#and the whole dragons living so long that the past is still ever present in their minds

[impossible-rat-babies]

i miss heavensward ;—;

[blueteller]

have not finished the novel but can you please spoil if the family of original cale knows cale isn't the real one? and did krs!cale tell anyone he transmigrated?

Good question! If you don't mind getting SPOILERS, I'm happy to answer!

In short, no, the Henituse family members don't find out, at least not in Part 1 (as Part 2 is still in progress).

I also do not get the feeling that they ever will, because when Cale meets OG Cale, who now goes by Kim Rok Soo himself, he's encouraged to embrace the identity of Cale Henituse the same way OG Cale had fully embraced his new identity in Korea.

Cale's old team on Earth 1 noticed that their "Team Leader" had become different, but he also seems happier and adopted a daughter (his reincarnated mom), so they don't mind the change and are actually glad for him. Which is the perfect reflection of how the Henituse family reacted when Cale "finally" stopped being "trash", because both Cale and OG Cale were not happy before the transmigration swap and everybody could see it. So them changing so suddenly was seen as them "dropping their mask", so to speak – which is funny because that's exactly what happened. Both of them let go of the burdens of their past lives to fully enjoy their new ones. Everybody involved is all the better for it (the only thing the God of Death ever done right, lol).

But here's the interesting bit. While the Henituses never find out, there are other characters who do.

First comes Choi Han, who practically speaking got "spoiled" by the God of Death himself. He gets the memories of his relative Choi Jung Soo, Cale's long dead best friend. Seeing KRS in those memories Choi Han easily puts the two and two together, as Cale never really changed personality-wise from his old life (especially his desire for slacker life, hahaha!).

Immediately after Choi Han finds out, Cale tells Raon as well, as he was present while everything was going down and the curious Dragon wanted to understand. Cale's explanation of his transmigration to Raon was extremely short, but very sweet.

Third, there was Alberu, who found out during the Sealed God's Test – which is a whole huge plotline which is too complicated to explain in detail right now, so keep things short, Cale was put into his old 20-year-old body to re-experience his biggest trauma, and both Choi Han and Alberu got to join him there to help him out. Alberu did not recognize Cale immediately, but he saw him using his Ancient Powers, so he put it together quickly as well.

Then followed one of the most hilarious yet heartwarming exchanges between the two, as Alberu realized that whatever was going on put Cale in a very vunerable position, so he sincerely offered to hear him out. Then Cale, with his usual subtlety of a rampaging elephant, info dumps about his and Choi Han's dimension travellers status. Alberu's reaction is one of the funniest moments in the book for me.

Shortly after, there was Lee Soo Hyuk in the Sealed God's Test, Cale's old Team Leader, whom Cale decided to tell the truth before he went back to the fantasy world; as it turned out that there was a younger KRS inside the same body all along, and he wanted someone to know the truth why he was acting differently all of a sudden.

So Choi Han, Raon, Alberu and Lee Soo Hyuk from Earth 2 were the characters who found out about Cale's transmigration (and also the KRS from Earth 2, but I'm not sure if we count him....? Let's say he counts). But I said earlier, Part 2 is still ongoing... And it looks like Ron and Beacrox Molan will found out soon.

Why? Because they joined in on one of Cale's dimension trips, and with Cale changing his appearance accordingly, they seem to be finally putting it together why Cale's personality suddenly changed overnight 2 years ago. They've seen enough clues, and they're not stupid. The conversation about it seems to be put on hold right now, however, but I'm pretty sure it's going to happen sooner or later.

If things happens as I predict, then that will be full 7 characters (aside from OG Cale, Earth 1's CJS & LSH, and various gods) who know about Cale. Seeing as Cale is allergic to explanations, I doubt anyone else will found out any time soon, lol.

I hope this helps!

[richincolor]

New Releases - Tuesday, May 14, 2024

We missed one title last week, so we wanted to make sure to highlight it this week.

Perfect Little Monsters by Cindy X.R. He Sourcebooks Fire

Someone has murdered the queen bee of Sierton High School. All the dead girl’s friends are suspects. And each one has a reason for wanting her dead.

Ella Moore was the most popular girl in school…and also the most hated. When she’s murdered at her own party, there are too many suspects to count--and too many people who think she deserved it. The police’s prime suspect is the new girl, Dawn Foster. She was the last to hand Ella a drink on the night Ella died. Plus, all of Ella’s friends with a motive for wanting her dead are more than willing to implicate Dawn.

But Dawn refuses to go down without a fight. She’s determined to clear her name. As she delves deeper into the past, she discovers that Ella and her friends had enemies, and someone is out for revenge. She must uncover the truth before the police arrest the wrong suspect and before the next person dies.

Now on to the many books for this week:

Blood & Fury (Chaos & Flame #2) by Tessa Gratton and Justina Ireland Razorbill

A single kiss set Chaos ablaze.

Picking up months after betrayal transformed Darling Seabreak into the long-lost Phoenix and every House regent into their empyreal form, Darling struggles to make sense of her destiny as a legendary creature. How can she, an orphan with no family, be the one to reunite the fractured houses and bring about peace, if she can’t control the magic of her new Phoenix body?

Talon Goldhoard, still in love with Darling but wounded by her betrayal, is tasked with ending the vicious war that his family instigated. With the Phoenix reborn, Talon is hopeful that the bloodshed will end swiftly. Instead, the kingdom grows more fraught, with the threat of violence ever present – especially from dark, conniving forces within the walls of his own House Dragon.

As Chaos reigns, Talon and Darling must find their way back to each other – not only to survive but to save the kingdom. Can Darling harness the power of the ancient magic that runs through her blood to bring about a new peace? Or will the fury that House Dragon fueled for a hundred-year war be too strong to break?

A Crane Among Wolves by June Hur Feiwel & Friends

Hope is dangerous. Love is deadly.

1506, Joseon. The people suffer under the cruel reign of the tyrant King Yeonsan, powerless to stop him from commandeering their land for his recreational use, banning and burning books, and kidnapping and horrifically abusing women and girls as his personal playthings.

Seventeen-year-old Iseul has lived a sheltered, privileged life despite the kingdom’s turmoil. When her older sister, Suyeon, becomes the king’s latest prey, Iseul leaves the relative safety of her village, traveling through forbidden territory to reach the capital in hopes of stealing her sister back. But she soon discovers the king’s power is absolute, and to challenge his rule is to court certain death.

Prince Daehyun has lived his whole life in the terrifying shadow of his despicable half-brother, the king. Forced to watch King Yeonsan flaunt his predation through executions and rampant abuse of the common folk, Daehyun aches to find a way to dethrone his half-brother once and for all. When staging a coup, failure is fatal, and he’ll need help to pull it off—but there’s no way to know who he can trust.

When Iseul’s and Daehyun’s fates collide, their contempt for each other is transcended only by their mutual hate for the king. Armed with Iseul’s family connections and Daehyun’s royal access, they reluctantly join forces to launch the riskiest gamble the kingdom has ever

Save her sister. Free the people. Destroy a tyrant.

It Waits in the Forest by Sarah Dass Rick Riordan Presents

Unlike the other residents of the small Caribbean Island of St. Virgil, Selina DaSilva does not believe in magic. With a logical mind and a knack for botany, Selina used to dream of leaving the island to study Pharmacology—until a vicious, unsolved attack left her father dead and her mother in a coma.

Now her guilt over her mother’s condition keeps her tethered to the island, relegated to conning gullible tourists with useless talismans and phony protection rituals. But when one of those tourists ends up at the center of a string of strange murders, the truth that Selina has been denying can no longer be there is evil lurking in the forests that surround St. Virgil. Another thing that can’t be avoided? Selina’s ex-boyfriend Gabriel, newly employed at the local newspaper and eager to put his investigative skills to use.

Desperate to put an end to the killings and claim justice for Selina’s family, these two former lovers race to find answers. But evil bides its time. And as long-buried feelings and long-hidden secrets about Selina’s family’s past begin to reveal themselves, only one answer remains—and it waits in the forest.

Thirsty by Jas Hammonds Roaring Brook Press

It’s the summer before college and eighteen-year-old Blake Brenner and her girlfriend, Ella, have one goal: join the mysterious and exclusive Serena Society. The sorority promises status and lifelong connections to a network of powerful, trailblazing women of color. Ella’s acceptance is a sure thing—she’s the daughter of a Serena alum. Blake, however, has a lot more to prove.

As a former loner from a working-class background, Blake lacks Ella’s pedigree and confidence. Luckily, she finds courage at the bottom of a liquor bottle. When she drinks, she’s bold, funny, and unstoppable—and the Serenas love it. But as pledging intensifies, so does Blake’s drinking, until it’s seeping into every corner of her life. Ella assures Blake that she’s fine; partying hard is what it takes to make the cut.

But success has never felt so much like drowning. With her future hanging in the balance and her past dragging her down, Blake must decide how far she’s willing to go to achieve her glittering dreams of success—and how much of herself she’s willing to lose in the process.

10 Things I Hate About Prom by Elle Gonzalez Rose Joy Revolution

The best things in life come in pairs. Peanut butter has jelly, Taylor has Selena, and Ivelisse Santos has Joaquin Romero. They are not only next-door neighbors; they’re platonic soulmates. Ive gets Quin like no one else.

At least, she thought she did before Joaquin shocks her by revealing that he wants to ask Tessa Gordon to prom. Tessa freaking Gordon. The same Tessa Gordon who spread the rumor that Ivelisse started the infamous Second Grade Lice Outbreak. Why her?

Tessa and Joaquin are a match made in popular kid heaven. The head cheerleader and the star of the baseball team going to prom together makes more sense than Joaquin and Ivelisse—a member of tech crew—would. But just because it makes sense doesn’t mean it should happen.

To make matters worse, Joaquin wants Ivelisse’s assistance planning the grandest, most elaborate promposal Cordero High has ever seen. To win the queen bee over, he’ll have to go bigger than any of their peers have ever gone. Ivelisse would rather wrestle a bear than wingwoman Joaquin.

But with senior year coming to an end and their paths diverging, she’ll take all the quality time with Joaquin she can get. So, she swallows her pride. At first.

True Love and Other Impossible Odds by Christina Li Quill Tree Books

College freshman Grace Tang never meant to rewrite the rules of love. She came to college to move on from a grief-stricken senior year and to start anew. So she follows a predictable Attend class, study, go home and visit her dad every weekend. She doesn’t leave any room in her life for outliers or anomalies.

Then, Grace comes up with an algorithm for her statistics class to pair students with their perfect romantic partners. Though some people are skeptical, like Julia, Grace’s prickly coworker, Grace is confident that her program will take all the drama out of relationships. That’s why she keeps trying to make things work with her match, a guy named Jamie. But as the semester goes on and she grows closer to Julia, Grace starts to question who she’s really attracted to.

In award-winning author Christina Li’s YA debut, Grace will have to make a choice between the tidy equations she knows will protect her from heartbreak or the possibility that true love doesn’t follow any formula.

Road Home by Rex Ogle Norton Young Readers

This final, essential chapter in Rex Ogle’s memoir trilogy recounts being forced from his home and living on the streets after his conservative father discovered he was gay.

When Rex was outed the summer after he graduated high school, his father gave him a choice: he could stay at home, find a girlfriend, and attend church twice a week, or he could be gay―and leave. Rex left, driving toward the only other gay man he knew and a toxic relationship that would ultimately leave him homeless and desperate on the streets of New Orleans. Here, Rex tells the story of his coming out and his father’s rejection of his identity, navigating abuse and survival on the streets.

Road Home is a devastating and incandescent reflection on Rex’s hunger―for food, for love, and for a place to call home―completing the trilogy of memoirs that began with the award-winning Free Lunch.

The Dangerous Ones by Lauren Blackwood Wednesday Books

1863, Pennsylvania

War doesn’t scare Jerusalem—she’s a Saint. Thanks to powerful demigod-style reflexes, endurance, and strength, she’s fearless. And ever since the Confederates declared civil war, partnering with the vampires who benefitted off slavery, she and her battalion of Saints are essential to the Union army.

Jerusalem herself had been enslaved by a vampire, escaping North only after her family was murdered. She knows the enemy better, hates the enemy more than anyone in her battalion, and has been using it to her advantage since she joined the war a year ago. More than anything she wants revenge, but if she can help Black people gain freedom and equality without having to steal it for themselves like she had to, then all the better.

But she never expects to have to team up with a vampire to do it. Alexei is one of those handsome, arrogant Ancient Vampires. But he’s on the Union’s side, and in the year they’ve known each other, has never done anything but prove he’s on hers.

Together, they set out to change the course of the war and take down the vampire who destroyed everyone Jerusalem loved. But for her, it’s about more than justice.

It’s about killing a god.

This Night Is Ours by Ronni Davis Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

It’s the longest day of the year, and eighteen-year-old Brandy Bailey has just received the worst news of her She’s been accepted to a top nursing school, making her mother overwhelmingly proud.

The thing is, Brandy wants to be an artist. She knows all the risks of chasing her dream. She’s heard them from her mother over and over.

On top of that, Brandy’s annoying classmate from high school, the startlingly handsome Ben Nolan, is catching his far-fetched dream of being an actor. Why does he get to be fearless while she has to be practical? Ben is the last thing Brandy wants on her mind, so of course today is the day he decides to glue himself to her hip. Now his perfect face is right there in the cacophony crashing through her head.

Spinning in too many directions, Brandy’s emotions clash with the flashing lights at the town’s summer carnival. Can she have one extraordinary night before everything changes?

[heliianth]

actually bc im never gonna shut up abt it while im still on this im gonna ramble abt botw and totk and maybe how i wouldve written a sequel . & i will pay u money to listen i promise

my favoritest of totks ideas are what it expands from botw. botws whole atmosphere is drowned in quiet mourning. something bad has happened but it was a long time ago. it still hurts but theres nothing to be done now but move forward. something is still missing but all you can do is find something else. nobody has resources to rebuild and you can hear deafening echoes of better times but the alternative is giving up. you are in this frozen state of not quite moving on and not quite in despair. like the numbness stage of grief. and the pivotal element of all of that is that link is alone. like, oppressively alone. its the primary vehicle of conveying this mood. and its interesting because this can be read not only as what link is experiencing through the player but what zelda is feeling as she holds back ganon. its an interesting contrast to have zelda mature faster than link in the flashbacks, only for link to pull her the rest of the way by growing himself

and the reason why i so strongly adore the light dragon aspect of the plot is because it shows how attached to everything zelda has gotten. arguably, zelda held back ganon in botw because she loved link. in totk, she becomes the light dragon because she loves hyrule, which had previously been so unimaginably cruel to her. the crux of her character is learning that attachment is good. loving is good. you deserve to leave an imprint on the world in a shape of Your choosing instead of being another factory print on a paper. on a surface level, shes making the same choice, but the motivation and growth behind it is really powerful

i could waffle for literally ever about all that and the point is that totk takes these ideas and implements them really well through in-game worldbuilding and specifically zelda turning into the light dragon. i would occasionally get extremely emotional just seeing how things have expanded because it feels like the world is finally moving on. theres a catharsis in seeing hyrule finally heal after knowing its desolation so intimately, especially because the state of the land itself is such a strong parallel to the arcs of the two main characters, so you get the sense that not only can people move on, link and zelda specifically have started to as well. thats my favorite part

thats why i think its an odd choice that they decided on a time travel plot. if zelda HAS to be the one getting saved, if she cant be a companion in some way either via sheikah facetime or spirit tracks shenanigans or whatever, there are lots of ways to do this without her being magic fruit snacked ten bajillion years into the past. why spend all this effort intertwining her and link with the land, only to remove her from the equation and have no further growth? in botw its understandable that hyrule is stagnant and only changes when link does because zelda is stagnant and link is doing the one changing during the game. in totk its the opposite. there are lots of ways to do this with out Having to play as zelda (though honestly that would be the way id go about it)

also a lot of my own ideas have to do with the wasted potential of a place like the depths???? what the hell do you mean theres this mind bogglingly big cavern underneath the entirety of hyrule which mysterious people used to live in and it has almost no story relevance beside being a cool setpiece???????? I FEEL INSANE?!?!??!?!? there are so many good ideas in totk that never get expanded dude FUCK

i think no matter how much i speculate and draft my own preferences of how i wouldve liked totk to elaborate on the things it introduces i cant ever bring myself to present them like they couldve realistically happened and gotten thru the nintendo writing room simply bc of the games format. if it were up to me doing certain story missions would radically change the open world as events happened in real time and thats not the MO of the game's design philosophy. honestly totk's biggest enemy is the memory system and i need to kill it with fire

[sailor-aviator]

✨

Okay, so kind of a personal post, but I wanted to get my thoughts down, and I will end up deleting this later lol

For my whole life, I have loved books and stories. I have literally been writing stories since before I even knew how to read and write. Somewhere at home is a picture frame that my great-aunt put together of a drawing I made when I was like two or three, and it was a sloppy finger painting, but it's clear that it's meant to be two people and some kind of creature. And she typed up a caption for it, and I guess it was the description I had given her of what the painting was supposed to be.

"A prince saves a princess from the scary dragon, and they live happily ever after."

Not my best work, admittedly, but it's the first documented time of me making a story, and I looked at that picture frame with fondness. Who knows where it is now, probably tucked away in some box in the attack after my parents moved.

But, then I got super into writing in like the third grade when I came up with my first original story, and then my love for writing snowballed from there. I can't tell you how many stories would flit in and out of my brain over the years, but somehow I think y'all have an idea just based on the ideas I pitch on here. But, just know that the ones I put on here are only a fraction of the ones I come up with.

I don't know why I'm so in love with writing and stories exactly. Maybe it's the thrill of making my own worlds where my problems aren't so present and overwhelming, or maybe it's because I love to find the magic in different possibilities. That sounds kind of smarmy, doesn't it? But, I think it's still true.

But, something that's been part of my personal journey as of late is the idea of doing things for myself and not others. My whole life, I've been such a huge people pleaser, and now at my big age, I've decided that I don't want to live my life like that anymore, but I'm faced with the problem of: how do I stop?

I'll start off by saying that I love my parents a lot. They've made a lot of sacrifices for me and they do a lot for me, and I'm forever grateful to them. But whether they meant for it or not, there was a lot of pressure to be a certain thing growing up. I could have hobbies like writing, acting, painting, drawing, singing, etc. But I had to be realistic, and that meant that I wasn't allowed to pursue those things as my main goal. I had to find a way to stuff myself into the box of "STEM, business, or something that would make money." And I get why. Financially, life was rough for a really, REALLY long time growing up. Both of my parents came from households where their parents worked more than one job to make ends meet, and this was back in the 60s and 70s.

So, for most of my life, I allowed myself to have those hobbies, using them as an escape for the growing pressure I was feeling at needing to be "perfect" for my family. And that's just it. I was never "perfect" enough. I could have won first place at a tournament for speech and debate, and I would be given critiques on how I could have done better. They always told me they were proud of me, but the word "but" always came after their words of praise.

"You did such a good job, but..."

"That was really good, but..."

"It would have been even better if you just..."

I didn't hear the words "I'm proud of you" by themselves until I was 12 years old and it was from a family friend. I remember waiting for the "but" to come, and when it never did, I had to excuse myself to go cry in the bathroom.

So I escaped further into my little worlds, and sometimes I would share them with my friends who would always tell me that they loved my stories, but there was always the nagging feeling in the back of my head that they were lying. They had to say that because they were my friends, but also because the stories weren't...perfect.

I've always been a perfectionist, and it's something I'm learning to get over as time goes on. These past few months have been such a journey for me because I've been allowing myself to be bad at shit.

But then I started posting on here, and it made me feel so good to know that literal strangers thought my writing was good too. You guys didn't have to lie to me and tell me that it was, you genuinely thought my writing was great! And it makes me so happy! It refueled my love for writing, and I hope I can keep writing for years to come!

But I've also been telling my mom about all of this (leaving out the 18+ bits lol) and the other night she looked at me and asked me if I had considered actually getting a story published.

Now, this was a bit of a blow for me for a couple of reasons. Yes, I'm so happy that she's finally taking an interest and seeing how passionate I've always been about writing, but...

But why now? Are you asking me that because you genuinely think I'll get published, or are you asking me because you're hearing that people actually really appreciate my hobby and you think I can make money off it? Why are you suddenly so enthusiastic about something I've made clear that I always wanted to do?

Idk, I'm probably just overthinking the whole thing, and I know she's genuinely happy for me, but it still kind of heart. Yeah, the dream is to one day be a published author. It always has been, but who knows if I'll ever finish anything good enough to be published, ya know?

Anyway, if you stuck around this long you can breathe out a sigh of relief lol I'm done rambling and ranting for now. I'll get some of the updates out to you guys when I can

[shippergirl-14]

Show me how to make flowers ~ ( Creek)

Since I still don’t know how this app works I decided to post another silly little one shot I wrote a while ago to get to use it more. I’m too incompetent to reply to comments it seems I don’t know ?

Anyway, here have a silly Creek one shot that’s probably a bit ooc and has some grammar mistakes ( English is not my native language and I have adhd)

—————————————————————————

Tweek had always been troubled by his anxiety. Especially as a child, a thousand things that could go wrong crossed his mind in solely a second, raising his fear level constantly until he broke out into panic. Then there was his boyfriend Craig, who would always try to keep him in check by making sure he was distracted by a nerve calming activity and preparing him his favorite tea.

Not only since the stoic boy thought coffee tasted like shit, but also because he believed the brown liquid would only fuel his lover's overthinking nature, he helped him fight his addiction to the point the blonde would only occasionally sip a cup. Due to him mistrusting Mister and Misses Tweak, he would only allow Tweek to drink what he prepared himself. No one could convince his wary self that the shop owners didn't put something in their beverages.

As a consequence of his boyfriend's great ability to calm him and his own mastered skills to keep his mind a peaceful place, Tweek wasn't on edge every day of the week. Still, there were a lot of things that stressed him out, starting from his fear of failing all his classes to believing he could get run over by a car anytime he crossed the road.

Today, it wasn't any different from his usual outburst. The teacher of his favorite subject had given him a bad grade, leading him to spiral back into his self loathing tendencies. What if the teacher thought he was stupid now ? Did the teacher hate him now ? Was he disappointed ? Would he fail him so Tweek had to drop out and eventually live on the streets ?

Lucky for him, his partner had been distracting him the whole ride home, preventing shaking hands from ripping out more of his hair or scratch his skin. The minute they had arrived in the blonde's room, he let out a sigh of relief, feeling safe in his own space and he immediately sat down on his chair with Craig beside him, sorting the colorful paper on his desk.

Ever since, the anxious male was engrossed in creating origami figures such as a dragon or a butterfly. Over the past seven years, he had perfected his techniques and found joy in challenging himself with higher difficulties. All the negative thoughts were replaced by his concentration only on the paper, making this his number one in fighting his anxiety together with talking to his boyfriend about everything that troubled him.

Now, that the stress had left his body, Tweek seemed much more relaxed while he was teaching Craig how to make a simple flower, as requested by his lover. Something easy to comprehend and copy like a little flower shouldn't take too long to learn, right ? Wrong. It came as a surprise that Tweek had to show the smart boy how it was done a third time already.

" Et violà. C'est fini", the younger one ended his explanation, presenting his love his finished work with a proud smile. Craig couldn't stop himself from mirroring his excited expression as he felt the warmth, wrapping his heart in a cozy cocoon whenever he witnessed Tweek brightening up like that, returning. " Do you understand it now ? It's not too hard."

" I'm sorry, honey. I'm still confused about a few steps. Can you show me again ?", the older asked nicely, leaning closer to appear as interested as he was in his little craft. " But I've shown you at least three times by now", Tweek muttered, unsure if the thing he had chosen was too difficult for his partner and if they should do something entirely different for the rest of the day.

" Please, my dear ?" His green eyes lit up when his dearest reached out for another piece of paper. " First, you have to fold it in the middle a few times like this and make sure you do it neatly." Exactly like the times before, the ravenette blocked his voice out, paying all his attention to his lover's face rather than his hands.

The way he stuck out his tongue when he was focused on perfectly folding the edges or how his brows furrowed whenever he made a mistake caused his heart to jump. He couldn't think of anything he liked more than watching his darling engage in something he loved. It would never get boring, seeing the excitement reflected by his beautiful blue eyes the moment he finished another piece. Adding to that, it was clear it made Tweek happy sharing his interests with him.

The blonde was right about the flower not being hard to make since Craig had picked up the correct way the first time it was explained to him. His love didn't need to know about that, though. Maybe, the next time he would ask for something bigger so Tweek would take longer to finish.

This was his only chance to admire his boyfriend without him noticing and he was sure as hell going to make the most out of it. The second he would admit he understood the process the shorter boy wouldn't continue because he probably believed Craig was bored.

Observing his partner with a stupid little smile tugging at his lips, the stoic teenager rested his head on his hand that's been supported by the large desk. He wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was staring, but could you really blame him ? His boyfriend was too pretty and cute. No one could resist.

" J'ai fini." Hearing him speaking french was definitely a bonus too. Just as before, Tweek proudly presented the small paper flower and handed it to Craig together with the others he made. At this point, he might have caught on the little shenanigans Craig was pulling. " Do you get it now ?", Tweek questioned, giggling to himself.

" No, I still haven't understood that last part."

A bright smile overtook his features. " Do you want me to show you again ?"

" Yes, honey. Please show me how to make flowers."

—————————————————————————

I don’t know what to think of this to be honest… I wrote it like in an hour and please my French is so bad. Don’t mind that. I just really love the French Tweek hc.

If you want to suffer through more of my writing you can find me on Wattpad and ao3 ^^

This is like my newest work….

[horizon-verizon]

What do you think about Rhaenys scene in ep9 and sara comment about civilians don't count.....

*EDITED POST* 10/6/23

It doesn't make any sense and is all without real logic.

We do not get to see how the hell she got out and didn't get caught all the way from her room in the Keep to the Dragonpit, which is canonically on a totally different hill than the Red Keep. If we are meant to think she knows secret passageways, why not show us? Why are we trying to make up for this plot/lore hole, when this is a very basic hole to not even make in the first place?

🔗 Hess' and Kliner's reasoning for Rhaenys bursting out through the floor of the Dragonpit is that Rhaenys doesn't care about "civilians" (peasants are not civilians, that's not a term we can use for a medieval context; even if she said that facetiously it reveals a lack of better thought of the politics here) because she is focused on; I would argue that because she cares what happens to her grandkids, she is not going to feed the greens more material to use against Rhaenyra, which is the deaths of hundreds of small folk.

No matter what, Rhaenys is the grandmother of Daemon Targaryen's daughters who are under his authority and have long been betrothed to marry Jacersy and Lucerys respectively WHILE growing up with them ever since Rhaneyra and Laena betrothed them...as is their right as their parents...and Daemon Targ is married to Rhaenyra. She cannot escape this and claim total neutrality, not at all, even if canon Rhaenys wanted to (which she didn't; she was actually the one at the black council to suggest razing down the greens, not Daemon). One prime argument was that Rhaenys saw Alicent as a mother like herself. If canon Rhaenys had been in show!Rhaenys' position, she would have most likely fried all the greens herself and that would be that. She wouldn't give three damns that Alicent is a mother. There are thousands of mothers, but you best believe that a mother/grandmother would kill another mother if it meant her own kids or grandkids were way more assured to live or not be targeted.

🔗 As this article says, this scene removed real substantive tension for just show and display of bad-aasery. It dehumanizes the peasants, as we don't even see shots of those peasants crying, bleeding, etc the way we would see soldiers in a war movie lose limbs and all that. So we can't even strongly argue for this scene being foreshadowing for the later rioting against Rhaenyra and the Targ dragons, since we're not even led to empathize with the peasants -- the camera doesn't let us

Despite 🔗 what this article says, the fact that a whole dragon bursts through the floor of the Dragonpit, killing many and flying out after a supposedly tense scene of "will she, won't she" WOULD BE RECORDED. People would talk about this event if it actually happened in canon because this is a positively cataclysmic event for too many people and was done too publicly to be hidden. This is like if someone said that Cersei blowing up the KL's Sept was never spread across the realm and was never recorded into history by any maester. Come on now! This reasoning -- that such an event wouldn't be recorded or survive to be told and spread across the realm -- is self-contradictory and denies both canon lore/human social dynamics because how in the ever-living god do we learn about Aemond burning down the Riverlands, how did we still retain records and past events that Baelor I tried to burn, how does the maesters and royal family silence every single peasant that survived and told this to other peasants and those peasants tell other peasants and those peasants tell their families and children and descendants and those descendants tell their descendants...how?! How do the show writers know that this happened then?! No, this article writer is trying to give this episode excuses.

It disparages Rhaenys' intelligence because if the writers choose to present conflict or danger to Rhaenys and her family through the Greens imprisoning her, and then they decided to present her with the opp to get rid of the problem, then why doesn't she decide to get rid of that problem both for herself and her grandkids? Even if Alicent doesn't know of Otto's plans and hopes, if Rhaenys is "intelligent", she should know Otto's obvious desires...

Or if Rhaenys were not flame the greens, then the reason should not be "motherhood" or anything that makes Rhaenys emotionally consider Alicent her victim, but to continue with the "what is politically good" idea and bc kin slaying could be brought up against her or the blacks. Again, the writers/showrunners are going back on their own claimed motivations for her.

[zaenaris]

I'm really curious about Kokonui in Bad Toman Futur/Manilla Future, because they never had their closure (or even THE discussion during the fight against Tenjiku) like in the arc that we have now (Inupi who has short hair, when he loves have long hair, it's obvious to know why he cut it) and I'm sure that Koko is aware that Izana/Kisaki knows that Inupi is his weakness. But they seems still close anyway. have you some headcanons about those timelines?

One thing I would have loved to see more in the different present timelines is "how we get there" but since the story is in Takemitchy's pov, of course we don't know lol. In the Manila timeline, Izana was so powerful not even Naoto/the police knew much about him and Naoto never really heard about Tenjiku. I guess the various time-leapings changed many things, before creating the Bonten timeline

Anyway, in the other present timelines, I agree, probably Koko and Inui never got the closure/talk they are having right now in this arc, so I guess it is up to interpretation, we have no evidence either way. Maybe the kept tiptoeing around their problems, or maybe growing up at some point they dealt with them. If we talk about Kokonui fanfictions/fanart set in the Manila timeline (while there aren't so much now that I think about it -or at least, I haven't seen so many - they are usually set in the first "Bad Toman" or in Bonten timeline) I like all the interpretations, maybe at some point became friends with benefits, unable to set their communication problems, or maybe at some point they talked about it, or maybe they never really managed to improve the situation, inadvertently keeping to hurt each other

From what wee have seen in the Manila timeline, they are full fledged criminals, Koko still act as arrogant as ever and Inupi is even more stoic than the first Bad Toman timeline (when they are introduced). I was re-reading the volume recently since it is the last published where I live (and I personally love our translator, but that's not the point lol). The point is Taiju really roasts both Inui and Koko and, while in ch. 133 we still didn't have the full picture about them, re-reading the chapter and knowing their past, you really see Taiju had a point.

So I think the narrative kind of implies in that timeline they had not reach a turning point yet, they were not able to have a conversation like the one they had in the current arc.

So for the sake of spiciness and my love for angst and complicated relationships (lol), If I had to have headcanons on them in this timeline, while again, I'm not really sure and I'd go with pretty much every interpretation, I think they never really dealt with their problems (Inupi with his obsession for the original Black Dragon and Koko with money). They would have the sort of relationship where it's clear they love each other and would die for the other, but the lines are blurred, they are usually together, sometimes they sleep together but they don't really label this "situationship" but it's undeniable there is something between them.

I'm sure Kisaki, that manipulate Izana, and Izana himself, in that timeline were well aware of their relationship, whatever it was (I think it was clear to anyone, even Mucho in the past says it's annoying Koko listens only to Inui) and if needed, they would take advantage of it, to keep both Inui and Koko under control in case of necessity. Of course, this doesn't deny the possibility for them to talk at some point about the whole situation and set their problems. In this timeline the Kantou conflict, that ended with the merger of Toman and Tenjiku,  happened and maybe the fight where Inui and Koko “broke up” didn’t really happened, or happened but differently and it lead to them in the Manila timeline, where maybe their relationship is more complicated than the one in the first Bad Toman (at least, they give me that vibe)

EDIT: i forgot about the first Bad Toman timeline (when they are introduced in the story for the first time as Toman/former BD executives). In that timeline, maybe it’s because we see them during a business dinner, but they really give that “rich and expensive together” vibe. I think the possible scenarios would be pretty much the same as in Manila timeline, but maybe less complicated by the events(whatever they were) in the Kantou conflict

[littlegoldenbirdie]

The Dragon and the Maiden (sort of) #2

What can I say? I dig redemption and second chances.

Chapter 2: Kindness for the nameless

A strange, strangled cross between a shocked gasp and a hoarse little whimper erupted from his throat as he felt her touch… small hands gently caressing his face, seemingly wiping away the stinging cuts on his cheeks and brow. His breath caught in his throat for a long moment before he finally managed to speak. “You’re… helping me? Just like that? No threats, no coercion on my part? You’re just going to help me?” Too weak to speak more than those few incredulous sentences, he quieted down, opening his eyes again as she stepped away from his face, turning her attention to the rest of his battered body.

Feeling his eyes upon her, Amelia walked away from his face, moving slowly and just taking him in. His formerly brilliant gold scales had dulled from prolonged stress and starvation, draping themselves over skeletal limbs and ribs that stood out in stark relief, but she could still see how tenaciously his body clung to life, the ripple of muscle against bone as he breathed, the shivering of badly broken wings, how easily his mighty claws could have scooped her up or dismembered her with an errant twitch… “Magnificent,” she murmured to the empty air. A soft yet snarp snort came from him upon hearing her say that. “You should have seen me in my heyday, back before the Mending happened,” he managed to whisper, his sheer size making his words audible at least twenty feet away and thusly impossible for her to miss. “I was far more majestic back then.”

It was then that the implications of his starvation came to her. “Healing spells draw on the recipient’s natural strength and energy reserves, and spells to increase those require there to be some already present to be added to. Otherwise, they just pass right through the body and go to waste. You… you’ve got nothing I can draw on. At the moment, all I can do is ease the pain you feel. A proper healing could only take place if you got some rest and had time to get some of your strength back.” He gave a shuddering sigh, his body tensing in weak rage. “So much for hope… I’ve been on the run since I got here! I don’t get it. For the first time in my whole life, I just don’t get it. The Gruul Clans are supposed to follow the strongest fighter, but I’ve made that hairy cyclops they call their boss eat dirt several times and they still want to kill me! Their stupid pig god gored me twice! Twice! Did the rules get changed while I was hiding out down here?” The explanation passed Amelia’s lips before she even realized she was speaking out loud. “Niv-Mizzet, who is now the Living Guildpact, declared that there would be a hunt for you, in the manner of the great dragon hunts of Ravnica’s past that left him the last of his kind. All members of every Guild are bound to obey this decree, that you be killed on sight. Ugin was most displeased with this development, but what’s he going to do? He’s staying on Ravnica as Niv-Mizzet’s guest, and he’s not the Living Guildpact either.” A look of sorrow crossed the fallen dragon’s face at the mention of Ugin. Amelia paused. She’d heard mention of the two’s relationship, twin brothers who had fought for eons, but the momentary look on his face was the first acknowledgement of that fact that she’d ever seen from the former tyrant. Perhaps he was realizing that any bridges between them had been burned long ago, and that yet another avenue of escape had been denied him.

“…Can you move?” Her words surprised them both. He had fully expected to be left to die, and even she hadn’t expected to be willing to take it any further than healing him and leaving. Twenty-five thousand years of sheer pragmatism pushed his surprise aside as he realized that, yes, she really meant to help him. He tried to lift his body off the ground, but he still couldn’t so much as twitch. “Well, I guess that answers that question,” Amelia said. “If you couldn’t keep me away from you, you certainly can’t follow me back to my home. If I could get you there, I could at least try to hide you.” The attempt to move exhausted what little strength he had, so he found himself forced to close his eyes and rest, panting quietly as he went limp. He really didn’t have anything left, she realized.

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

He may not know it yet, but things are looking up for him.

[huntingofbeasts]

You were once the shining star of Thetia. The sole heir, with perfect stats in everything, anything a kingdom could want. Magic, combat, politics? All were child's play. You were beloved and the harbinger of a brilliant dawn. It was coming up roses.

Until you died.

It wasn't a pretty affair. You were just coronated, finally claiming your place as the ruler you prepared your whole life for. Yet you were ambushed before the night ended. Your throat slit by a mysterious assassin, you fell, vanishing into the bowels of the underground.

Death never found you. Rather, another divinity did. They gave you an offer: play their game, or go mad inside oblivion. The prize? The chance to live again, with all your skill and knowledge, alongside a fraction of divine power. Only there was a catch.

You must find and kill the person who killed you.

Time's ticking.

Best get hunting.

Three branching storylines: Acceptance, Neutral, and Wrath. Each of these Routes provides a unique storyline and together, all three Routes give the full story

Due to the extreme nature of the Routes and general violence and gore planned, this is 18+. I have a pretty extensive list of TWs for each Route, some being more troublesome than others.

Play as the Ruler of Thetia, an undead of a long-fallen kingdom. It's a question for yourself alone if you want to return to who you once were.

Character customization for appearance, as well as what race MC was before their untimely demise.

Four romantic options.

The world is based on a Homebrew world I use for DnD campaigns. There is quite a bit of lore, so there will be Glossary made for details.

Each RO has a unique storyline based on which Route they are romanced in. The Akio in Acceptance will not have the same fate as the one in Wrath, nor will you acquire the same information.

I hate grammar, grammar hates me, if there's tensing issues I'll fix them over time, but there's going to be a mess of present and past tense all over the place

This is a rewrite/revival of an old IF and its first attempted rewrite years later. I'm still learning Twine, so I'm doing my best!

>I might have random large hiatuses depending on life irl or just my health (I'm not a healthy person lol), so don't think I died~

Each RO has some stake in your past. Any one of them could end you in the game, and any one of them could have been your killer.

Alia

Species: Sheep (Male)

A childhood friendship. In his youth, used to be your maid due to his demure attitude and generally approachable atmosphere. Even on the eve of your coronation, he was at your side, crying tears of joy upon you finding your way. A fluffy, lovely experience with the person who never gave up on you.

Akio

Species: Oni (Gender Selectable)

A very hot-headed, hedonistic oni. They love good food, good drink and living in the present. Combat is their ideal field and, despite everything, they're a loyal friend to the end. A deep bond to last through hell itself, playing the spear to your shield.

Jin Liang

Species: Eastern Dragon (Lung) (Gender Selectable)

The sanest and most level-headed of all. They are exceedingly intelligent and seem to have a mind for tactics. Despite this, there's a sort of charisma behind that abrasive exterior that belies even the most hotheaded to obey them. A bitter soul who hasn't forgotten their long lost quest.

Lamenta

Species: Wolf (Gender Selectable)

A loyal knight, ever devoted to you and you alone. They don't seem very capable of expressing themself, and often get in your way. Upon your return, they seem even more distant than before. They're the one you can entrust all your secrets to.

Demo: 1.1 Now Released!

RO Appearances

[blacknovelist]

Ten Years Gone (Overwatch AU Fic)

Hi. In case yall needed more definitive proof that I live here now.

@painthorseblues mentioned a shimada roleswap au to me and I went "fuck yes" which more or less summarizes all the interactions, nowadays. Not to be generic, but i love these guys so much.

Dunno if links are still broken or not but if they are sucks to be me I guess!!

[AO3]

On the anniversary of his brother's death, a tired shadow breaks into Shimada manor in order to pay his respects.

Knelt upon the old sturdy mats before the vast untouched tapestry and carefully placed incense and a gleaming sharp katana, Shimada Genji bowed his head and tried to remember how to breathe.

It never got easier. His chest refused to loosen much with the passing of days, cinching instead tighter each year like a slow and steady march. Here on the trailing edge of the tenth anniversary, it resembled an intangible work vice more than anything, tightened as far as it would go around his lungs. Like ghostly arrows in his chest, an ever present ache that rattled and tugged and refused to abate, heedless of his attempts to pull them free. Like a blade lodged in his windpipe, bitter-sharp as he drowned on air.

On the worst nights he wondered— had it been like this, when the Elders struck him down? Had they drawn it out, vast years in a single night? Or had they pulled on nonexistent mercy to end it swiftly and without second thought?

Senses and instinct formed in a childhood of endless training and further honed by the road sent a cascade of needles down his spine. The quiet tap of a solid mass on the rafters high above, a soft echo of hissing air just shy of passing off as the wind. Metal on wood muffled by experience and cloth, not quite enough.

"I had wondered," Genji murmured into the dim night, "when I might see one of your kind again."

It had been weeks since the last attempt on his life. None of those who came before had followed him here without falling alongside the nameless, faceless guards outside.

How poetic, for one to slip past now.

Feet, feather-light on the floor. He did not shift. A clatter of something metallic, scraping against each other. His hands remained limp on his knees.

"How bold." A heavily modulated voice, dry enough to suspect a human, layered in enough buzz to make him second guess for an omnic. "To enter the den of your foes so brazenly."

Here on the estate's high and massive balcony, the advantage of new shadows and high walls the assassin held were mitigated by Genji's own memories, recollections of nooks and crannies and the best spots a body could wedge itself.

"I do not miss calling these halls home, but there are some things that must be done, regardless."

No reply. But then, there, the creak of a string, the frame that tethered it.

Genji did not rise. Instead he shut his eyes, willed his heart and breath to remain steady, hushed the disgruntled ripple of his dragon deep within. So long now, since that day. He tried, he really did, to stand up, to keep going, to live on, just as he'd been asked. Exhaustion seeped from his bones, weighed down on his veins.

Ten whole years. That was enough, wasn't it, Hanzo?

His breath escaped as the bowstring slipped from taut fingers, wicked arrowhead and sleek shaft darting forth to claim him. It sank deep into the floor in front of him instead, quivering, and he had no choice but to pull in another. Something tried to stir in his chest, old embers kindled by the projectile wind that flicked his ear, tempered by the bed of dread like ash on his tongue.

"That was pathetic," he said. "If you mean to do something, do not toy around."

Air hissed long and low like a breath— or perhaps, a sigh?— and the assassin shifted at his back. For a moment, nothing.

"So this is it?" they asked at last. The incredulity rang clear in the assassin's quiet voice, something tight beneath that Genji refused to read into. "You would choose to kneel, and die like a dog." Another, shorter hiss. "Just like your brother."

Ice scraped down his spine, past the swords in his throat, a rapidly bursting cascade that filled his chest, then his limbs, then his whole body. A sudden muted roar in his ears, both his dragon and his own roiling blood.

He felt more than heard the snarl that ripped itself out of his throat, the world crystalline and clear as he spun from his kneel to sink one of the dozen shuriken on his belt into the junction of the stranger's chest and shoulder, just shy of blinking blue lights. Ryū Ichimonji's hilt already rested in his other hand, drawing the blade as he stood and lunged. The assassin barely had time to lift their bow from where they'd begun to lower it, and it shuddered as the blade collided and showered sparks. When he sought to meet the other's gaze, he found a visor lit by a single glowing line.

"How dare you," Genji hissed, pressed heavy against his sword, seeking a chance by which he might drive it past the defensive stance. "Do not speak of him like that!"

The assassin heaved, tossing Genji back into the dojo, but that did little to stall. Three more shuriken carved a line towards them and they barely had time to jostle the one in their shoulder free before they ducked and dove aside towards the cover of a thick paper wall. The golden cloth hung from the back of their head failed to evade quite as smoothly, two new frayed edges fluttering as the shuriken spun off into the night unhindered. The youngest Shimada snarled.

"Did they not tell you what they did to him, that night? What they asked of him, how they answered?" The divider did well to mute the light, but not enough— the assassin barely flickered away from two well-aimed stars before they launched up with a flash of blue and inhuman grace, claw-toed feet grasping at the thick wood. "He gave them everything and they destroyed him."

He couldn't see where they pulled their arrows from, but he leapt back as one curved down towards his feet, another for his arm. A third, angled to graze across his torso, bounced off his hastily-drawn wakizashi instead. The single muffled grunt his return volley earned brought sharp satisfaction, more still as the assassin clamored for a new perch. Their next arrow struck the ground beside him and burst, and he was forced to divert briefly from his onslaught to deflect and dodge the thin bouncing fragments.

"Damned, regardless of the choice. But he did not give them everything, did he?" The assassin's voice echoed from where they clung to the beams, head cocked. "You are still here after all, aren't you, Genji?"

It took Genji a moment to realize that what he'd mistaken for burning ice had been white hot magma, blazing bright from long dormancy and spilling out across his tongue, through his teeth. His dragon rumbled in agreement, and its borrowed strength propelled him up further than any unaugmented human could have gone. With a muted gasp the assassin dropped to the floor once more, closely followed by the enraged ninja and a shower of chipped wood.

This time, when Genji's katana locked with the bow's frame, he jerked and kicked them first. The force tore the wall and sent them careening towards the courtyard, but experience told him to press the pursuit— and rewarded him the sight of the assassin's back as they began to pull back, arrow nocked but undrawn. A brief turn. Another flash of light, an unnatural leap backward. An arrow that narrowly missed his shoulder and curved to strike the wall, though this one didn't turn to shrapnel behind him. His answering shuriken scraped along the panels of their back as they tried to flee down one of the corridors. By the time he reached it and emerged on the other side, they'd vanished again.

"You spend more time dwelling in this past than in your own presence," said the assassin, ignorant of their target's plotting. Their arm whirred, and an arrow emerged from their right palm to rest upon the bow's frame. "What kind of existence is that?"

"What would you know?" he snarled into the darkness. "What do you care?" A creak in the boards. His shuriken embedded itself into the wall behind him, but the assassin had already moved away. Genji whirled in time to watch them settle near the rail, pulsing light. A plan wove itself from nothing behind his eyes as he studied them. A long shot, perhaps— but a victory, regardless of outcome. The shuriken slot themselves into his palms and itched to move, but he held for now.

"One where I can honor him when I am the only one left who will."

Father spoke of the dragons to them, a long time ago. Companions, spirits, guardians, a facet of their bloodline that could be neither abused or stolen. Perhaps, given time and energy, they could be replicated— but never the same as their own. A dragon to a Shimada, just as a koi to a pond.

Once more, the assassin tipped their head. Genji grit his teeth and allowed one star to fly. They shot it down mid-flight, but Genji soared behind it, long katana exchanged for the more flexible wakizashi.

This time he flit about, clashing with the archer only just long enough to cause sparks and prevent the other from drawing new arrows forth. The assassin adapted with ease, taking one end of the sturdy bow frame in both hands to whirl it at his center of mass. Both gave as much as they took, each swing met and diverted with like. Here, his foe's mechanical nature worked against him, a body no doubt built for combat equally suited to overpowering— if this had been how the battle remained, Genji didn't know if he would have succeeded.

They locked weapons once more, assassin curled low to halt the heavy downward stab. A shift of feet, and much like before they sent the other ninja up and away with a single powerful heave. Unlike before, he'd been ready. Genji twisted in mid-air and hurled the last two shuriken in his palm. The assassin lifted their weapon and arms reflexively, but he hadn't aimed for the head or the chest, or even the arms or hands.

Instead they twirled for the other's feet, the sturdy but slim structure of their legs and ankles. The assassin tried to scramble back. One embedded itself into the floor, but the second managed to carve a deep gouge. They fell with a grunted curse and heavy thump— it wouldn't stop them for long, Genji knew, but it would slow them down.

That was all he needed.

He let the short blade slip from his fingertips, Ryū Ichimonji returning to his grip as his feet impacted the wall. The momentum coiled him there for a beat, the dragon's call already falling from his lips, ethereal emerald green swirling. It manifested into open maw and cleaving intent as he sprang out and down to meet the figure prone upon the floor.

Through his focus, distant and muted, he also saw. The realization in the lines of their body, the renewed determination of their bow's grip. They lifted it, yet empty, as he drew the blade, his words fallen from his tongue, and—

Ryū ga waga teki wo kurau!

Light, vibrant, familiar, blossomed from the assassin's arm, a cascade from fingers to wrist to shoulder as an arrow sprang from their palm to be launched. Illumination followed the steel tip in a stormy swirl, blips like firebugs fusing to form scales, horns, two mouths and graceful roaring faces.

The arrow's angle led it to split on his blade, the impossible dragons colliding with his own like a summer storm. Their energy washed over him, invisible water and heat and something other that left his fingertips tingling, and though they never struck him— though they avoided him, burning coils mere inches from his arms, his face— he found his momentum arrested, feet and knees colliding roughly with dark wood before the other. His dragon hissed, roared, shrieked, cried as siblings thought lost spun and diverted ten years of wrath into empty air. And as it joined them, greens and blues intertwined in their return to the realm in which they rested, his katana clattered to the ground, his outflung hands the only thing that kept him from joining it.

Breath felt like an improbable dream born from older days, when all he'd needed to worry about had been what he'd eat for breakfast, what training Asa might put him through next, how to try and convince his brother to evade an afternoon of lessons in favor of far more important children things. But his lungs still worked somehow, wheezy and tight as they were, thoughts crashing into each other like train wrecks and tide-beaten stone.

Dragons. Bows. The stance of a swordsman behind that of an archer. The puzzle, all laid out neat and tidy, and yet the final realization refused him. He lifted his head to gaze at his would-be assassin, sat up themself with the empty bow still lifted and pointed at him. Between the junction of hand and sleeve, what he'd earlier dismissed as some glimpse of mechanics beneath— did ink paint the skin there blue, or was it wishful thought?

He searched for words, an answer, a question, held them up like paint swatches and found most of them wanting. With an aim like they had demonstrated, it would've been child's play to drive that final arrowhead through his skull. Even now, if they called upon the quiver within their arm, he knew he would not stop them. He had never managed to claim victor during spars that spanned growing up. His heart curled, body breathless, the blue glow leaving his eyes aching— but he needed this.

"Why?" Genji asked, heedless of the way his voice broke over the single word. The assassin said nothing, did little, save to lay their empty weapon on the ground and shift from prone to kneeling. Without thinking, he moved to mirror it.

"I refused to kill you once, ten years ago," they said, plainly, quietly. "Is it so hard to believe I would do so again?"

And before Genji could open his mouth in answer, before he could question, or deny, or even finish piecing together the riddle in full— the assassin lifted their hands to their head. With the hiss of a latch coming undone, the line of light dimmed and the shielding plate fell into waiting palm.

The face beneath differed vastly from the man in Genji's memory. Knotted pale skin lined what had once been sharp well-defined cheeks, one brow covered by metal and paired with a synthetic eyelid that did little to hide the faint artificial sheen of the eye beneath. When he pulled down the cloth that covered the rest of his face, it revealed a twisted bottom lip and more hard silver along his jaw.

But his other eye had remained whole, both the same glittering intense brown— whoever crafted the replacement had clearly paid close attention— and the arch of the remaining eyebrow, sharp enough to be a weapon in and of itself, felt ripped straight from memory. Beneath the rest of the helmet, Genji could only just make out the roots of dark hair, the edges of distinct sideburns.

Hanzo still pursed his lips the same, too, lips curled tight inward. It was the face he made when he wanted and thought he shouldn't have, but had already long caved to the desires regardless.

It felt like the arrows had managed to lodge into Genji's chest anyway, eyes alight with dripping fire. His hand reached without conscious input and clutched the gloved hand that met it like a lifeline, warm and abuzz with the remnants of the twin dragons' influence.

"You're dead," he choked out, disbelief thicker than the tears.

"I am not."

"Is that supposed to be better? I– You—" he stopped, swallowed. Both of them looked at the visor in Hanzo's other hand, one after the other, and knew what the unspoken meant.

"I am what I am. Who I am. I have adapted, and will continue to do so, as always." The hand clutching his squeezed, gently, and Hanzo lifted the plate once more. Genji didn't know whether to protest or let it be, and inaction decided for him. "The question now, Genji, is what you will do."

[sunder-soul]

𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖛𝖊

❶·❷·❸·❹·❺·❻

Chapter One: There's just something about those Riddle murders that doesn't quite make sense... Wordcount: 2.3k Content warning: language, allusions to bigotry.

Permanent Taglist: @jujugentle @weirdowithnobeardo @pearlstiare @fromthehellmouth @whoevenfrickenknows @moatsnow @voidmalfoy @lucys-brain @sunles @arana-alpha @tallyovie @expectoscamander @nothinghcppens @itsjustfics @mikariell95 @suicide-sweetheart636 @toasterking

Name: MORFIN GORMLAITH GAUNT

Age: 46

Wand: fir, 10 ¾ inches, dragon heartstring

Residence: Gaunt Estate, Little Hangleton, Yorkshire

Marital status: -

Offense charge: three counts of murder in the primary degree

Date of charged offense: 1st July, 1943

Offense Detail: prisoner entered the residence of the Riddle family (Muggle, IM-00) and inflicting the Killing Curse (UC-001-1717) upon the three members of the Riddle family present; Thomas Riddle (63), Mary Riddle (60), and their son Tom Riddle (37). Use of the Killing Curse has been confirmed by Prior Incantato (see report DMLE-619-1951-BLE, SA: Robert Odgen).

Date of Testimony: 3rd July, 1943

Prisoner plea: guilty

Sentence: Azkaban, 360 years

Date of Sentence: 3rd July, 1943

You frown.

It’s very late, the candle your desk is barely a stub, the little flame hovering nervously on the surface of a broad pool of wax, and you’ve been copying over these stupid reports to the new, tamper-proof parchment forms for seven hours now – but something is extremely odd about these dates.

“McCollin,” you say slowly. “Did you work this case?”

“Hmm?” McCollin doesn’t look up at the desk beside you, head resting heavily on one hand and his spine curled into a perfect and truly concerning C-shape over his own stack of files. He looks close to passing out right there and then, salt-and-pepper hair a little greasy, scruffy five o’clock shadow, eyes bleary and shadowed.

“Gaunt,” you read, “1943. You were working with Odgen then, right?”

He snorts. “Yeah, I remember that nutter.”

“What happened?”

“Guy was from one of those ancient pure-blooded clans, you know, one of the real fanatical ones, inbreeding and liquidated assets and all,” McCollin yawns, dragging his hand down his face and smearing ink across his whiskered cheek. “Hated Muggles like nobody’s business."

“Yeah he killed three Muggles, right?” you peer at the report.

McCollin nods at the form he's copying. “Went off the deep end one day. Walked right up to their house and murdered ‘em. When they brought him in he was ranting and raving about how they’d had it coming for years.”

“He was arrested, charged, and sentenced within three days,” you say slowly.

He finally looks up at you. “So?”

“That’s the fasted processing I’ve ever seen.”

“The guy admitted to it, kiddo,” McCollin says in deadpan, “he had snakes nailed to his door and his family tree was basically a Christmas wreath.”

“Yeah, but… what made he snap?”

He laughs again, shaking his head despondently as he returns to his form. “You got a lot to learn.”

His tone wants to be fond but it just strikes you as patronising, especially considering the amount of times people have said that exact same stupid line to you. It’s like half the bloody department think being Muggle-born makes you incapable of understanding the subtle and unique intricacies of wizarding culture – as if bigotry and supremacists and assholes are exclusive to the magical world. “What?” you say a little too defensively.

“Families like that… guys like that… they’re not right in the head. Hate Muggles just to hate ‘em, reckon they’re all that’s wrong with the world. Honestly it’s a miracle he didn’t do it sooner.”

You look back down at the report, suspicions anything but assuaged. “Yeah,” you say quietly, “it is.”

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“Did you ever watch Gaunt’s testimony?”

“You’re still going on about that?” McCollin drawls, heaving the towering box of finished files up a bit as he heads for the lifts.

“I looked him up in Records and the memory’s only available with supervisor permission,” you push, following him quickly. “If you signed me off then I could get Owler to –”

He slams the button and stares at the little golden arrow above the elevator grate slowly sliding towards the basement floor. “And why in Merlin’s name do you want to watch the Gaunt trial?”

You slip your hands into the pockets of your purple Ministry robes. “I’m interested.”

“Interested,” he echoes, shooting you a look. “Is that so?”

“He was processed in three days, McCollin. If it was that obvious he was guilty, it must have been one hell of a trial.”

“It was,” he scoffs as the lift dings and the grate grinds to a noisy open. “Fine, but only if you finish Johan’s quota by five.”

The triumph is impossible to keep off your face and McCollin rolls his eyes at your immediate glee. “I’m on it,” you grin, spinning around and racing back to your desk to get started.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“Merlin’s beard,” McCollin mutters, shaking his head at the stack of completed transcripts. “I gotta hold stuff over your head more often.”

“Just sign the slip, McCollin,” you smirk.

He sighs and grabs the quill from your hand, and you hold your breath as he scribbles his initials on the slip. “You’re obsessed,” he drawls.

You seize the slip and round on the lift, heart racing with excitement. “I’m interested.”

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

The trial is absolutely insane.

Morfin Gaunt looks like a Witch Weekly cartoon caricature of a fanatical blood-purist and he rambles in a manic-edged, ceaseless torrent about how much he enjoyed murdering the Riddles as the Wizengamot mutters and blithers disapprovingly for about three hours – but something catches your attention right near the end. Something you can’t help but ask Owler about the second the memory ends and you’re thrown back into the Records Room.

“Who’s Merope?”

Owler’s sallow face looks about as thrilled at your question as he was at your request for the memory in the first place. “Merope Gaunt,” he says in a flat, nasally voice, waving his wand at the Pensieve and sending the memory swirling back into its phial.

“Merope Gaunt?”

Owler’s thin, anaemic lips downturn even more. “His sister.”

You stare at him. It is not at all what you’d expected. “And why did he call his sister a mud-soused, scumsucking slut?”

“Ask your supervisor.”

“He seemed to be saying he killed those people because of Merope, why on earth would his sister be why he –”

“I keep the records, I don’t conduct the investigations,” Owler interrupts with not inconsiderable disdain. “Now if you could please –”

“Did they bring Merope in for testimony?”

Owler gives your continuing presence a very dirty look. “No.”

“Why not?”

He pushes the door to the Records room open and stares at you.

You try to hold your ground but Owler is unrelenting, and you're forced to step past him with a curt sigh. “Right, well, good afternoon, Owler, thanks for –”

The door slams shut behind you.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“Get what you wanted?” McCollin smirks as you collapse stony-faced into your chair.

“I forgot how impressively unpleasant it is to talk to Owler,” you mutter, resting your head in your hands. “Did you know about Merope?”

“Merope?”

“Yeah, Morfin’s sister.”

“Didn’t know he had one,” McCollin says disinterestedly.

“He was saying some stuff that made it sound like she’s why he killed those Muggles.”

“Uh huh.”

You lift your head, giving him an incredulous look. “He said she’s why he murdered three people, McCollin. How does that not interest you?”

McCollin throws down his quill and sighs sharply. “Look kiddo, the guy’s rotting in Azkaban, he admitted to the murders, they found the curses in his wand, and he had a memory of the whole thing. What exactly are you hoping to achieve here?”

You can barely believe it. “Why isn’t Merope Gaunt mentioned in any of his trial documents?” you say sharply.

“Either she wasn't relevant to the proceedings, or she's dead, or he made her up,” McCollin shrugs, “like I said, the guy went off the deep end.”

“But why doesn’t it say –”

“Just drop it,” he sighs impatiently, “you have work to do, and I won’t have you wasting clocked time on some case from nearly a decade ago.”

“Come on, McCollin, can’t you admit that it’s weird that –”

“I said drop it,” he says sharply, “don’t make me be the big mean supervisor here, you know I hate it.”

You glare at him. “Fine,” you say through gritted teeth.

It’s almost too easy to pull Morfin’s old file from where it’s still sitting in the refuse pile and subtly charm a copy of it that evening.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

Merope Gaunt, as far as you can tell, fucking vanished off the face of the earth in 1925.

There’s nothing, no addresses, no marriage or death notice, no registered Floo connections, no DRC calls for gnomes or doxies or even the odd kappa, not a single trace of her after Morfin and their father Marvolo had a stint in Azkaban for assaulting Bob Odgen back in the 20s.

It seems like the second they were locked up, she scarpered.

You sit back in the Archives Hall and let out a long breath, flipping the folder shut dejectedly. Morfin’s file is a thick wad of anti-Muggle hate crimes rivalled only by his father’s, and closer inspection had revealed that the Gaunt family estate sat a cool twenty minutes' walk from Riddle House where the murders had occurred. If Morfin had lived so close to some of the Muggles he hated so much, he’d been sitting on a clear motive for murder for years.

So why suddenly snap?

What had pushed him over the edge?

Why did he cite Merope in his deranged testimony?

Why talk about her in that way?

Where the hell did she go?

There are endless questions and zero answers. Plus, you kind of get the feeling that if McCollin saw you hunched in the Archives after-hours trying to find those answers, you’d get your pay docked.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

That night, you sit bolt upright in bed with a surge of electric realisation.

Mud-soused… scumsucker…

You’ve heard that language before. You’ve processed about four hundred case files of harassment with that language.

“Idiot,” you breathe, smacking your forehead and falling back onto your pillows with a thump. “Idiot, of course…”

Because that’s the way Pure-blood extremists talk about witches and wizards who've fallen in love with Muggles.

Suddenly, you have a pretty good idea where Merope might have disappeared to the moment her blood-obsessed brother and father were out of the picture, and a pretty good idea of where you might be able to look to find her. Because you’ve been looking in the wrong place.

You’ve been looking for her in the wizarding world.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“I have the craziest news for you,” you grin, slamming a silver Sickle on the counter and taking your seat at the bar.

“You say that twice a month,” Mori grumbles, setting your drink down and sliding the coin into his huge, calloused hand.

“It’s true twice a month.”

“It’s true half as much as you think.”

“I found her.”

Mori’s dark brows raise. It makes his gruff face look slightly less intimidating. “The lady from that old case you're into?”

“Yeah,” you beam, seizing your drink and leaning forward. “Started going through marriage certificates, and –”

“You’re telling me that your big-shot Ministry intern arse has been working this thing for a month and you didn’t even check marriage certificates?”

“Not Muggle ones,” you smirk.

Mori takes a glass off the bar and starts to clean it as he peers at you. “Go on.”

“She married the same guy her brother murdered, Mori,” you breathe, glancing around to make sure none of the shady denizens of Moribund’s are listening – it’s not like the bar's regular patrons are so welcoming to your big-shot Ministry intern arse on the best of days considering you’re half-way down Knockturn Alley in the dead of night. “They fucking ran away together!”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Mori mutters.

“Exactly!”

“What are you going to do about it?”

You shrug, taking a sip of your drink and feeling supremely pleased with yourself.

“What, you spent that much time investigating this thing for no reason?”

“Nah,” you say quietly, lips still in a smile. “I have a feeling there’s more to it than this. I still have to find out what happened to her after they got married and her brother murdered his new in-laws.”

“And what’s this guy’s name again?”

You give him a dry look. “You know I can’t tell you names, Mori, I’m pushing the bounds of my contract telling you this much already.”

He shrugs his massive shoulders, casting a wary look around the dark bar. “If you’re looking for people who might know a thing or two about murderers and Muggle-haters, you’ve come to the right place.”

“I’m here to talk to you, Mori, not the murderers and Muggle-haters.”

“You’re here to drink cheap and rant to someone who won’t rat you out to your boss,” he growls.

You give him another grin. “Cheers to that.”

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

You find Merope’s name in a record tome of an old church parish almost by accident. There’s barely any information there, just one name on a huge list of those buried in the pauper’s graveyard less than ten blocks from where you’re sat amongst the looming shelves of the Muggle public archives at that exact moment.

But there is something.

It says she died in a place called 'Wool’s Orphanage' on New Year’s Eve in 1926. It’s not hard to guess why she might have been there, and how she probably died.

Merope Gaunt had a child.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

❶·❷·❸·❹·❺·❻

Reply/message me to get added to the tag list! 💖

[lostinfinity1]

Theory time : Trash of the count’s family

As usual, it’s pretty long.

And I don’t think I ever got a theory right. So if you don’t want to read a lot, skip it. Spoiler until chapter 480 of the light novel and a few things that I was spoiled. (I know, I still have a long way to go with 700+ chapter having been released, but the idea just kept coming back in my head and I was trying to not work on other things. So, I procrastinate to write this and to flee the tiny humans visiting who wanted to keep playing with me until exhaustion.)

Theory: Cale Henituse aka Kim Rok Soo ‘s soul/ heart is someone from the ancient time.

Why? There are a few things that caught my attention while reading the first 480 chapter.

I first thought about it because the ancient powers’ behaviour surprised me a little.

1.      The little hints in the ancient powers

               a.      The way the ancients power saved the “water of judgment”.  They burned a whole area in the North, created an epic mess and saved/ freed someone in the process. When I read about that crazy plan, I thought: that is something Cale would do. And the more I thought about it, the more I am certain Cale would have done something like that had he lived in that time. Create a big mess to save someone.  

            b.      The ancient powers personalities. Don’t they seem like crazy people that would gather around Cale had they lived in the present time? Also, Cale kept wondering if the Cobblestone was human since he killed so many monster in the tunnel between the two continent next to his villa. But if the ancient powers were not all human, it would parallel Cale present time where he befriends so many different races that look up to him. And while they worked together to save the water ancient power, they seemed to have split later on since they all died alone and they did not all seem to be friends.

                                          i.     It made me think of another theory, if the one person (Cale original self per example) they gathered around together died or disappeared (Cale is the heart of the group in this present time too), it wouldn’t surprised me that they would split. And that would kinda explain why the fight was so complicated that all evil and all heroes died if the strategist had died beforehand and that the core members had died while branching out.

               c.      The way the scary cobblestone kept asking: do you want to sacrifice yourself. Now we know that he wasn’t doing it to scare him (well maybe a little), but because he was worried and wanted to protect him. But what if he was asking and being worried because he and the other power knew his self-sacrificial tendencies from back in the days (and that they failed to protect him maybe)?

              d.      Cale can hear the ancient power while others who have ancient powers don’t. It was said that it was because the power didn’t fuse with him properly, but it might have been a subconscious choice from him. Cale also chose to not to fuse with them to keep hearing them. The reason could be because while he doesn’t remember them, he subconsciously didn’t want to lose them again.

                e.      The reason Cale was so lucky to find all five ancient powers could be because they all wanted to be found by him. Why? To protect him. They were all on the same side of the war. None of the powers are the ones that the white star or his subordinate had. I know most of them came from the Birth of a hero book from Nelan Barrow but (SPOILERS that I found out that happens later in the series, be warned, 600+ chapter ?) it was said that the current god of Death could be the first Choi Aka Nelan Barrow. He was also part of the group of heroes from that time since he was the only survivor of the last battle because he was protected by the Scary cobblestone. If he had known about the original Cale, he could have written about them for Cale to find because he knew they would have wanted to protect him. Remember that some ancient powers in the book were mentioned, but never claimed. That itself is pretty weird unless it was on purpose. And Nelan Barrow might have written down only the powers that he knew that Cale had met, if he had met the ancient power after they had split since I don’t think they say at what time exactly he arrived in ancient time. It could be before, in, or after the war.

               f.       The world tree hint. Chapter 172 I think : “There were people like you whom I could not see their pasts nor futures. I could only see tiny glimpses of their near future.” And later. “– The owners of the ancient powers were just like you. I could not see them. (…) I couldn’t see through the arsonist nor the rock for brains.”

 2.      Cale ability “record”.  I have a theory that the ability people awakened in his version of Earth are things or power that they either consciously or subconsciously wanted. Like his team leader embrace that stem from his desire to become an actor in the past. The ability to “record”, thus remember things, might stem from him subconsciously wanting to remember people in this time since he forgot (because of reincarnation probably) his past life (or lives).

 3.      The Henituse motto. "There is no reason to be recorded in history. Live for peace and happiness instead." The key word here is “recorded”. Knowing Cale’s ability, this sentence hits differently. What if the Henituse family had ties to Cale’s earlier life (ves?) ? Or was created by him at one point in time if he had more than one incarnation? It’s an old, selfless noble family that ended up protecting people from the forest of darkness while quietly living their life. The motto is essentially how Cale wishes he could live. I always thought it was fishy when I read it. The first incarnation of Cale may or may not have had the record ability though, but may reflect Cale’s desire not to known as a hero or recorded as one. However, the two sentences still hold true to what Cale wants and desire, especially if he lived in the troubled/war time that was the ancient times.

 4.      The birthday conundrum. It seems the Choi of the past and present and Kim Rok Soo share the same birthday. It might be the “link” that allowed the Choi and Cale to transmigrated into the birth of a hero world. But I wondered something else, what if (Spoilers again like earlier, so 600+ chapter spoilers that I saw online) the link was more subtle or emotional. If the first Choi, Nelan Barrow, chose that day, his own birthday, to incarnate people to protect someone. Kim Rok Soo friend, the nephew of Choi Han, ended up dying to protect Kim Rok Soo. Choi Han is currently acting as Cale’s sword. Nelan Barrow, possibly the god of death, is using Kim Rok Soo to save the world, maybe 2 worlds since he was also a hero on Earth.  Anyway, the God of death seems like a complicated story that will get worse as it goes on.

 5.      Cale’s aura. The fact that people keep mistaking him for dragons/demons/some sort of other being. He could be related to the gods or be a divine race, or just a human favored by nature (and possibly his past friends that had a close affinity to nature such as the ancient powers). It points toward the fact that Cale is someone special in any case.

 6.      SPOILER Chapter 600+. Cale’s mother from the Thames family has a time/fate? Ancient power. The Thames family also gathered information about transmigrator and the sort. So there is definitively something going on on that side that has yet to be revealed.

 7.      Raon power is the present. It sounds like a strange power and, as of chapter 481, he hasn’t really used it yet. I kept wondering why he had that power. But if Cale’s time is related to the past, maybe Raon is going to be needed to secure is time in the present or something of the sort. But I feel like his power is a clue to the events to come.

 8.      Cale time is warped according to the white star. That itself doesn’t say much, but (SPOILER Chapter 600+ that I saw) Original Cale had not his time warped apparently. I am wondering if it’s because Kim Rok Soo transmigrated or if it’s actually because it’s is soul/heart that is from the ancient time.

 9.      Cale/Kim was supposed to die, but didn’t according to the god of death. His friend from Earth weren’t supposed to die, it seems. Kim Rok Soo was supposed to die, but it was never cleared when he was supposed to die. It could mean that he was supposed to die in the past, the ancient time kinda past. Yet, he is here now. I also find it weird that his past team leader on Earth took the time to explain to him, he who can remember everything, how is special ability, Embrace, work when it was not standard to talk about them. I also wonder a lot about him since he was the first one to find Kim Rok Soo and that he was one of the first to develop an ability, but that’s off topic.

 Well, that’s all I could think off.

I’ll keep reading the novel when I get more time and probably think how a fool I was to write this. Bah, Tumblr is the land of fools. It would not be the first time I am completly wrong about something. And this novel is pretty good at being hard to predict.

[kathrynalicemc]

Phoenix Resistance Reread & Writers BTS

Here we go kids! Every so often I’m going to do about 5 chapters where I reread them and explain some bts or talk about my fav moments etc. I’m only going to do the chapters I’ve written so I’ll be skipping chapters. Also I’ll be tagging this as #pr spoilers if you want to blacklist it if you haven’t read it yourself yet!

Chapter 1: The Wedding

Alright here it is, the first ever chapter. This chapter and the whole PR fic hinged on the fact that I got this idea to write the wedding in Devon’s pov on August 1st, which was the exact date it happened which gave me the idea to write a real life timeline fic. If I hadn’t had this idea on the exact date, this never would have happened.

First Thoughts: GOD this sucks. I have nine months experience in writing and I know I’ve gained skills because I absolutely hate the tenses I use. The first like 5-8ish chaps I always flip between past and present tense. Hate it, thanks.

Favorite moment: I love the part where Devon gets disoriented by all the panicked thoughts in her mind. There’s a few moments during the entire PR fic that I made sure to try to show just how much she can get mentally incapacitated when she’s in large crowds where she has trouble shutting out the voices of everyone.

BTS: There isn’t much here I can talk about being behind the scenes or like little hidden Easter eggs. However, one thing I wish I had included more in the fic I never got around to was Devon’s family. I don’t think they ever actually show up in person again oops.

Chapter 2: Picnic in Paris

It’s Henry’s birthday chapter!! This also worked well to drop some Devon backstory.

First Thoughts: This is short oof. Also can you tell that dialog is my weakness? I still suck at it but this is barely anything. However I do like that it’s a happy time right after the war started. It hasn’t gotten sad yet!

Favorite Moment: Hmmm I love the backstory of Devon’s old childhood home and the forest she used to play in. Anyone who has read her profile knows what happened there but even if you haven’t, you will find out close to the end of PR. I reference the forest a few times near the end.

BTS: I guess this fits into what I was just saying. If you didn’t know, Devon was playing pretend witch as a kid in the forest during the first war (because she’s a muggleborn and didn’t know magic was real), and a Death Eater killed an Auror in front of her and then attacked her cuz she was a witness. This caused her to have the lichtenberg scars and to lose her hearing.

Chapter 3: Wings & Wine

Here comes the boy!! This is when I found out that Kaari Arcano was only a year older than Devon and that they could have been friends at Hogwarts so obviously I could bring him in to help. Who wouldn’t want a dragon rider on their side? Also I had written this before I started PR and realized I could use it. I just fixed it up a bit.

First Thoughts: Even tho I use present tense here when the rest of the PR is later in past tense, I still really love this chapter. I’m proud of it and it’s longer than the others.

Fav Moment: Obviously it’s Kaari’s personality and Ryoko and Nym being cute. They are all my best bois ok.

BTS: Ok this chapter does have some bts I can talk about. The secret of the Gadea wine. I was going to explain it in a future chapter but never got around to it. Basically the coded intel Devon receives is written on the inside of the wine bottle label of a random bottle in a shipment. This whole fic idea of smuggling intel was inspired by a Star Trek Voyager episode. Basically I never talked about it again because I couldn’t think of what Emily Gadea would be sending to Devon as she lived in Spain away from the war oof.

Chapter 5: Back To Hogwarts

I debated for a long time if I was going to write this. I knew I didn’t want to write two entire storylines because I could barely write one. I fully wasn’t going to keep writing the Hogwarts students POV but I decided to do a one off chapter because why not.

First Thoughts: This honestly isn’t a bad chapter. Again I wish I could have done more chapters of them being rebellious at school but I would have died if I did both.

Fav Moment: I love writing absolutely feral Aimee. It was really fun. However writing canon characters terrified me (which is why barely any canon characters are in PR). I also really loved taking the canon scene from the movie and expanding it hehe.

BTS: Don’t have much for bts. I guess this is when the Phoenix paper was brought up and introduced the concept.

Chapter 6: The Spy

ENTER GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSS ELOISE YAXLEY! Love this one a lot.

First Thoughts: I loooove this one. Basically any chapter with Lou is my fav, even tho she’s so hard to write as I am not nearly as clever or cunning as she is.

Fav Moments: I love how this chapter introduces and sets up Eloise even if you haven’t read her profile or know her as one of my OCs. I also really love her symbolism with roses. They are in almost every chapter she’s in. My other fav thing is that this is a good way to show the canon HP events playing in the background but PR never really interacts with it as this is its own story.

BTS: The roses as Eloise’s method of delivering codes is really fun and kinda sad. I made sure that almost everyone in PR who sends Devon intel has a different means of hiding it. Kingsley later on uses bread.

[themaribatpit]

Jasonette July Day 9: Pixie

Written by: The Maribat Pit  @jasonette-july-event

Prompt: Pixie

Rated: T

(By popular demand, a slight continuation of Game On @aespades, @certainmuffinbagelcalzone.)

A/n: Edits have been made because I noticed the paragraph errors AFTER posting this.

Marinette was really starting to miss the days of working with Chat Noir at that moment, and that was saying something.  “Bugaboo” and “My Lady” were starting to feel more tolerable when she wasn’t being called that every second of the day.  Being called “Pixie” regardless if she was Ladybug or Marinette, was really starting to get old, fast.  For reasons that she could not understand, that’s what Jason insisted on calling her.  Sure, she was a lot smaller compared to him, but that coupled with needing to hang back and let Red Hood and Arsenal deal out the heavier hits was starting to get on her nerves.  She was just as experienced as them, she had a mentor just like they did, and had been saving lives for just as long as they had.  Ever since she had joined them, she thought that she would be fighting alongside a team again.  Now she was either supporting them or using her sewing skills to add improvements to their suits.  She was in good hands, some might say hands that were a little too good.  All this frustrated her to no end because she liked Jason, she would have thought that someone who had been a vigilante from a young age would understand what it felt like to be constantly underestimated. 

“Unbelievable,” she snapped one night as she came home from another mission.  She pulled off her pink flats and threw them across the room as she entered her apartment.  She didn’t even get the chance to use her Miraculous, she was effectively closely guarded bait on that last mission.  She slumped on the bed in frustration and Tikki hovered over to her, her antenna drooping in concern.  “Some days I want to wipe that smile off of that stupid face, just to prove I can.” Marinette grumbled into her pillow.  She didn’t hate Jason, she knew that there was some good in him.  Roy was the more optimistic and cheerful of the duo, like Jason, he had also been mentored by a more experienced hero.  Jason was a lot more reserved and cynical by comparison, though he wasn’t a complete Ice Prince like his brother Damian. 

“Maybe it’s because they’ve been doing this for a little bit longer.” Tikki suggested, after Marinette complained about it for the umpteenth time.

“Batgirl and Black Bat are only a few years younger than me,” she reminded her, “and there’s no doubt that they could hold their own in a fight.  No one gives them stupid nicknames, just shortened versions of their real names out of costume.” Tikki awkwardly scratched the back of her head.  “I bet you that he barely remembers what my real name is.” Marinette was getting increasingly furious at the thought “it’s always ‘Pixie this’ and ‘Pixie that’. I know I’m shorter than him, but I have taken on giant robot dolls, literal monsters, and I once rode a dragon!” Marinette yelled. 

Marinette throws a pillow at Tikki, only for it to phase through her. “What does he think I do as Ladybug? Create Christmas presents with my Lucky Charm?!” 

 At this very unfortunate moment Jason happened to return back to their apartment with Roy in tow. “What’s got you riled up, Pixie Pop?” Jason quipped after seeing the frustrated look on her face. This was the last straw for Marinette, “Stop calling me that! Does it please you to demean me? Does it bring you joy to fucking bully me day in and day out?” Jason and Roy take a step back from Marinette’s outburst. Marinette continues “I have kept Paris safe ever since I was 13, I didn’t have the World's Greatest Detective or a Robin Hood cosplayer helping me. It’s always you two off saving the day while I’m the distraction. Do I have to remind you that I’ve beaten Robin and Red Robin?” 

 “So have we, right Roy?” Jason says look backwards to Roy. Roy meanwhile was slowly walking backwards with his arms up in surrender.

 “Don’t drag me into this please.” Roy pleaded. 

 Marinette continued her rant, “So why do you keep calling me Pixie Pop like I'm some pet or stuffed animal?” She storms up to Jason and pulls him down to her height by the collar. 

Roy sensed the tension and wanted absolutely no part in making it worse, “You know what? I’m gonna go get us some shawarma.”

Jason looked over at Roy “Really, Roy?” A slight scowl made it clear he knew Roy was essentially leaving him to face Marinette’s wrath.

“All I know is that they are open at four in the morning and I’m hungry, so I’ll be right back.” Roy said, and he left the room.  Just as he thought Roy was out of earshot, Jason heard sprinting down the hallway.  Roy had abandoned him to face the burning blue fire in Marinette’s eyes.

Marinette let go of him, she didn’t need them, she had made that absolutely clear. 

“I’m done,  I don’t expect you to understand what it’s like to be underestimated all of the time.” she muttered harshly, “to always be kept at arm's length, because no one trusts you to do anything right.”

Marinette had no idea just how deep her words cut him, and Jason couldn’t really blame her.  As far as she knew, compared to his brothers, he might as well just be ‘the one with the guns and leather jackets’.  He hadn’t really told her about what had happened all those years ago, he didn’t even like to think about it himself.  Roy was one of the few people who understood what he’d been through. It was true that both of them started out as sidekicks, maybe the red in their costumes helped them stand out from their mentor’s shadows.  Their time as young crime fighters had left their scars. They were blindsided when they found someone who had been a heroine since she was 13, and took to it with the same determination they had when they were younger, more innocent, more naïve. 

 As Marinette flitted around the room, gathering her things, every nerve in Jason’s body was screaming at him to stop her.   He reached out and grabbed her by the arm, trying not to think about just how small it felt around his hand.  “Look, I’m sorry,” he began. What could he say to her? That he knew exactly what that felt like? That the last thing they wanted was for her to end up like them?  That every hit they took in a fight was one that she wouldn’t have to, so that she wouldn’t turn out broken like they were?  The problem was she didn’t see them as broken, she saw them treating her like glass.  If she was put through the same ordeal, Jason had no idea what he would do.  If she shattered just like they did, then in a way, they would have failed her.  If she came out still whole, still brimming with light, then what did that say about them?

 Marinette pulled her arm away, “I’ll show you, then you’ll be sorry” she told him bitterly.  With her backpack in hand and shoes on her feet, she pushed past him and walked out the door.  

 Jason remains staring at the open door, regretting how he had treated her. He grew fond of her during their time together as ‘Red Arse Bug’.  She had a cute face, cute voice and she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. “Stupid, stupid” he says to himself, facepalm at each syllable. Even with the now hostile relationship with Marinette, he knew he had to follow her. He had to stop her from making the same mistakes he did, so that she would not become like him. He put on his helmet and left to search for clues as to where Marinette would go and what she would do.

 Marinette wandered through Gotham city, unsure what to do now that she stormed out of the apartment she shared with Jason and Roy. She felt like everyone belittled her, Selena did, and now so did Jason. She needed to do something eye-catching, to prove to everyone that she didn’t need their help.

As she wanders past the Iceberg Lounge, she gets a spark of inspiration. If she could take down the Penguin single-handedly, nobody in Gotham would doubt her ever again. With unyielding determination she calls out “Spots On” and turns to Ladybug, ready to take on one of the cruelest crime lords in all of Gotham. Ladybug walks up to the front door and kicks it down, sending the door flying and knocking any unfortunate goons behind it. Penguin’s gang whipped out their guns, tire irons, pipes and anything that could count as a weapon and were now charging in to stop the intruder. 

 Marinette swings her yo-yo to wrap around one of the goon’s ankles, before swinging him around crashing him into several others. A guard points his rifle behind Ladybug, she spins around, sending her yo-yo towards the gun and pulling it from his hands. As the guards begin to group up together in an attempt to minimise the effectiveness of her yo-yo, Marinette looks up and begins to smirk. She flings her yo-yo upwards and hooks it onto a chandelier. She yanks it down, sending the chandelier crashing onto the unsuspecting guards. 

 Marinette dusts her hands and proceeds to walk through into the main hall. She proceeds to kick down that door too, she is then greeted by The Penguin surrounded by his gang. “I’m taking you down Cobblepot.” She shouts, swinging her yo-yo as if it was a lasso, preparing for a fight.

 The Penguin stands up from the seat of his large chair. “What are all you idiots waiting for?” He shouts all around him. He points his umbrella at Ladybug, and begins shooting his umbrella gun. “Get her!” The penguin roars, at this cue every gangster charges at Ladybug. 

 Marinette gracefully dodges and weaves around Penguin’s army, knocking each one out one by one. Until only The Penguin remains, she wraps her yo-yo around his umbrella, easily disarming one of Gotham’s most wanted. She walks towards The Penguin, slowly unravelling her yo-yo in anticipation of tying him up and sending him to Arkham Asylum. 

 The Penguin takes out a little remote control from his suit pocket, “It's not over yet.” he snarls and pushes a button. At that moment the entire building shakes.

“Born on a Monday” a voice groaned, followed by another loud thud. “Christened on a Tuesday.” the same voice groaned. Then a giant hand shoots up from beneath the floor, “SOLOMON GRUNDY” roared the giant as it emerged from the floor. 

 Red Hood and Arsenal had been watching the fight from a careful distance outside the Iceberg Lounge.  “Well, she’s managed to take on Penguins goons just fine,” Arsenal observed through the small pair of binoculars,  “she’s certainly had plenty of time to get very creative with that yo-yo”.

Red Hood’s hand was still itching to reach for one of his pistols, ready to jump in at the first sign of trouble. “By the way, how was your shawarma?” he asked sarcastically.

Arsenal looked over at him, raising an eyebrow “Hey, I’m not the one who said the one thing that just made her angrier, you were on your own there.”

“Nice to know you had my back.” he grumbled.

“Oh I do in a fight, you just decided to be an ass and poke the angry girl with a stick.” Arsenal pointed out.

Their banter was interrupted by an earth shattering thud, following a loud groan “Born on a Monday.” At that moment their blood ran cold. Red Hood and Arsenal rushed towards the Iceberg Lounge. Both worried for Ladybug and aware of what comes after that dreadful nursery rhyme. 

 “What are you two doing here? I can handle this.” growled Ladybug as Red Hood and Arsenal arrived. 

 Before either Red Hood or Arsenal could answer, they were interrupted by Solomon Grundy smashing the ground where Ladybug was standing. Ladybug gracefully dodged the punch, grappling onto a ceiling lamp to swing towards Grundy with a kick. 

 The giant grabbed Ladybug while she was mid-air and threw her towards her partners. Red Hood catches her, holding her tightly as the two fly across the room. He shields her from the shock, taking the brunt of the impact as they crash into the wall. 

 Red Hood groans “You okay?” Ladybug looks up to see she was relatively unharmed, but Red Hood had taken the brunt of the throw. Concern visible on her face as she sees Red Hood’s damaged helmet, and the bruised and bloodied face beneath.  

 Their quiet moment together was interrupted by Arsenal's cries for help. Every arrow he had in his quiver wasn’t making a dent in Solomon Grundy. Ladybug decides to cast Lucky Charm in desperation, and swings her yo-yo up. The ladybugs converge to form...a polka-dotted stick of dynamite. 

 “Arsenal!” She called. “Tie this to the end of an arrow, Red Hood and I will keep it busy.” She tosses the dynamite to Arsenal and tells Red Hood to tie Grundy down.

 Ladybug using her yo-yo grabs on to Solomon Grundy’s left arm while Red Hood uses his grappling hook to hold on to his right arm. Leaving Grundy exposed and immobile, giving Arsenal the opportunity for a clear unobstructed target. 

 Arsenal draws and aims the special Lucky Charm Explosive Arrow. The giant zombie growls “Arrow Boy no hurt Grundy.” 

 “Arrow Boy yes hurt Grundy” quipped Arsenal, before releasing the arrow causing a thunderous explosion into Solomon Grundy’s face. The giant slumps, Ladybug and Red Hood quickly release their hold and watch its body fall back into the hole in which it came from. 

 Solomon Grundy’s body lays motionless in the basement of the Iceberg Lounge as the three peer over the hole in the ground, “Let’s get outta here before the GCPD or worse, Batman arrive” Red Hood points to the front door, and the three of them leave the lounge to head back to their apartment.

As the three arrive home, they each find a nice comfortable spot to collapse onto. Jason claimed the sofa, slumped down Roy in the middle of the living room floor and Marinette sat at the dining table. “I vote for a week off.” groaned Roy.

“I second that motion” agreed Jason. 

“I still have design work to do.” Marinette told them, not really looking at either of them at that moment.  She was torn between appreciating their help, and frustrated that she hadn’t been able to handle the situation herself like she thought.

“Still that was one hell of a fight, and hey, you still managed to take on a squad of goons by yourself.”  Roy said, “I’m so proud” he said dramatically pretending to wipe away a happy tear. 

He nudged Jason in the leg, “um, yeah, good work” he said awkwardly, slightly lost in thought. Marinette smiled slightly, before turning her attention back to her little fairy friend perched on the table. 

“So does this mean Red Arse Bug is back together?” Roy asked enthusiastically, Marinette wasn’t really paying attention. 

The name still needed work, for one thing.  For once Marinette felt like her powers were being used in harmony with their abilities, but she wasn’t sure if it was a feeling that she should get used to.  Marinette could still vividly remember seeing Jason’s bruised and bloodied face beneath his helmet.  Jason stood up and walked over to the fridge, looking for ice to dull the swelling on his face.

“Not with that name,” Jason grumbled, not entirely sure if Marinette was willing to stay after their argument.  Someday, somehow, he would tell her the full story of what happened to him.  Right now, that was a whole Pandora’s Box that he just wasn’t prepared to open.  Nestled at the bottom of that box was hope, a hope that no one else would meet that same fate.

“...Lucky Shot?”  Marinette suggested as she carried Tikki over to the sofa and sat down.  Both Jason and Roy looked up, it made some sense, seeing as they both used projectiles and she had her lucky charms.  Jason tentatively made his way back to the sofa, ice pack in hand.

“Sounds better than ‘Red Arse Bug’.” Jason remarked, as he sat back down. 

“Well, let’s see if our little adventure made the news” Roy said, as he reached for the TV remote.  Jason tuned out Vicki Vale’s voice as she reported on the fight that took place at the Iceberg Lounge. 

As Roy slept at their feet, Jason knew if they were going to continue working together as a team, they couldn’t keep her in the dark any longer.  

“Hey Marinette.” Jason speaks softly. Marinette's ears perk in surprise, hearing speak her name for the first time. “I’m sorry, for what I said and how we treated you. You’re right.” He gestures to the sleeping Roy on the floor, “Both of us started out as sidekicks, we both grew up in the shadows of Batman and Green Arrow. Both old men with impossibly high standards, everything we did was never enough.”   Marinette listened intently as she shuffled closer to him on the sofa.  “We’ve both been to hell and back, Marinette. Literally in my case.” he explained, Marinette glanced down at Tikki for a moment, as if silently asking if her magic was somehow involved in this.  “But always remember, we have each other’s backs, just like The Three Musketeers.” Jason told her, Marinette giggles at his literary reference.

“Roy’s Porthos, you’re Aramis, I guess that makes me D’Artagnan.” Marinette chimes. Jason loved to see that hopeful smile on her face.  What scared him the most was the idea that something or someone would try and take that away from her.  They couldn’t keep treating her like glass, and they couldn’t keep treating her like a sidekick if they wanted to keep her from making their mistakes.  They were all going to fight like hell to make sure this world didn’t break her the way it broke them.  Marinette leaned in close and rested her head on his shoulder.  He felt her calm even breathing, fanning his neck as she slept peacefully at his side.

[joshjacksons]

Joshua Jackson interview with "Mr Porter" (2021)

Minutes before Mr Joshua Jackson joins me in a booth for a Friday afternoon drink at a vibey hotel bar in Santa Monica, he’s confronted by his past. Or rather, a woman in her early twenties who is binge-watching Dawson’s Creek, the teen show about a close-knit group of high-school friends coming of age in a sleepy American town, which made Jackson incredibly famous between 1998 and 2003. The series, which also made household names of Ms Michelle Williams and Ms Katie Holmes, went off air 18 years ago, but is now streaming on Netflix, to the bemusement of Jackson, who played lovable rogue Pacey Witter. “This girl was like, ‘Are you...?’ And I’m like, ‘Yes, I am. He got old. I’m sorry to break it to you,’” he says, before ordering an iced tea and a charcuterie board to tide him over until dinner time. “It always surprises me when young people say they’ve just got into Dawson’s Creek. I’m like, ‘Is it a costume drama to you? Do you feel like you’re watching a historical documentary?’”

The idea of a Friends-style reunion episode or a Sex And The City revival feels equally far-fetched to Canadian-born Jackson, now 43 and wearing it well in a pale green linen shirt and tailored linen trousers by Oliver Spencer that complement his fading brown hair and Cali-tanned skin.

“I don’t know why you’d want to [bring it back],” he says. “Nobody needs to know what those characters are doing in middle age. We left them in a nice place. Nobody needs to see that Pacey’s back hurts. I don’t think we need that update.”

And Jackson doesn’t need Dawson’s Creek. From Mr JJ Abrams’ sci-fi series Fringe (2008-2013) to the Golden Globe award-winning The Affair (2014-2019), from Ms Ava DuVernay’s ground-breaking true-crime drama When They See Us (2019) to the recent Ms Reese Witherspoon and Ms Kerry Washington-produced Little Fires Everywhere (2020), he has commanded the small screen – with a collection of dynamic and diverse work – ever since.

His latest role as Mr Christopher Duntsch, the Texas surgeon convicted of gross malpractice when 33 of his patients were left seriously injured after he operated on them and two of them died, in chilling Peacock crime drama Dr Death, is only stepping his career up another gear.

“I’ve never played anyone irredeemable before,” says Jackson, who is joined in the eight-part series (based on the 2018 Wondery podcast of the same name) by Messrs Christian Slater and Alec Baldwin. “He is charming, gregarious and has a high-level intellect, but he’s also a misogynist, probably a sociopath, certainly a narcissist and a complete incompetent who is incapable of seeing himself.”

If Duntsch is terrifying, then Jackson’s portrayal is even more so. The artist formerly known as Pacey is virtually unrecognisable (thanks to prosthetics) in the opening scene, but the real challenge for Jackson was allowing himself to view someone who is so “spectacularly evil” as a human being in order to walk in his shoes. “It’s a more damning portrayal of the man to make him into a human being, rather than just make him the bad guy,” he says. “He really believes he’s the hero, he’s the genius and that he’s the victim, so once I got past my own judgment, all the other things fell into place.”

Jackson might have his pick of stellar roles – and challenges – now, but it has not happened by accident. Take it from someone who has been in the business since landing his first job aged 14 in Disney’s live-action movie series The Mighty Ducks, opposite Brat Pack alumnus Mr Emilio Estevez.

“You try to make it look like it happens accidentally,” he says, “but there is no way to do this and not be ambitious. I’d say I’m extremely ambitious because I’ve been doing this cutthroat job for nearly 30 years. I’m in the pay-off phase of my career now. One of the benefits of surviving for as long as I have is you get to learn from your own mistakes.”

Such as? “I wouldn’t say, ‘I wish I hadn’t done that,’ because it all becomes bricks in a path, but [after Dawson’s Creek] I was not choosy enough about the things I was doing. You get stuck. You start trying to perform the performance you think people are hoping to see you do. I was so used to working all the time that I just worked all the time. There was definitely a conscious moment in my mid-twenties when I realised I wasn’t really enjoying the work that I was doing. My manager at the time just said, ‘Take a breath. You’re burnt out.’”

The turning point came in 2005, when Jackson was offered a role in the two-hander Mr David Mamet play A Life In The Theatre, opposite Sir Patrick Stewart. “God bless him, Patrick could have made my life miserable because I had no idea what I was doing, ” he says. “I hadn’t been on stage since I was a kid and now I was in the West End in over my head. But it reminded me that I actually enjoyed being an actor, that it’s not about the red carpet or travelling around the world. What I really enjoy is working on good material with good people.”

It’s no surprise Jackson’s time on Dawson’s Creek led to a career crisis. From the ages of 19 to 24, he lived with his fellow cast mates in Wilmington, North Carolina, filming day in, day out, in an arrangement he likens to college. “You get to the end and they’re like, ‘Here’s your degree. Go live now. You’re an adult. Go out into the world,’” he says.

But most graduates don’t have to deal with global fame. “It’s transitory. You’re only ever cool for a moment and then you become much less cool. I was always pretty dubious about flatterers,” he says, recalling a time he was stung in London in the mid-2000s. “I went on a date in Hyde Park with a woman whose name I will not use – she was socialite-famous – and she was acting completely bizarre, looking over her shoulder the whole time. I came to find out that she had hired a photographer to follow us through the park and gave a whole story to the tabloids about how I was going to meet her family.”

It was his growing fortune, rather than fame, that caused Jackson the most anxiety. “Suddenly, at 19 years old, I was making more in a week than most of my friends’ parents would make in a year,” he says. “It was lovely to have the money, but it was that feeling of nobody is worth that kind of money. You feel like a fraud and it took me a long time to forgive myself for not being the thing that I was perceived as.”

Born in Vancouver, but raised in Topanga, California, until he was eight (before moving back to Vancouver following his parents’ divorce), Jackson bought his childhood home in 2001 and lives in it today with his wife, British Queen & Slim actor Ms Jodie Turner-Smith, and their 15-month-old daughter.

“My father unfortunately was not a good father or a husband and exited the scene, but that house in Topanga was where everything felt simple, so it was a very healing thing for me to do,” he says. Fast-forward to 2021 and his baby daughter now sleeps in her father’s childhood bedroom. “There was a mural of a dragon on the wall in that room that I couldn’t believe was still there, years later. The owner [who sold him the house] said, ‘I knew it meant a lot to somebody and that they were going to come back for it some day.’”

Becoming a first-time parent during a pandemic sounds stressful, but it afforded Jackson months at home with his wife and child that his normal work schedule wouldn’t have allowed.

“I now recognise how perverse the way that we have set up our society is,” he says. “There is not a father I know who works a regular job who didn’t go back to the office a week later. It’s robbing that man of the opportunity to bond with his child and spend time with his partner.”

Despite his obvious career ambitions, fatherhood has changed Jackson’s priorities in “every possible way”, he says. “It’s 100 per cent changed how I approach my work and my life. That has been made so clear to me in this past year. For me to feel good about what I’m doing day to day, my family has to be the central focus.

“There are plenty of things left for me to do, but now the thing that gets me excited is experiencing the world through my daughter’s eyes. I can’t wait to take her scuba diving. I can’t wait to take her skiing. I can’t wait to read a great book with her. I’m not worried at all she’ll be a wallflower. She’s been a character from the word go.”

Jackson met Turner-Smith, 34, two days after his 40th birthday. He had been single since his 10-year relationship with German actress Ms Diane Kruger ended in 2016. “I was not looking to fall in love again or meet the mother of my child, but life has other plans for you,” he says.

The couple met at a party. Turner-Smith was wearing the same The Future Is Female Ejaculation T-shirt Ms Tessa Thompson’s character, Detroit, wears in the 2018 film Sorry To Bother You. “That’s what I used to break the ice. I shouted, ‘Detroit!’ across the room. Not the smoothest thing I’ve ever done, but it worked. We were pretty much inseparable from the word go. It was a whirlwind romance and I can tell my daughter I literally saw her mother across a room and thought, ‘I have to be next to this woman.’”

A self-confessed “useless” shopper, Jackson gives his wife full credit for his current wardrobe. He is jewellery-free, apart from a wedding band and a gold signet “JJ” ring on his little finger (a present from his wife), and discovered tailored sweatsuits (by Stampd and Reigning Champ) in the pandemic.

“Jodie has influence in the way that a wonderful wife encourages you, through love, to dress well. She was like, ‘We’re going to throw away all the sweatpants from your past and I’m going to get you some that actually make you look like an adult male and you will still feel comfortable around the house,’ and I’m like, ‘What an amazing idea!’ Who knew you could get sweatsuits that actually look good on your body?”

Jackson’s style has evolved, he says, “from slovenly teen to it’s-nice-when-your-clothes-actually-fit-you”. The penny dropped after he auditioned for his former co-star Estevez, who was directing the 2006 Mr Robert Kennedy biopic Bobby. He said to me, ‘You only got this job because I know you. You came in here to play a very well-put together 1960s political operative and you’re wearing jeans and a hoodie.’

“I had to grow up a little bit. We are very much raised in Canada to never, ever show off, so it took me a while to recognise it’s OK to look good when you go out.”

Still, when you’ve grown up in front of the camera, “every pimple literally documented”, and lived (very successfully) to tell the tale, you can probably be forgiven for the odd fashion faux pas.

“I wore a silk Ascot to an event once in Paris and I still have nightmares about it,” he says. “I looked like Fred from Scooby Doo, but you live and learn.”