-year-old kid discovering her love for fandom. ❤️

Today’s story is…

An Unlikely Team

American Dragon: Jake Long & Kim Possible

Summary: Monkey Fist and Huntsman have teamed up in order to defeat their respective foes. With Monkey Ninjas, goblins, dragons, nacos, spy gear, magic potion, secrets, regrets, and tears, no one is going to escape from this situation without changing somehow.

Rating: G

Chapters: 18 | Words: 12,353

Year Published: 2005 | My age: 14

Relationships: Jake Long/Rose | Huntsgirl | Characters: Jake Long, Ron Stoppable, Kim Possible, Monkey Fist, Huntsman, Rose | Huntsgirl, Lao Shi, Fu Dog

AO3 Tags: Crossover, Suspense, Humor

My reflections on and "review" of the story are after the break! :)

Oh, wow. It was an adventure coming back to this story! It marked a lot of firsts for me - my first crossover, my first story above 10k words, my first chapter fic. I don't remember a whole lot about my writing process back then, or about the circumstances of writing this story. I was 14, and a lot has happened since then. I do remember that I was still coming off the review-high from my first story, and that I had no idea what I was doing, not really. And it kind of shows.

I guess I should go ahead and say that this story, like the last one, isn't bad. I mean, the plot, if a bit simple and contrived, makes sense and moves along fairly well, and the characters (except for Rose, but we'll get to her in a minute) are pretty well portrayed, and grammatically, there were no glaring errors that I could see. It was interesting enough; it has been probably a decade or more since I last opened this story, but it still managed to hold my attention well enough, I suppose. It has some very positive reviews (and some critical ones), so I must have done something right.

But I've got to go over the issues with this story. Most of them I think are just hilarious. I'd been writing since I was five, but I was new to this kind of storytelling and still trying to find my voice as a writer. Once again, it shows.

Okay, so first, there's the plot itself - super simple, very contrived, and kind of weird. Huntsman and Monkey Fist team up so that M can help H capture and unmask the American Dragon, and in return, H will give M a talisman that will "undoubtedly" make him the Ultimate Monkey Master? Sure, seems legit, I guess.

Then there's the fact that I had to end every chapter - or nearly every chapter - with a cliffhanger, even if it didn't warrant one. I was dying laughing because most chapters would end with a character saying something hopeful to another character, but then muttering under their breath something grim and suspenseful. For example: "'Let us go. Jake's life is depending on us. He is alive for now...' and then he added almost inaudibly, 'but not for long...'" It's hilarious, and I wish I could remember if I was trying to be edgy or just ensure readers would come back, or if I thought being ominous was a hallmark of good writing. Also, the chapters were overall very short. I think I just wrote however much I felt like writing and then posted. Of course, I was having to post between school and the Boys & Girls Club where my mom worked (and being grounded, like a lot), so I guess I just wrote what and when I could.

Some of the dialogue's a bit clunky, and I had a weird thing with time limits. They capture Jake, and then they have to send Huntsgirl out to get a potion that will make him human because they forgot (???) this very important part of the plan for some reason. She says something along the lines of, "My Huntstick will transport me to the magical black market almost instantly. I'll be back within an hour." That doesn't add up, unless she's going to spend an hour haggling with the seller. Then she gets back, amps up the whole evil villain plot, and then adds, "Oh, yeah, it'll take 30 minutes for this potion to take effect." So she and the baddies just stand there for half an hour watching Jake slowly turn from dragon to human. Then when he's been poisoned (another weird plot contrivance), Lao Shi says, "If we don't give him the antidote in 30 seconds, he'll die!" I suppose I did set the scene, whether intentionally or not, by having a clock ticking in the background, but the way that all of the characters seem to have such an acute knowledge and understanding of time is just weird to me.

The only aspect of this story to actually bother me is the disservice I did to Rose's character. In the show, she's portrayed as a pretty strong protagonist-by-day/antagonist-by-night, but in my story, she's pitiful. I don't know if I just consumed a lot of media with weak female characters or what, but it's super cringey how emotional and weak she's portrayed as once she finds out the truth about Jake. She cries, which is fine, but then girlfriend just up and faints! She cries some more, begs Jake to forgive her, acting like she'll never be able to live with herself or forgive herself if he doesn't, then gets mad at him when he needs a little time to process that the girl he has a crush on is also the girl who's been trying to kill him. Then as soon as he apologizes for... being traumatized, I guess? she turns around and starts spouting off stuff about never being able to forgive herself if he'd died or something. I apologize most deeply to her character.

Oh, I just realized I haven't really discussed the Kim Possible side of things, mostly because it's pretty cut and dry. Those characters all seemed to be, well, in character. I especially feel I had Ron down to a T. It was also really funny the way I had Huntsman and Monkey Fist constantly arguing even through their alliance. The fight scenes, with Kim and with Jake, are very minimal. They're usually one step above just saying, "They fought." On that note, there's not a whole lot of detail or description, but a lot of dialogue. I definitely could have expanded more on the world to make the crossover feel more complete.

All that (mostly light-hearted) criticism aside, it was fun to get to go back and read this, and if you think you'd be interested, be my guest. It's a cute little read, and important to me because it marked the second step in my fan-fiction journey.

Next week, we'll be taking a look at one of the cringiest things I've ever written - yikes!

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thelightofthingshopedfor · 4 years

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Look, I loved up to IM3 Tony, but then you have Ultron Tony blithely creating a world ending AI, CW Tony feeling guilty enough about that to sign up to in universe untrustworthy authoritarian dictatorships, then blithely ignoring any protocols the second it didn't suit him. He can do what he wants because of a signature?! Then there's Edith, which is appalling even NOT in the hands of an actual child. I actually don't get how anyone defends Tony past CW tbh. I used to love the character.

yeah, I...like, I really don’t want to unnecessarily bash people’s faves--especially when said fave recently got killed off! that sucks and for obvious reasons I have a good sense of how much it sucks!--because I don’t want to be an asshole, and I don’t want to wade into fandom discourse because I literally never have the energy even to defend my faves from textually, canonically inaccurate criticism, let alone doing the opposite by straight-up criticizing other people’s faves (typically in defense of my faves, in fairness)

buuuuut

I also used to like Tony a lot. I loved pretty much everything about IM3. partly I cooled on the character because I started hanging around people who loved Steve, and then I also started loving Steve more, and then I started noticing that people who liked Tony tended to spend a lot of time talking about how much better he was than Steve--like, I remember one specific meta post discussing a particular IM3 scene and what it said about Tony, and it was all very positive and honestly pretty interesting, and like two reblogs down somebody had to turn it into “this is why Tony is the real leader of the Avengers and not Steve! because Steve wouldn’t do this and also he sucks!” at this point I tend to get uneasy if I see people praising or defending Tony, because it’s usually just a matter of time before they start shitting on Steve (or Wanda much more often lately, for obvious reasons) in the process.

but I feel like I would still have some issues with the way Tony was written regardless of how I felt about other characters? because the whole thing about EDITH is...uhhhh well it’s yikes, it’s just a big yikes all over really!! I ended up writing a very long post like a year and a half ago about some of my problems with Tony or at least my rebuttals to some dumb criticisms of Steve, most of which came down to frustration with Marvel’s writing decisions. and I was frustrated with a lot of other things, but the thing that really got to me was, yes, EDITH. because...a lot of the other stuff, I can at least understand why Tony did or thought certain things even if I don’t necessarily agree, but then I think about Far From Home and my head just sort of explodes because I can’t think of a justification for the whole situation that doesn’t boil down to either “Tony is extremely naive about the ways EDITH could be horrifically misused,” which is a terrible look on him and honestly doesn’t make sense with his established characterization, or “it’s just a fun superhero movie, lighten up, it’s not that deep and you’re not supposed to put that much thought into it” which might be true but certainly isn’t satisfying, especially if you’re looking for an in-universe explanation that doesn’t present every adult Good Guy in the movie as either evil or stupid. I mean--maybe there are better interpretations and I just haven’t thought of or seen any because I don’t spend a lot of time in the Tony fandom? but typically I can think of some way to make seemingly contradictory elements of canon make sense with each other if I give it some thought, and in this case I’ve got nothing.

#Anonymous #conversations #tony stark critical #tony stark negative #marvel cinematic universe #spider-man: far from home #meta #my meta #although it's really more...critical about Marvel's often-asinine writing decisions #because I actually prefer to like characters! and this doesn't make any fucking sense!

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khoicesbyk · 4 years

Text

Beloved.

A/N: I'm officially obsessed with Wolf Bride and what does one do when she's obsessed with a certain book? She writes an AU about it! 😁 So, Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*

Rated: Mature. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: Roman (LI) and Naia Evans (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and certain original characters, created by me) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 3,040 words. (more or less. I stop counting after editing and re-editing. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Song And Story Inspiration: On My Mind/Burn/Love Me Like You Do-Ellie Goulding | | | | | |

Tag List: @choiceslady @shewillreadyou @bebepac @queenjilian @txemrn @pixie88 @lucy-268 @hopefulmoonobject @choicesficwriterscreations

This series is rated Mature. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

This series may contain spoilers. If you wish not to see spoilers, please do not read any further.

(Also this series is a slight deviation of the original story. In the original story, the werewolf hunter is a woman. But in this series the hunter is a man.)

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here

Chapter 8.) Love Me Like You Do.

You're the light, you're the night. You're the color of my blood. You're the cure, you're the pain. You're the only thing I wanna touch. Never knew that it could mean so much, so much.

You're the fear, I don't care. 'Cause I've never been so high. Follow me through the dark. Let me take you past our satellites. You can see the world you brought to life, to life.

It had been a week since her first dream about Trent.

And Naia was sleeping in Roman’s arms, dreaming about Trent again. They were running through the woods together with reckless abandon. They were wolves. Bounding through the woods on all fours. And when Naia reached the edge of the woods she looked back to see if he was still behind her, but she saw nothing but darkness. She didn’t know where he was. She frantically looked around for him but he was gone. When she called out to him he never responded.

That’s when she woke up gasping for air and in a cold sweat. Something that hadn’t happened since coming to Hunt’s Peak. She had just sat up and was getting her head out of the fog it was in, when she felt Roman’s hand on her shoulder.

“Are you alright Beloved?” He asks.

“Huh? Yeah. I-I’m okay.” She replied trying to downplay how and what she was feeling.

“Your heart is racing. Are you sure that you’re okay?” He asked.

“Yes. It was just a nightmare. I promise I’ll be fine.” She replies.

Roman knew something was wrong but he decided not to press the issue.

“You should rest Beloved.”

“I will. No need to worry.”

She grabbed Gino from off the floor and snuggled him close as Roman’s arms wrapped around her.

“Not so tight!”

Roman raised his head.

“You’ll squish Gino.”

He groaned.

“I do not understand why you are so attached to that thing.”

“Well if you didn’t want me to have him…you shouldn’t have given him to me.”

She snickered as he rolled his eyes. She settled in his arms and was soon fast asleep.

So love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do.

Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do.

Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do.

What are you waiting for?

The next morning Naia was with Layla helping her with laundry for the Pack.

“Thank you so much for the help. It would’ve taken me hours to get all this done.” Layla told her.

“No problem. I’m surprised that the Pack believes in washing machines.”

“You do NOT want to know how hard it was or how long it took me to convince them.”

The two shared a laugh as they folded blankets. When Naia reached for one another blanket, Layla cautioned her.

“You might want to be careful with that one.”

“Why?” Naia asks.

“Because that one is Roman’s.” Layla replies.

“Ohhhhhh.”

“Yeah. He rarely lets me wash it.”

“Why? It’s just a blanket.”

“It was his mother’s. It never leaves the den unless he allows it.”

“He told me about her. Sounds like he really loved her.”

“Yeah he did and still does. Roman is the quintessential mama’s boy.”

Naia laughed.

“Just don’t tell him I said that.”

“Don’t worry. My lips are sealed.”

“Good. Because he’d be pretty pissed at me if he knew I said that about him.”

“Even if it’s true?” Naia asked.

“Especially because it’s true!” Layla replies.

The two shared another laugh.

“Tell me about his mother. All I know is that her name is Delia.”

Layla went quiet as she considered how to answer.

“Ms. Delia was a joy to be around. She was fair and stern and always loving. Even after she married and mated with Roman’s father, she continued on to be a school teacher. She cared for the Pack. Maybe even more than Xander ever did. She was as protective as she was funny. She’s one of the reasons why I’m loyal to them as well.”

“Did she welcome you?” Naia asks.

“Oh yeah. She welcomed anyone to the Pack. Even though some Pack members thought it was a mistake.” Layla replies.

“Why would they think that welcoming others is a mistake?” She asks.

“Because the Pack is an old guard. And many believe in its old and kinda outdated ways. Many of the werewolves, especially some of the elders only look at humans like us as a means to an end. But to some like Callum and Roman, humans are and always will be welcomed and loved. Just like Ms. Delia taught them.” Layla replies.

“How was she with Roman?” Naia asks.

“She loved Roman and his siblings. But, many whispered that she always favored him because he’s the oldest and her firstborn. She always knew how to tame her son. And when she died, it nearly killed him. He was closed off for a while. And as of late, he’s just been so absorbed in his role as Alpha.” Layla replied.

“I wish I had the chance to meet her.”

“She would’ve loved you.”

“You think so?” Naia asks.

“Yup. She was always a sweet woman. Even though she lived amongst the Pack.” Layla replies.

“What was his father like?” She asked.

“When you think of Xander, think of an older, stuffier and scarier version of Roman.” Layla replies.

“Yikes! Yikes! And triple yikes!”

“Yeah…compared to his father and especially how he ran the Pack, Roman is an angel.”

“Sheesh! I’m kinda sorry I asked. “

Once they were finished with the laundry, they stopped by the furniture store to pick up a few things for the den. Then went to the local boutique for themselves.

“I love this boutique so much. I just wish I could fit in the clothes.” Layla said in a wistful tone.

“I’m sure they’ve got something in here for you.”

“You see this?” Layla asks, pointing to her very pregnant belly. “Ain’t nothing in here fitting all of this.”

Naia rolled her eyes and chuckled.

“Buuuuuuut that doesn’t mean that we can’t find something for you.”

“You just want to live vicariously through me, don’t you?” Naia asked.

“Maaaaaaaybe.” Layla replied innocently.

“Uh huh…”

After picking out a few outfits that she really liked, Naia turned her attention to the lingerie in the boutique. Using Layla’s critical eye, she narrowed her choices down to two colors red and purple.

“Well you can’t go wrong with red. It’s a classic color for a reason. But then again I really like the purple one.”

Naia tried on both and showed Layla.

“Well damn Miss America! Who knew you could twirl like that?” She teased.

Naia rolled her eyes good naturedly.

“So…which one should I get?” Naia asked her.

“Split the difference and get both. Especially if you want to make Roman drool.” Layla replied.

“Oh no honey! Never buy lingerie for a man. Always do it for yourself. But you are right I think I’m gonna get both.”

“Of course I’m right! Now go pay for them so we can go get some food. We’re starving!”

After paying for her new clothes and getting food, Naia and Layla were back at the den rearranging and organizing the kitchen. With the Pack out on a hunt, Naia took the initiative to freshen the room she was given. She figured she’d deal with Roman and his opinion later. She had just finished redecorating the bedroom when he walked in.

“What did you do?” He asks.

“Made this more of a bedroom and less of a cold, sterile cave with a bed in it.” She replies.

He gives her a lopsided look.

“What? Gino likes it.”

“Gino can’t speak.”

“He still likes it.”

“Gino is a toy.”

“Well I say he likes it!” She huffed.

He shakes his head and smirks at her. She could feel his victory through their bond.

“How was the hunt?” She asked after clearing her throat.

“It was highly successful. How was your day in town?” He asks.

“Good. We got the laundry done and did a little shopping. Well I shopped, Layla watched.” She replies.

“What did you buy?” He asks.

“A little gift for myself.” She replies.

He raises an expectant eyebrow.

“If you must know, I bought lingerie.”

“Hmmmm I see.”

She watched Roman as he took a look at what she had done around the room. When his eyes fell on his mother’s blanket laying on the bed, his gaze softened. He sat down and held the blanket in his hands. She sat down next to him.

“Layla told me that it was your mother’s.”

“It was. She made it herself.”

“She was a quilter?” She asks.

“Yes. She was also a school teacher.” He replies.

“Layla told me that.”

“What else did Layla tell you?” He asks.

“That you really loved her and that you miss her.” She replies.

“She’s right. Mother was an angel. There isn’t a day where I don’t miss her.”

“I’m sure she’s proud of you Roman. Wherever she is.”

He smiled softly at her.

“Gino was right. What you’ve done is…nice.”

She chuckled softly before laying her head on his shoulder.

“If you don’t like it, I can always change it.”

“No. I want this to be as much of a home for you as possible. And if changing things around and adding things does that for you, I won’t protest.”

Fading in, fading out. On the edge of paradise. Every inch of your skin is a holy grail I've got to find. Only you can set my heart on fire, on fire. Yeah, I'll let you set the pace. 'Cause I'm not thinking straight. My head's spinning around I can't see clear no more. What are you waiting for?

Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (like you do) Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do What are you waiting for?

She felt their bond swell as they sat together. She secretly loved seeing him be vulnerable with her. After a few moments, he put the blanket down.

“Will you come with me?” He asks her. “There’s something I want to show you.”

“Sure. Where are we going?” She replies.

“You’ll see.”

He led her along the north side of the woods towards a field.

“I don’t see anything.”

“Just watch Beloved.”

Beside her Roman had transformed into his wolf form. After hearing him let out a commanding and slightly startling howl, she watched as a pack of actual wolves came through the tall grass. She counted at least 7 adult wolves as Roman changed back into his human form.

As they approached she hid behind Roman.

“Yipe!”

“They won’t harm you Beloved.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not take the chance of finding out.”

She watched him as he knelt down to greet the Alpha of the pack. The wolves greeted him like they were greeting an old friend. Roman nodded to the alpha to meet Naia.

“I promise you, you’re safe Beloved. Come meet Kuvo.”

Naia knelt beside him and held out her palm for Kuvo to sniff. After sniffing her palm, Kuvo walked around sniffing the rest of her before headbutting her shoulder affectionately.

“Hi Kuvo.” She said as he nuzzled her. Kuvo looked to his pack then the adults took off. Leaving the pups behind.

“Where are they going?” She asks.

“To hunt.” He replies.

“So we’re babysitting?”

“Yes. I thought you’d like to see what Gino would look like if he was real.”

“Look at you. Jealous of a toy.”

He rolled his eyes as they walked to where the pups were playing. As they got closer the pups ran to Roman, nearly tackling him when he sat down.

“You’re covered in pups. You know that right?” She said as she snickered. She sat down close to him and one of the smaller pups ran up to her.

“Hi there little one! You are absolutely adorable.” She said as she nuzzled the pup in her arms. She rubbed behind the pup’s ears as she watched the other pups climb all over Roman.

“You look natural Beloved.”

She blushed.

“Thank you.”

He nodded to the pups and they went from climbing all over him to swarming Naia.

He watched as she giggled and pups yipped.

“Oh my God! I should’ve been born an octopus because I clearly don’t have enough arms!” She said as she giggled and tried to pet and pick up as many pups as she could. When she finally got up and tried to walk away, the pups followed behind her.

“I feel like a mother!” She giggled.

“You look like one.”

Just then an adult wolf came out of the field. The pups ran straight to the wolf and led the wolf to them.

“Who’s that?” She asks.

“That’s their mother, Oma.” He replied.

He knelt in front of her then allowed her to nuzzle and lick him. When Oma turned to Naia, she was holding one of the pups. Oma cautiously walked towards Naia, who had her hand stretched out to her. Oma sniffed her hand then licked her palm. While the pup ran off to play with its siblings, Oma laid down next to Naia with her head in her lap.

“Hello Oma. Your pups are the cutest little things.” She said to Oma as they watched the pups play. She rubbed behind Oma’s ears Roman sat down on the other side of Oma.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why did you bring me here?” She asks.

“Because I wanted you to see why I protect these lands. These wolves are some of the most endangered in the country. And not just from SEP but poachers as well. It is my duty to protect them. And it’s getting increasingly difficult to do so.” He replies.

“Why is that?” She asks.

“Because if SEP gets their hands on this land, they’ll tear it all down to build mines. Which will drive Kuvo and his pack further away from here and right into the hands of poachers.” He replies. His tone hid a calm fury.

“They’d turn all of this into mines? What kind of mines?” She asks.

“Coal.” He replies.

Naia shuddered at his words.

“I hope you see why I must fight against these evils. I am Alpha. It is my job to protect and defend.”

“I do understand why you fight so hard.”

“I hope you will be at my side as I fight for this land.”

“As your mate you mean.”

Roman smirked.

“Yes. I would love for you to be my mate. But only if you want to be.”

Naia snuggled Oma as she considered his words. In the distance a howl was heard and returned by Oma and the pups.

“What’s going on?” She asks.

“It’s Kuvo. The hunt is over and was a success.” He replies as he looks out to the distance. Oma rises and goes with the pups to meet Kuvo and the other wolves. They watched as the wolves shared the kill.

“That’s a huge deer!” She exclaimed.

“Indeed. This is what it means to be an alpha. Kuvo excels at his duty as alpha.”

“So do you. Don’t ever forget that.”

Roman smiled softly at her. He noticed that she was shivering.

“Are you cold?” He asks.

“Just a little bit.” She whispered.

She felt his arms wrap around her. He was trying to use his body heat to keep her warm.

“Thank you Roman. I feel better.”

“Good. Now come. It’s getting late and you should rest.”

“But I’m not—“ she said before letting out a giant yawn.

“You were saying?” He teased.

She huffed then smirked.

“I do miss Gino. He’s probably lonely without me.”

“Yes…I’m sure that a toy is very lonely.”

She snickered as they began to walk back to the den. As she crawled into bed, she saw Roman getting ready to leave.

“You’re leaving?” She asked.

“Yes. Do not worry I will be back.” He told her.

She felt her heart start to ache. She didn’t want to be away from him.

“Don’t go.”

“I must Beloved.”

“Stay with me.”

He sat across from her as she clung to Gino.

“Beloved…”

“Roman please…”

He could feel her yearning for him. To soothe her ache, he kissed her. She needed him. She was desperate for him. Her body wanted him. As the kiss deepened, she pulled him on top of her. Their limbs tangled with each other as the kiss intensified.

Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (like you do) Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (yeah) Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do What are you waiting for?

I'll let you set the pace. 'Cause I'm not thinking straight. My head's spinning around I can't see clear no more. What are you waiting for?

Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (like you do). Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (yeah). Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do. What are you waiting for? Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (like you do). Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (oh). Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do What are you waiting for?

Roman had to force himself to stop kissing her.

“As much as I hate to stop, I must.”

“Okay…” she pouted.

“Get some rest Beloved. I will see you when you wake up.”

With a kiss to her forehead, Roman left and Naia was soon fast asleep.

She was soon dreaming again. She was dreaming about Trent again. She was dreaming about being in his arms. And being with him. She felt her heart tell her that Trent is her mate, the same way Roman is her mate. And when she woke up, she needed to know why. So she made it her mission to figure out what was going on with her heart.

#choices #pixelberry #choices stories you play #khoicesbyk #choices fanfiction #fanfic #wolf bride #alpha wolf

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drawlfoy · 5 years

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requests are open as usualllll

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

request: yes! i’m combining 2 slytherin!reader requests because they’re rather similar and i feel weird putting two nearly identical ones out, but i swear the storylines aren’t altered.

summary: draco has a teasing relationship with the reader--they playfully argue and go back and forth but never acknowledge the fact that there may be something more. draco notices her pulling back and becoming more reserved. he follows her out of the dining hall one day to find her having a breakdown over a dark secret.

warnings: breakdown (and not the dancing kind), if the summary didn’t already explain that. swearing and potentially suggestive argumentation. also ooc draco and i say “fuck you” to canon in this one

a/n: this is the first time i’m merged two requests together, so i’m feeling a little wacky but i hope it turns out to what you guys wanted! i’m so so lucky to have readers. i’d love any comments that you may have on my work, even if they’re constructive criticism!

music recs: peach pit is what comes to mind but i’m listening to scary stories as i write this lol because i live on the edgeeeeeee

word count: 2,924

Y/N was an organized girl, no doubt about it. So organized, in fact, that she never lost anything, and she most certainly never lost track of her wand.

So when she noticed in Charms that her wand was not stowed away in her cloak pocket, she immediately knew who did it.

Without even as much as a hello, Y/N strode over to her “friend” and fellow house member Draco Malfoy and shoved her hand into his pocket, wiggling it around.

“At least buy me dinner first.” Draco had started at the sudden sensation, but once he smelled the perfume of the witch behind him, he knew exactly who it was, not bothering to give her much of a reaction.

Y/N fished around his pockets for a bit before grabbing his shoulder and yanking him around.

“Where is my wand, Draco? I know you have it.”

He smirked evilly down at her, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart.”

“Yes, you do!” She pulled him towards her by his green and silver tie, trying to look as menacing as possible. “I swear to god, Draco, I’m gonna hex you into oblivion if you don’t give it back.”

“With what wand?” He laughed. “And let’s be real here, Y/N, you wouldn’t anyways. You love me too much.”

Y/N’s cheeks grew red at the suggestion.

“As if, Draco! Give me my wand back, or I’ll throttle you with my bare hands!”

“Ooh, kinky.”

She let go of his tie, shoving him away. Who was he to suggest these things to her? He’d never been interested as long as she could remember--no matter how many subtle hints she’d dropped, he remained oblivious, instead choosing Pansy’s incessant fawning.

Pretending like it didn’t hurt when he was ignoring her was easy. Pretending it didn’t hurt when he was inches away from her face and fake flirting with her was a whole other deal.

“Give me my wand, you git,” she commanded, holding her hand out. Perhaps if she was animated with her hands, he wouldn’t notice her blush.

Draco raised an eyebrow, one side of his lip rising along with it.

“Ask nicely.”

“May I please have my wand back?” she spat, each word filling her mouth with venom.

“We could work on your tone a tad, but I guess I might as well,” he responded, nonchalant and ignorant of the searing look she sent him. Digging through his satchel, he retrieved her wand, pressing it into her hand.

Y/N sent him a syrupy sweet smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. In the corner of her vision, she could see Pansy watching her with a sour look on her face.

She was never one to disappoint an audience.

“Thank you, Draco,” she cooed, taking a complete 180 from her previous demeanor. Throwing all caution to the wind, she stood up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

When she settled back down to her usual height, she noticed that his eyebrow was still arched, but his evil look was replaced with one of inquisitiveness.

“I knew you were in love with me,” he crooned.

“No, I’m just a big fan of charity work,” she shot back, spinning around and walking back to her desk.

It was, after all, just another Tuesday.

♥♥♥♥

“Are you still hopelessly obsessed with Draco?”

“Huh?” Y/N diverting her attention from her studies to what her roommate, Millicent, had just asked her. “Sorry, I was deep in a passage and didn’t catch that.”

Millicent rolled her eyes, crossing her legs on her bed.

“I asked, are you still into Draco? I remember you talking about him in 4th year when we were getting dates for the Yule Ball arranged.”

“Oh.” Y/N let her eyes fall back onto her textbook. “I don’t know, Mills. I think he’s kind of an arse. He totally knew that I was into him and asked Pansy instead.”

Millicent chuckled sourly at that.

“Yeah, he was kind of immature back then,” she offered, resting her chin in her hand. “But, I don’t know, don’t you think that you guys have chemistry?”

Y/N thought for a few moments.

“I can’t say,” she responded. “But chemistry doesn’t really mean anything if they don’t care about you, you know? I think he messes with me just so he can feel like I’m still on the hook.”

“How do you know that?”

“How do I know that he’s just using me?” Y/N rolled her quill over in her hands a few times. “I can’t say for sure, but I’m normally good at reading these situations and I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“So you’re saying that you do have hopes that he’s interested?” Y/N didn’t have to turn to know that her roommate was plotting.

“I’m saying that I really don’t have time to be worrying about it right now,” Y/N opined.

Before she knew it, a hand was taking her quill out of her hand and closing her textbook.

“Hey! You can’t--”

“It’s been too long, Y/N,” Millicent whined. “We need to have a good gossip, and now that midterms are over, we can catch up. Please?”

Y/N couldn’t help a smile from creeping into her stony expression. While she had had reservations about her roommate at first, she soon learned that they brought the best out in each other.

“Okay, okay, but I’m not making any rash decisions, alright?”

“And when would I ever let you do that anyways?”

They both erupted in giggles while Y/N allowed her friend to pull her onto the bed.

“So, for starters,” Millicent began. “I heard that Draco and Pansy are going through a rough patch right now.”

“And who did you hear that from?”

“Irrelevant. But if you care, Blaise, and Theo confirmed it as well. And I would’ve found out without their help...they’re acting weird. Pansy looks like she’s ready to slit his throat at a moment’s notice, if you haven’t been paying any attention for the past 4 hours.”

Y/N laughed nervously. Of course she had noticed...but she didn’t want anyone to realize how much she actually cared.

“Yikes, I hope they figure that out. Their parents are going to be mad if they break up, right?”

“No, probably not. His parents really want him to end up with a Greengrass...something about settling a deal from a few generations ago.”

“Oh.” Y/N swallowed any other hope that she had left. “That sucks for Pansy. I know how much she likes him.”

Millicent paused for a moment, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been feeling bad as well,” she said, her tone softening. “I’ve noticed the pain in your eyes whenever you see them together.”

“And it doesn’t help when he seeks me out to mess with me!” Y/N exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “I try so, so hard to forget about him and pretend like he doesn’t matter to me, but he finds all of these ways to keep butting back into my life and it always works...”

Her roommate began rubbing her back, allowing the few tears being shed to fall in peace.

“You’re worth so much, Y/N,” she told her firmly. “And unless I’m wrong, which we know is impossible, I think he kind of likes you too.”

“I don’t think you understand, though,” Y/N whispered. “Why would I ever want to be with someone who thinks of me as a second choice?”

Millicent was silent for a few breaths.

“Yeah. Maybe his parents pushed him to date her, though? Maybe he has a good excuse?”

“I don’t know, Mills. I’m just not going to think about it anymore, alright?”

♥♥♥♥

Draco was sitting across the breakfast table from Y/N, watching her sip her tea, waiting for the moment to throw another comment her way.

The screech of owls interrupted his thought process, signaling that the morning post had arrived. A snowy owl landed gracefully next to Y/N’s plate, bearing a letter with a red wax seal on the back.

She shook herself out of her daydreams--she had been up late the night before cramming for an exam and had burnt through an entire candle. Stroking her owl, she whispered a genuine thank you and instructed it to fly on home.

Y/N picked up the letter, fingering the parchment. It was clearly from her parents--the wax seal bore the mark of her family’s crest. Confused, she ripped open the envelope and began skimming the letter.

Oh, no. Oh, no.

Her vision began to blur as she folded the parchment up, shoving it back into her pocket.

“Hey Y/N, what’s going--”

Before Draco could finish his sentence, she was already halfway down the aisle, moving quickly to the exit. He watched her go, wishing that he could follow but knowing that it wasn’t a good idea with the tension regarding Pansy.

It was high time to break up with her anyways--no reason to keep up appearances when he didn’t desire her.

♥♥♥♥

As the week went by, Draco noticed more and more changes in Y/N’s demeanor. She was eating less and spacing out more. Her skirt was wrinkled on Friday, something that rarely ever happened, and she was no longer sending him bitter remarks in response to his flirty ones. On Saturday, she stayed in her dorm instead of joining her friends for a day in Hogsmeade, something he had never seen her miss before.

Something was clearly wrong with Y/N, and for some reason, this twisted something in his chest more than breaking up with Pansy did. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her messing around in the common room, either. It was unnerving, really. The witch had no business worrying him like that.

So, when he passed by her during a free period and saw her walking ahead of him, he made the executive decision to finally do something.

“Y/N!” he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound. “Y/N, wait!”

She halted, turning around slowly. When she saw who had called her name, she stiffened and made to continue on her path.

Draco, anticipating such a reaction, had already begun to jog towards her, lightly pushing past the rest of the students going the same direction.

“Y/N! Please, I need to talk to you!”

She picked up the pace, but Draco’s long legs caught up to her as he slipped a hand into the crook of her arm, startling her.

“What do you wa--”

“Can I please talk to you? It’ll just take a second. I promise.”

Her expression was unreadable, but he could tell that she was considering her options.

“Fine,” she finally said. “What is it?”

“Not here,” Draco quickly said. “Somewhere private. The common room, maybe?”

“If you wanted to off me, I doubt anyone would notice if you did it right here,” Y/N said, waving her hand dismissively. “But if you would really like to talk there, then I guess I’ll comply.”

Without another word, Draco led her down to the dungeons, keeping his hand tucked in her arm, not trusting her to stick by him. It felt strange--normally he was the one holding his arm out, but then again, this entire situation was out of character for him.

Once they had reached the common room, Draco waved his wand and lit the fire, sitting down in front of the couch to watch the green flames lick the stone.

“Sit,” he instructed, patting the space on the couch next to him.

Surprisingly, Y/N did as she was told, folding her legs up on the couch and sending Draco a death stare.

“Get on with it.”

“I just...I wanted to make sure that you were alright,” Draco faltered. Playing therapist was not something he had experience with. “I’ve noticed you acting strange since you got that letter at breakfast and it’s making me worry. Can you just tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it and we can be normal again?”

Y/N was silent for a while.

“You can’t fix this. Not this time. I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean I can’t? Just tell me, Y/N, please.”

Silence again...except for something else. Draco stole a glance at Y/N and was stunned to see the firelight illuminate tears rolling down her face.

“Oh, no, Y/N, what’s wrong?”

The question only made her gasps for air louder as Y/N curled herself into a ball.

“I’m sorry,” she managed. “You should go. You can come back later when I’m calmer, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Draco murmured, bringing up a hand to steady her shoulder. “Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll make it better, alright?”

“My parents are forcing me into an arranged marriage,” she whispered, hugging her knees to her chest. “He goes to Durmstrang. I hate him. They offered my hand in marriage because they want his father to be more amiable to mine in this business deal, and since I’ve never been in a relationship, they think it’s the only chance I have anyways at finding a life partner.”

The sobs had stopped. Her tears fell silently now, staining the whites of her sleeves.

Draco himself had to process the information. Y/N, married to someone else? No, he never could’ve imagined that.

Without anything particularly useful to say, Draco just opened his arms.

“C’mere,” he awkwardly mumbled.

Y/N studied him for a few seconds.

“I’m going to get snot on your shirt.”

“I don’t care.”

With that settled, Y/N released her knees from her hold, instead crawling into his lap. He stroked her hair as she wept into his shirt and clung to him.

Oh, how this was embarrassing for her. She supposed that there was a reason why her parents were so desperate to accept an offer for her hand.

Draco suddenly stopped, moving his hands to tap her shoulder.

“Y/N,” he began, “Would they make you marry him if you were already in a relationship?”

She sat up, blowing her nose into her handkerchief before answering.

“No, probably not. Why?”

“Well...” He pondered for a second, wondering if he was really going to be brave enough to say what he wanted to. “What if I was in the picture? They wouldn’t care to pass you off to some random Durmstrang boy if you had a Malfoy instead, right?”

Y/N stared at him.

“Er... probably not. That’s nice wishful thinking there, Draco.”

“I’m being serious!” He wasn’t expecting it to go this direction.

“How do I know that you’re not joking?” she queried, scootching further away from him and trying to ignore the pain that flashed across his eyes.

“I let you cry all over my dress shirt,” he reminded her, motioning to the stains on his chest. “Do you think I’d do that for any girl?”

Y/N just shrugged, hiccuping once before she stuffed her handkerchief back into her pocket.

“I wouldn’t.” Draco answered his own question, reaching up to gingerly brush her hair out of her eyes. “I know it must be weird seeing me with Pansy.”

“Yeah, no shit,” she mumbled. “I didn’t even think about that. My disbelief was due to the fact that you’ve never been interested.”

Draco flinched.

“I don’t think you’re completely right there,” he said, his hand pausing to cup her face.

“Are you forgetting the Yule Ball ordeal? How you knew how much I liked you but you still went with Pansy instead?”

“You don’t understand,” he responded hastily. “I didn’t know--I was 14 and an idiot. I couldn’t tell if you liked me or not and I knew that she did, so I wasn’t afraid.”

“And so you dated her for another 2 years?” Y/N answered in disbelief, seemingly forgetting the fact that she had just been crying her eyes out.

“At first it was to make you jealous,” Draco explained. “But then Pansy’s parents began to expect a lot out of us, and I was waiting for the right time to break it off, and it just didn’t....ever come around.”

Draco jumped as Y/N smacked his shoulder.

“You’re an idiot,” she snapped.

“I know.” Draco gulped. “And I’m sorry about that, Y/N, I really am. Let me make it up to you. Owl your parents and tell them that you had forgotten to mention that you’re already in a serious relationship with me.”

He curled an arm around her waist, highlighting the fact that while she wasn’t lying on his chest, she was still nestled into him.

“Under one condition,” Y/N told him, an elvish glint in her eyes.

“Yes?” He reached up his free hand to boop the tip of her nose.

“What was that?!” Y/N jerked her face away from his.

Draco smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that. You were saying?”

Her mouth was parted slightly in confusion as her brain tried to recall what she was about to say.

“I--just don’t be a pill, Draco, alright?”

“C’mon now, when have I ever been one?” He smirked down at her, wearing the expression that he adopted whenever they teased each other in class.

Y/N was trying her hardest to stay composed, but a genuine smile fought its way onto her face. It only widened when Draco leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead.

Pulling away, he uttered the words that would lead to her lightly smacking him on the shoulder again:

“I told you I could fix it.”

final a/n: kindaaaaaaa mad that i took on this request at this point because i totally could’ve turned this into a series where the reader and draco don’t admit feelings this early and instead decide to “fake date” so both parents would be happy but i have a lifeeeee grossssss

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