#as the one thing that was similarly keeping his soul together and breaking it apart burns to cinders below him

[disasterfandoms]

Meet My Dad || A Brock Reynolds x Carter!Reader Imagine

A/N: SO we were brainstomring in one of my discord groups about what would it be like if Full Metal had a daughter, and now it’s a thing where if i write this for @theysayitscrazy then @bravo-four-seal-team has to behave for a week. Also, this contains the ship Trent/Metal.

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TW: a tiny bit of smut (no nudity or graphic depictions), protective parent, murder threats

Taglist: @milfdeacon​ @bravo-four-seal-team​ @rebelwrites​ @chibsytelford​ @velvetcardiganbucky​ @jayhalsteadfan-2417​ @mrsmarvelous1995​ @madhare0512​ @galaxysanduniversesinmymind​ @iris-oaklee-carter-911oc​ @kobababy​ @i-love-scott-mccall​ @pinkrockstar19​ @supervalcsi​ @itsonautopilot​ @abby-splace​ @innerpaperexpertcloud​ @softi92​ @thelovelyleo23​ @jasonbabymama​ @peaches-1999​​

“Dad!” You yelled, walking into his house uninvited as usual. Did you really need an invite to the place you called home for the longest time, though? He wasn’t there, that was evident by his cat, Whiskers, still needing to be fed for the morning. You filled his bowl with kibble, petting the old boy who used to keep you company on dark and stormy nights. 

You walk further into his kitchen, seeing the note on the counter that said that he’d be back later. You write a note back, telling him that you’ll be at your boyfriends, and to call you later. You pet the cat once more, before leaving the home, suddenly nervous at the thought of your dad knowing about you and Brock, and your plan for them to meet.

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Full Metal came home a couple hours later, petting Whiskers and putting the groceries away. You and him had a weekly gumbo night, where you all eat and either watch a movie or play some games, getting your time with each other you two needed in in one night. 

He’s been a single dad for over twenty years, your mom having left him and you when you were just three years old. He bared no hard feelings, his life and job was complicated and she never truly wanted to be a mom. So, he took time to figure out how to parent you while being home all the time, and figured who’d watch you when he was away. You two made it work, and now you’re closer than ever.

He found the note, noticing your handwriting right away, and visibly paled as he read its contents. A boyfriend? Who? and when? He could have sworn you would have told him before now about any boy you were seeing. He needed to take a breath, calm down. You were a grown adult, with an apartment of your own and a stable job, it wasn’t the end of the world that his baby had a boyfriend.

He took a second, making sure his hands stopped shaking before he picked up the phone, dialing the oh-so-familiar number. 

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You were straddling Brock’s lap, your tongues colliding as you moved in sync. His lips had then attached to your neck, causing you to moan. Your hands were tangled into his hair, causing him to groan when you pulled it accidentally. His hands travelled down your back, resting just before the opening of your jeans. One hand slid up your shirt, his hands feeling rough against your soft skin, you giggling as he flipped you over, so he was on top. 

He opened your legs, putting his knee right next to your covered core, letting you grind against it as he continued his trail of kisses down your chest. He almost took his shirt off when you heard your phone ring, interrupting the fun that was about to come. You quickly grabbed it, groaning as it was your dad. Brock nodded in understanding, moving to lay beside you on the bed as you answered, “Hi Dad!”

“Y/N, you left a note. Boyfriend? Who the fuck are you dating? Why haven’t you told me about this guy beforehand?” Metal shot off at an impressive pace, not impressed that she told him this through a note, for fucks sake.

“I’m great! How are you, are we on for gumbo tonight? I brought him up because I thought about bringing him.” You said sarcastically, moving to snuggle up to Brock, who happily wrapped his arms around you, his leg intertwining with yours.

Metal was pacing in his living room now, rolling his eyes at the sarcasm he heard at the beginning of your response. “You want to bring him? To our tradition?” He asked, shocked you’d even consider it.

“Well, yeah, Dad, it’s just one gumbo night for you to meet him and get to know him outside of work. Besides, you bring Trent sometimes!” You retorted, huffing at the hypocrisy. You could hear Brock chuckling beside you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him.

“That’s different, it’s Trent!” He shot back, stopping his pacing as he was worried he was going to step on Whiskers. He then continued, “Trent’s being invited if you bring him. Wait,” he spoke, his mind registering what all you said thirty seconds ago, “Outside of work? HE WORKS AT DEVGRU?!?!?” He yelled, feeling his face getting hot with anger. One of those idiots is dating his kid?

You put the phone away from your ear, he’s always deafening when he’s angry. Brock kissed your shoulder, one of his hands moving up to grab your breast, massaging it gently, causing you to roll your eyes. “Yes, he works at DEVGRU. He’s on Bravo, with Trent. Invite him! You know I love T,” you say easily, your breath hitching as Brock continues to tease you.

Metal doesn’t even know what to reply to that. He’s full on having a meltdown. His kid, his sweet, caring, loving child is dating someone in Bravo. Oh, Oh god, They’re dating that cocky ass kid. “I gotta go, see you two tonight.” He said quickly, before hanging up without you getting a word in. He rubbed his face with his free hand, before calling Trent to come over.

“He hung up,” you said simply, putting the phone back down on the nightstand, before focusing on the man beside you. You adored him, not just physically, but the kind soul he has, and the willingness to do whatever was necessary to keep you safe and happy. You knew your Dad was a bit... much, but you hoped once he saw you two together, he would calm a bit. “Now, where were we..” you trailed off, giggling as he turned over onto you, starting where you both had left off.

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Trent was a little worried when Full Metal called him, panicking at the apparent fact that Clay was dating his kid. Trent had been around you since you were a little kid, becoming very close to Metal as they started working together at DEVGRU. 

He was incredibly amused at the fact that Metal was having a meltdown while simultaneously starting the gumbo for the night. He wouldn’t interrupt the man, he’s just here to listen and watch his friend chop and cook everything the gumbo needed ingredient wise, while yelling at how Clay was too arrogant foe his own good. 

“Of course Y/N would go out with him. Why go for one of us, anyways?” he asked rhetorically, chopping up the andouille sausage, probably imagining it was Clay’s.. well... you know.

“Because they were raised by you? And surrounded by a Naval influence their entire life?” Trent shot back, chuckling as Metal glared at him. Man, if looks could kill...

“Scott, take a breath. You raised Y/N well, they must see something in Clay to not only go out with them, but to want to introduce him to you,” Trent tried to reassure the man, who this time took a deeply breath and nodded.

“I just don’t want them to get hurt,” he spoke quietly, shaking his head at the thought. You were his child, his only one at that, he hated seeing you cry, especially over some dumb ass kid.

Trent nodded, standing up to go over to him, rubbing his back. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t need to. He’s helped Scott raise you since you were a kid, he felt similarly about keeping you safe.

They were silent for a while, before Trent felt like he needed to reassure Scott one more time. “Tonight will be fine, you’ll meet the boyfriend, be polite tonight and then tomorrow you can threaten all you want,” he offered up, and it worked, as he saw Scott smile for the first time today.

“Come tonight?” Metal asked, he didn’t want to have to deal with this alone. Plus, he could just have it on his head that this is just the team hanging out and you just so happened to be there.

Trent nodded, smiling at the offer. He knew Scott needed someone here with them to keep him calm, and he was secretly hoping he’d ask him to stay anyways, the guy makes a mean gumbo.

——————————

It was three hours later, and Brock was suddenly incredibly nervous. He knew Metal was going to kill him, especially because it was his only kid that we’re talking about. He was in love with them, though, so he guessed he’d make it work.

“It’s going to be fine, Dad’s just a big teddy bear,” you reassure him, watching him chuckle nervously. You smiled, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. Your boyfriend may be a man of few words, but it was no secret he was worried about your dad’s reaction.

The silence was comfortable as he drove you both towards your childhood home. He was quiet, taking in the site of the place where Metal raised you, squeezing your hand when he heard you take a shaky breath.

“Hey,” he said quietly, catching your attention as you were getting lost in your worries. “I love you, Y/N/N.”

You smile brightly, saying “I love you too,” before he pulls you in for a kiss, all and full of adoration. He breaks away for a few moments, kissing your nose in the process, causing you to giggle.

You lead him up the steps to the front door, noting that Trent’s bike was in it’s usual spot. You smiled a little, happy your dad’s boyfriend was here to enjoy the chaos. You whispered to Brock, “I told you my dad and Trent were together, right?”

Brock’s eyes widened, shaking his head. Oh, this was going to be fun, he thought, before taking a deep breath. You smile at him, before opening the door, going into your family home, which was warm and the smell of the spices in the gumbo. You picked up Whiskers, who was hanging out in the cat tree by the entryway, and said to Brock, “This is Mr. Whiskers, he used to keep me safe when it was storming and Dad was on a mission.”

Brock saw the way your eyes lit up with you saw the cat, and his heart melted a little bit. He pet the furry creature, personally he wasn’t a fan of cats but he couldn’t help but pet him. 

You put him down, taking his hand as you guide him further into the home, yelling, “T, Dad! We’re here!” You give his hand a squeeze, bringing  him to the living room. 

Trent came out from the living room, smiling as he saw you with... Brock. “Hey kid,” he hugged you tightly, before finally breaking, laughing hysterically at the fact that it was Brock you were with.

Oh, this was going to be fun. 

Metal left the kitchen, hearing his boyfriend of five years laughing hysterically. He walks in, seeing Trent doubled over in laughter, looking at you, smiling. “Hey baby,” He spoke softly, opening his arms for a hug, looking at who she brought with her, completely expect Clay, and not... Brock?

“Brock? Dog boy? Seriously?” He asked, causing Brock to laugh a little bit.

You backed away from your Dad, going to your boyfriend, who immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You shot back, “Well, yeah? Who else would I have gone for, Sonny?”

Oh, yeah, that broke Metal. 

He just stared at you two, trying to form words, but his brain was short-circuiting. Trent was in tears, laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. “Didn’t.... see that...coming,” he finally got out, grabbing onto Metal’s shoulder yo hold him up.

“I thought you were dating Clay,” your dad said slowly, shaking his head at the fact you brought the weird one home... typical.

You look at him confused, “No... Brock and I have been together for almost a year,” you tell him gently, smiling as your feel Brock kiss your forehead. You leaned into him for comfort, worried about what your dad will say.

“I... alright,” he sighed, smiling as Trent kissed him on the cheek. Trent was proud of him being calm, and not threatening your boyfriend. In reality, he was planning Brock’s death a very violent way, and where to hide the body.

The night went smoothly, a little too smoothly, if you were honest. Everyone ate and had a good time, the night ending with each Carter cuddled up to their significant other, watching a horror movie.

Brock had went to start the truck after the movie was over, letting you to hug your dads. “Thank you,” you whispered, smiling at Metal.

“what for?” he chuckled, letting go so you could hug Trent.

“For being nice to him, and not threatening to kill him,” you chcuckled as you hugged Trent, who went back to having his arms wrapped around Metal when you let go. Metal nodded, as you said goodbye, not knowing his plans for in the morning. 

“You did good, babe,” Trent mumbled, kissing his cheek before making sure the food was away, getting ready to go to bed.

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All was quiet on the base the next morning, the hustle and bustle of the military operation at it’s usual pace. All of Bravo trickled in one by one, no one understanding the scene in front of them as they entered the cage room.

In front of Brock’s locker, there was a hatchet, a bag of lye, and a shovel; along with a note which was written in, what looked like, blood.

“Brock,

You hurt my kid, these tools will be used in removing you from the situation. The hatchet will be used to cut you up into bite-sized pieces for Cerberus to enjoy. What is left of you will be dissolved by the lye, and you will be buried where no one can find the evidence. 

They’re my child, I will do whatever it takes to make sure they are happy and safe.

I’m watching you.”

Bravo watched Brock visibly pale as he read the note, causing Trent to smile, shaking his head at his boyfriend’s antics. He should have known last night was too calm, that Metal was being polite because Y/N didn’t want their father to be overprotective. 

Oh well, at least Brock understood now the consequences if he fucked up.

[feminaexlux]

Fall to Me

TBH I realize belatedly after writing this that Truth was fomenting chaos in my soul and it needed to be taken the fuck out with a proverbial shotgun

Anyway here's a fic that was based off of Truth and without knowledge of the rest of S4 so far, just in case nothing makes sense

I also know I promised smangst (smut + angst) but I got tired/lazy and @mintaka14 posted something I felt was eerily similar (or just reminded me I needed to get this done) so I wanted to get this out the door

Read on AO3 here!

Rated M for language I guess?

⁂

Luka was in a precarious situation. He was lying half-naked on Marinette's chaise, with Marinette herself lying half-naked on him. She let out a quiet sleepy giggle when she brushed her thigh against his raging hard-on, still unfortunately trapped under his over-tight jeans. His neck felt sore where she'd bitten him and he figured there'd be a pretty obvious bruise there soon.

His chest was also similarly marked.

He woke up like this. He had woken up when he had needed to sneeze because some hair got all up in his face. He then realized he had a whole-ass person on top of him. And that person was the girl he had been in love with for years. He had gently brushed away her hair and she had hummed out a "Mmmm, Luuuuka," that got him hot-and-bothered and unable to go back to sleep. He kinda didn't want to wake her in fear of this whole precarious situation blowing up in his face.

⁂

This all started a week ago with Dingo, that fucker. Well, sort of. Maybe. Maybe that was all circumstantial. But Dingo had 2 extra tickets to The Bondsmiths and Ding had given them to Luka. Juleka was busy with stuff, his Ma wasn't into this newfangled noise, Ivan wouldn't go without Mylene, Mylene was in Spain on vacation, Rose was "stuff," and if Dingo was involved most of Luka's other friends wouldn't be.

He'd just thrown it out into a group chat "Hey I have an extra ticket anyone want to come?" and Marinette was the one that said "me~!" Luka and Dingo had a tense stare off when Dingo handed over the tickets.

Her? Dingo's sharp brown eyes seemed to say.

Luka stared back coolly. Yes. We're friends.

Dingo fucking smirked. How much longer, eh? Cheers, mate. He gave the tickets to Luka with a smarmy wink.

The night of the showing Luka got stuck being the designated driver. He was used to it. The concert area was indoors and packed. Ding almost got shitfaced and Brielle had to keep him from falling over. At least the sets were fantastic. When the concert was closing at around 02:34 Ding and Brielle were having sloppy disgusting make-outs, making both Luka and Marinette ever so slightly uncomfortable.

That was when it all started getting weird. Weirder.

Brielle came up for air and told Luka that she and Ding would take a cab back, so all Luka would need to do was drop off Marinette. Luka shrugged and did just that, but Marinette invited him up to crash at her place because it was already so late and he looked so tired. He was about to pass on that when Marinette mentioned that her parents were on vacation in China and wouldn't be back for a whole month, just… out of the blue.

Before he could formulate any sort of coherent response she took his hand and pulled him up the stairs to the living room, sat him on the couch, started brewing some chamomile tea for the both of them, and talked about the concert. Marinette smiled at him after handing him a mug and short-circuited his brain again. "That was fun!"

"I'm glad you enjoyed," Luka smiled back, sipping his tea.

She sat down next to him and brushed her hair back over her ear. A shiny black earring seemed to glimmer with the light it caught. "I'm really glad I was able to go with you."

His head was empty except for noticing the light blush she had on her cheeks. She looked up at him with her big blue eyes, and somehow Luka got the sense that she was… expecting something? Oh, a response, duh. "Same. It's always nice to hang out with you."

She smiled, drank the rest of her tea and set it aside. "Luka, can I kiss you?"

… What? Wow, alright he was tired. He thought he heard her ask him if she could kiss him. He was already in the half-asleep pseudo-dream state and probably imagined that whole thing. Goddamn he was such a simp for her. "Heh," he said noncommittally.

Marinette blinked at him. "Is that a… a no?"

"Hmm?"

She scooted closer to him and he took a big gulp of his tea to hide his nervousness. "You… don't want me to kiss you?"

Oh God he heard that correctly. He sputtered and coughed, covering his mouth with a fist. "Wh-what?" He blushed hard.

She blushed as well. "Sorry! I'm sorry. I-I-I thought… um."

Several years ago they had tried to date but she'd always been… unavailable. So they kept hanging out as friends, which was… fine. It was fine. They'd never even gotten to really do anything together as a couple but as friends? It went better.

He wasn't over her. Never tried to convince himself he was. But he also honestly hadn't expected her to want to get back together. So… what changed? She sighed heavily, her complexion calming back down. "Nothing changed. Not really." She looked down toward the floor at her feet and he finally realized he asked that last thought out loud. "I… maybe I guess I did." She looked back up at him. "I've been thinking lately that I just want… to do something for me, for once. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" She trailed off and stared back at the floor.

"I've never stopped wanting to be with you." Oh shit he said it. She looked back up at him and he awkwardly took another swallow of tea and looked away. "Sounds bad. I guess it is," he said eventually.

"But you didn't tell me?"

He met her eyes. "You were happy. You were with Adrien. I can't force my feelings on you."

She took a breath and let it out slowly. "I was, yeah." Her words hung in the air.

Luka hadn't figured out what happened to break up the state of Adrienette, but when he came back from touring with Jagged, Marinette and Adrien were "just friends" again. Luka wasn't sure how long ago the split happened and after 2 or 3 years apart did he even know Marinette anymore?

She had welcomed him back to Paris as a more grown up Marinette, not actually so different than he had remembered her. She had more confidence, less anxiety, a spine of steel. She was in charge of herself and it was so good to see her so sure.

He didn't want to mess that up for her in any way. So they remained friends for 2 more years. And for one reason or another they both kept being single.

He had somehow reintegrated back in her inner circle of friends. Luka saw for himself that Marinette and Adrien had a lot of history in their little in-jokes and double talk, dropping code phrases and making each other laugh at random. Maybe they'd reignite that spark and Luka didn't want to be caught in the resulting blaze. Even if they didn't, underneath it all he worried about being disappointed and left in the dark by Marinette like he'd been all those years ago.

Not that it did anything to change his attraction to her. He was a sucker for girls like her, except there had only ever been the one.

Marinette took his free hand and squeezed it gently. "I was happy, yes. And… I was hoping I could be again. With you?"

⁂

Slowly, Marinette thought, take it slow. She did spring this on him a little suddenly but hey, it felt right, and she had it on relatively good authority that it was time. At this point in her life she knew to trust her gut instinct and friendly advice. Although she felt more okay with this because her head was sliiightly impaired right now.

She also thought that he'd jump on… her, she supposed, given the opportunity - but he was uncharacteristically reserved. Was it uncharacteristic? Maybe not. He'd always been pretty laid back and easy going.

And observant.

Which meant he was thinking and had doubts about them. Well, shit. Okay. She didn't make it easy on them the last time they tried anything like this. Actually, Hawkmoth had made life difficult for her so there hadn't even been an opportunity for a them.

He sighed softly and squeezed her hand back. "I want… this. I do. But there's still something that worries me."

Alright, fuck going slow. "I'm Ladybug. I am now and I was then. That's why I kept disappearing." This was alright, it was kind of an open secret by this point in her superhero career. Her parents knew, her closest friends knew, and Luka was a close friend she wanted even closer, so he should know.

His mouth was slightly open and his eyebrows shot up. "Ah."

"Things are… okay now, aren't they? I'm not needed like I was before."

He smiled a little and his worried expression softened, understanding. "That… does explain a lot of things but that's not the only thing I was worried about."

That surprised Marinette. And actually now she started to worry herself. What other red flags had she given him? Shit. She'd been a basket case in her earlier teens but she'd left behind the Teenage Angst Things and graduated to Adult Things, hadn't she? Fuck.

He chuckled. "It's not --all-- a you thing, this is a me thing," he said.

"Oh please don't give me the 'It's not you it's me' talk when we haven't started anything," Marinette interrupted.

He snorted, putting down his empty tea mug on the table. "Yeah, I still want to give you some context," he continued. "First off, I'm not like Dad, I don't want to be a big rock star with all that baggage. I just wanna play music and do small gigs and have fun. I'm not gonna be rolling in money and I can't give you everything that you'd possibly want."

Marinette blinked. "I… already knew that?"

"Second, if you do want to 'start' things I promise you I'm not just going to let you go again."

Marinette bit back a smile. "Alright. Are we entering some kind of agreement here? Is this a pre-nup?" She stuck her tongue out at him.

"We're already getting married?" He laughed.

"Not if you don't want to kiss me!" He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers.

Soft, warm, simple. Real.

She placed her hands on his face and brought him in for another kiss, stopping him from pulling back all the way. "More," she breathed out.

⁂

"More?" Luka thought. It was… an odd ask but okay… He was sort of interested in more as well so why not? Except well, there were a few things clarified but he really meant to talk about things in detail before diving into… her mouth like he just did. Her fingers worked their way through his hair, her nails skimming across his scalp sending shivers down his spine. She gave back as much as she was receiving from him in their make-out and if he had to taste only one thing for the remainder of his life he'd want it to be her: sweet, warming, with notes of chamomile, bourbon, vodka, and rum.

This was getting a little too indulgent but most of him didn't mind. One part of him craved this from her, but… wait, shit. Bourbon? Vodka? Rum? She'd been drinking, dumbass. Shit. "Mm--" He tried to say her name to get her attention, maybe slow them down a bit -- okay, a lot -- but she had just leaned back on the couch and he was pulled down with her still relentlessly kissing him. "Mar--" he tried again, but she took that opportunity to take his bottom lip gently between her teeth. One of her hands went to his hips and she grabbed a belt loop and hooked a finger under his jeans, tugging him closer.

Oh boy.

He broke free from her a little reluctantly. "Hold on," he chuckled nervously after pulling back. "Wait a sec."

Her eyes went wide open and she froze. She pulled back her hands and stuttered out a "W-was that bad? S-Sorry! Oh I'm so--"

He pressed two fingers to her lips to stop the torrent of apologies. Apparently the penchant of apologizing for everything wouldn't change about Marinette even if she'd been drinking. "Marinette, you had a few drinks. I don't… I don't think…" He sighed, sitting back up.

"I only had 3?" Marinette squeaked.

"4. You finished off Brielle's."

"I-I think I'm pretty sober?"

"But you're not sure."

"I'm… sober enough, aren't I?"

"I'm not confident making that call."

"But I… I want this," Marinette said quietly but firmly. "I really want this."

The thought that kept mentally slapping Luka across the face was But will you still want this in the morning? Well. He had to be honest with himself. It was really Will you still want me in the morning?

Her knowing the general trajectory of his life and joking about marriage aside, she hadn't said anything about wanting him. Wanting a "this" and wanting to be happy again, sure. Having him along for the ride, sure. But actually wanting him and all he was? Still unclear.

And even if she said she wanted him, would he believe her? She'd been 14, yes, but she said she wanted to date and… never actually followed through, Ladybug duties aside. He sighed to himself. She hadn't been ready. That wasn't her fault. She couldn't tell him then.

But that time of being left behind didn't magically evaporate with an explanation.

He didn't think he was bitter or resentful but all of that was hitting him full-force now. Not again, his head warned him. Not again. You don't have to deal with that. And yeah, he didn't have to deal with that... Sometimes a heartbreak was worth braving.

He needed some time to think about if this was worth braving.

He felt Marinette shuffling at his side but he didn't give in to the temptation to look. He stared down at his hands, his elbows propped on his knees as he slumped forward.

"Can… Can I hear what you're thinking?" Marinette asked softly. There was a little bit of uncertainty in her voice. He didn't say anything for several heartbeats. "Luka?"

Well, at least she didn't call him Adrien. That was a plus. God that'd been once and it still left an awful taste in his mouth. "You should probably head to bed. We can talk later." Later. There was always later. Except he was tired of later. It'd been better when he didn't have to tell himself he could wait. It'd been better when he hadn't had anything to wait for.

Easier. Not better. He had to give her that.

"No," she said. "I'd like to talk now if that's alright. I'd like to… understand." Right, she was better at standing her ground. She wasn't 14 anymore. He wasn't 16 and naïvely hopeful anymore.

He probably wasn't going to sleep anyway. "I don't know how to trust you."

⁂

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Marinette felt the all too familiar cold panic settling on her shoulders like it always did. Of course he didn't trust her, she wouldn't trust herself fully now with how things played out back then. She was definitely getting a headache.

Fucking Cockmoth. Fucking Guardianship. Fucking… Adr--no, she made her peace with Adrien. They were past that now. Fucking… obligations and wrangling all those threads in her life to hold together. Marinette figured she was done with all that, but…

At the epicenter of all of these problems was her. She had to admit, it wasn't her fault but it became her responsibility to treat those around her as fairly as she could. And she hadn't been fair with Luka.

God, she spent hours staring at pictures of Adrien and drooling over every damn appearance. When she tried to get past the crush the whole universe was conspiring to push her to indulge it instead. And worst yet, she did indulge it while trying to date Luka! This was… she should have seen it coming. Who in their right mind wouldn't be at least a little bit wary of her intense obsession over Adrien in her formative years influencing her now? It defined who she was for a long time.

But she was different now, she grew up. She just needed to show it, right?

Wait. There was something about the way he said what he said. "You don't know how to trust me?" He nodded. "Do… do you at all?"

"Mostly." Okay, so there was still a tiny sliver of a chance? "I trust you with almost everything."

"Except?"

"Except me." He paused for a moment. "And you've been drinking."

But! But I… Yeah. "Okay." Her being slightly impaired did make things a little complicated. And maybe that was the reason why she was being a bit impulsive right now, the alcohol was fast-forwarding her decision making process. Marinette let out a breath she held in. "Will you stay here tonight?"

He raised an eyebrow but relented with a "Yeah."

"Come upstairs with me?"

He raised the other eyebrow as well, looking nervous. "Upstairs? To your room?"

"Yes, I wanted to--" It took a second but it clicked. What she asked didn't sound any less impulsive with how he probably interpreted that. "Oh I'm not going to seduce you or anything I just was thinking it'd be nicer for you if you were using my daybed instead of the couch here but I guess it could sound a little like I'm asking for sex which I'm not. I mean unless you consider making-out se--okay nevermind!" Wow, way to go, Marinette. Her face was burning with embarrassment. "I'll bring down a blanket!"

Okay, she had to admit it, she was definitely more than a little tipsy. She felt lightheaded when she stood up quickly. She tried to hide her disorientation as best she could as she walked away, heading toward the ladder leading up to the hatch. She'd been so focused on seeming not-drunk that she bonked her head at the top climbing up. "Ouch!"

"Are you alright?" Luka asked, and even tipsy Marinette could hear the puzzled amusement in his voice.

"I'm fine," Marinette muttered. She forced open the entry and it slammed open on the other side with a loud thunk. Fuck, she wasn't at all convincing him that she was sober. She slipped off her shoes and sat back down on her chaise/daybed, feeling incredibly embarrassed at herself. This was not at all going the way she hoped. He still felt betrayed at the things that happened when she was an idiot teenager. Should she have known? He never told her!

But he never told her because he never thought they'd get back together. That was obvious in the way he said all the things he said.

He did want to be with her. He did want her. But he'd been so hurt by what happened and… she never knew. No, of course she knew, he was akumatized by it. He'd carried that for so long and let her live her life without her knowing. Damn it, she needed to… she needed to make this right.

How could she make this right?

She was unsurprised as she felt the cool streaks of tears falling down her cheeks. In the morning, they'll talk. Ignoring the fact that it was already morning, she knew they both just needed to put this aside and get some rest for now. She heard shuffling and Luka making his way up the ladder. She quickly wiped her eyes.

"Hey, you doing okay?" He had a clear look of concern on his face, kneeling down in front of her. "Is your head hurting?"

"Oh no, sorry, I just spaced out."

"You hit your head that hard?" Luka asked, sounding even more concerned.

"No, no. I-I was… My head's fine, Luka." She sighed. "Just. Thinking, is all. Sorry, let me get the blanket."

He looked up at her a bit more keenly. "You've been crying." A simple statement.

"Yeah," Marinette said quietly, defeatedly. "But I'm okay." She pasted on a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She started getting up but he caught her attention and spoke with some hesitation.

"I don't need the blanket. I'm probably not going to sleep," he said with a half smile, sitting down on the floor in front of her. "Too much going on here," he tapped against his temple. "I'm guessing the same for you?"

"Yeah again," she said, smiling for real this time. "Can we keep talking?"

"We can. I thought it'd be better if you got some rest but sleep isn't coming for either of us anyway." The lights in her room were muted but she could see the bags forming under his eyes. He passed his hands over his chin, lightly scratching at the stubble coming in.

"I was really kind of… no, not kind of. I was awful when we dated before."

"You weren't awful. You just weren't there. I understand that you had Paris to save," he added quickly when she had furrowed her eyebrows. "But the fact remains that I wasn't able to spend any time with you. Juleka kept telling me to watch out and that you dated me only because Adrien wasn't available to date anymore. I was hoping you'd change your mind and you would want to be with me, but then you were making time for him and your other friends while I was left waiting. I'm a human being, Marinette, not a doormat. You forgot about me. It was miserable and I felt like shit. I almost regretted asking you out at all."

⁂

Ah, fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. There were none of his usual filters. He just spewed all that out there. It was all true but maybe he should've let it go? She was young and dumb, anyone at that age was capable of making stupid-ass mistakes. Luka himself made soooo many of them. It'd been like 5 years since their breakup, maybe he should just get over it already. Marinette was in his arms literal minutes ago and he had to go and get like this. And he made her cry again. Nice one, Couffaine.

This was the worst sort of crying. She went absolutely still with a solemn expression, being oppressively silent while the tears fell from her eyes. He felt his mouth go dry and he swallowed. "I--" he cut himself off.

Marinette nodded her head so slightly Luka almost didn't see the motion. "I didn't make time for you," she agreed, her voice tiny and broken.

He suddenly wanted to make a quip about knowing all about time and giving Second Chances to let them both recover but that would be disingenuous and corny as hell. He wasn't so sure he believed in them much anymore. And maybe the way this played out was better anyway, at the very least he needed to own what he said as he couldn't take back his words.

Marinette broke the silence. "I… I wasn't very happy with myself back then. I did make a lot of bad decisions. I didn't give you… much of anything I guess."

He smiled a little. "I still have that pendant."

"I could have given you more. I could have been doing so much more. And I didn't. I didn't," she repeated, a hitch in her voice.

Fuck. He could meet her halfway at least. "It sounded like you had a lot to deal with. You knew your friends better so it makes a lot of sense that you'd prefer to hang out with them. I was just some guy. The brother of a friend. I wasn't that important in the long run."

"Don't say that," Marinette cringed a little. She wrapped her arms around herself. "You were--are important. I was… I was scared. Of a lot of things. A lot of stupid things." She shivered slightly. "I was a little scared of disappointing you. I was scared that maybe I had used you to… make me feel better about myself. I was scared that you'd never see all of me. I was scared that Hawkmoth would use you against me and your family and Paris if you knew I was Ladybug and it happened anyway without you knowing about me. I was so stupid back then."

He sighed. "Hey, please don't beat yourself up. I didn't want to make you feel like you have to explain what happened in the past. I got too… wrapped up in how I felt back then. We didn't work out and that's just life." It hadn't been their time.

Did he still love her? Sure. But they'd been better off as friends. She even made a point of trying to hang out with him nowadays. She told him everything that was on her mind. She gave him small gifts here and there, made it to all of his gigs, invited him to all of her fashion showings. They saw the movies and concerts they wanted to see together. When she felt lost or sad he was the first one she reached out to.

As… friends?

There was this uncomfortable feeling tugging at the back of his mind. He felt it at the base of his skull, a slow dawning realization. But… he almost didn't want to acknowledge it as it could have been just some phantom hope that she would love him like he sometimes dreamed. It was way too easy to get lost in some fantasy.

Maybe he was just scared himself. Scared of being ghosted again if he picked up this hope and tried to make it real. In a roundabout way he was saying that, at least.

Okay. Time to bite the bullet. He leaned forward and put his hand on her elbow. "I know we're hanging out a lot more now. I'm sincerely enjoying all the times we get to do stuff together. I'm grateful that you're giving me all that." This is it. Just say it out loud. "I'm saying that if we want to be more than friends, I'm scared that you're going to leave me again."

Whew. Was that so bad? Actually yeah it was terrifying.

There was a grimace on Marinette's face. "I… I-I understand," she said weakly. "I understand why you'd be afraid of that. But I don't know how to prove to you that I won't?"

It felt like the world shifted, the same as the first time he ever saw her. That earlier hope was coiling around his heart, making it beat faster. "You won't?"

She kept looking pained. "J-Just so you know I t-totally get it if you wanna stay friends or… or something, but I-I want… I know I messed up and I get pretty crazy sometimes so maybe you don't want anything to do with me after this and it's completely your right to do that--"

"Hold on," Luka interrupted her, half anxious and half this is so Marinette. "I'm not--" She put her fingers to his lips to quiet him.

"B-But I have to ask if you could give me a second chance?"

⁂

Marinette pulled her head back a bit and got annoyed at herself. "Sorry, that wasn't supposed to be a pun. O-On your… history as Viperion."

Great, so not only had she made an ass of herself but she just unintentionally punned at Luka. Marinette intensely disliked when Chat had made those inappropriately annoying puns whenever moments were tense. She seemingly picked up the habit, ugh.

Luka laughed and the tension was cut a bit. Maybe Adrien wasn't so wrong to have joked all the time. Luka took her hand into his and pressed his face against her palm. "Alright, alright," he breathed out. Instantly Marinette's heart started beating faster. "I just wanted you to hear me out. You do hear me, right?"

Marinette nodded. "I hear you." There was a slightly rough and tickling sensation under her finger tips as she was able to feel some of his 5-o'clock-shadow (except what was it now, 4am?). Funny, she didn't notice that so much when she'd been kissing him.

"Then you should know that even though I've been scared, I could never stop hoping you'd warm back up to me." He gently folded her hand in his and smiled up at her. "Do you want to go out to dinner with me? We don't have to get married along the way."

"W-Well, yes to dinner, or maybe breakfast? But I mean," Marinette said, attempting for casual but probably still coming across nervous. "Don't throw that whole marriage idea out yet. I'm still not sure how to… prove things?"

He smiled. "Spend some quality time with me. That's all. It doesn't have to be big."

"Okay, breakfast and dinner. And lunch, too." She wanted to spend all the time she could with him. He wasn't asking for much -- to be honest he never asked for much, and this was something she wanted to give.

Luka smiled, probably thinking she was joking. "Think you can get some rest now?" He asked. "I can head back downstairs--"

"No! No, no, I mean, stay here with me. I-If you want."

"You're not trying to seduce me, are you?" He grinned.

"Well, I can," Marinette grinned back. "Can I?"

He seemed a little surprised by that. "Uh," he blushed.

How cute, he got flustered. Capitalizing on that, Marinette leaned forward to wrap her arms around his shoulders, her forehead against his. "I'd really like to," she whispered.

"How... inebriated are you?"

She sighed. "Do you really think I'd be having a coherent conversation with you if I was drunk?"

"You tell me, Ladybug."

"Luka Couffaine, you are a gentleman but I'm merely... warm and not even buzzed anymore. I would definitely still like to seduce you."

He blinked a few times. "Oh." He paused again, thinking it through. He gave a little laugh. "I'd really like that too."

[drjackandmissjo]

I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you

(but I’ll do what I must for there’s no me without you)

*** Set throughout the course of their 7th and final year at Hogwarts, this story follows Slytherin's finest and one of the only sane members of the House, Blaise Zabini, as he navigates war-torn friendships, school under a dictatorial regime, Death Eaters and, most importantly, his secret relationship with none other than the new leader of the DA, known blood-traitor, Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom.

A sequel to my previous story: Firewhisky on ice, sunset and vine, you’ve ruined my life by not being mine

Chapter 1 --- next chapter

Harry Potter fic masterlist

29th of July 1997

“I have to admit: I enjoyed the film way more than I expected to,” he said once they had left the muggle theatre. The air had become chilly during the time they had spent inside, but neither of them was bothered by that: they were used to colder climates, after all, spending most of the year in Scotland. And for all its spells and constant fires, one thing always must be said about Hogwarts: certain rooms and corners had never seen the light of the sun and they surely behaved as such, even during warm days.

Like the Potions classrooms, while Snape was their Professor. Those dungeon rooms looked and smelled and felt every bit of humidity that came from being so close to the lake and that, even with the countless explosions that Theo and the Fire Kid from Gryffindor caused with each lesson, could never get anything warmed up. A Hungarian Horntail could breathe fire in there for 24 hours straight and it would still be humid and wet and cold.

It was a good thing Professor Slughorn had decided to move the classrooms up on the fourth floor, in rooms full of windows and light. Blaise could have easily gone without having to add to his ever-growing list of worries his skin getting dehydrated with the stained and stale air that circulated down there.

He watched from the corner of his eye Neville nod along to his statement in agreement, before casually running a hand through his hair and messing them up even further. No matter how hard he tried to keep them neat and proper, like his grandmother wanted them to be, the strands appeared to have a life on their own, especially when certain Slytherin hands had free reign in between them whenever they were alone.

Besides, it really wasn’t Blaise’s fault: Neville had decided he wanted to grow them out, instead of cutting them just as his grandmother suggested on the daily, and, much to Blaise’s happiness, now his bangs framed his face divinely, making for a perfect place to leave his hands whenever they were else occupied.

He also enjoyed the way Neville would scoff in pretended annoyance whenever he disarrayed them and then would shake his head in disbelief at his antics, aiding Blaise’s purpose even further.

And, really, who could blame him? If Blaise wasn’t as in love with the dorky plant-head Gryffindor as he already was, he’d fall even harder at the sight of him with his funky tousled hair and puffy lips as he took a bite out of Blaise’s food without asking first.

He had been so glad that day, having bought a muggle camera that worked similarly to a magical one but that was way easier to manage. He had taken dozens of stills of them, never seeming to get enough of Neville’s smiling face and of his own relaxed and happy one. For Salazar’s soul, he had even sent one of the two of them smiling to his mother, after she kept on asking to at least see the young man that had enchanted her son.

She had replied to his letter the following day, with a simple: “Rule number fifty-one: don’t let him go.”

Blaise had never once wanted to disappoint his mother and definitely wouldn’t start now.

“I don’t really like the way it ended, though. The part where J removed K’s memories was a nice touch, but I feel like we didn’t have enough time with neither,” Neville commented, shoving his hands inside his jeans’ pockets as they kept on walking further and further away from the theatre, undoubtedly to stop himself from doing something idiotic like holding Blaise’s hand when there were still people around.

Given the current political and non-political air that permeated both the Wizarding World and Britain, the two young men had decided that it would be best to limit their encounters only to muggle areas in London, although they would still have to maintain a rather low and inconspicuous profile. It had become incredibly easy to be together without raising suspicions, especially with almost an entire school year of experience sneaking around the castle, but they still preferred to be cautious, to hide from both dark wizards and close-minded muggles.

Neville still lived with his grandmother, but she had become less strict during the course of his first week back at home from school and didn’t really bother him with the amount of time he stayed out, as long as he spent the nights at home. Besides, in her own words, they all had ‘bigger problems than teenagers breaking curfew a little bit to meet with their friends.’ Blaise couldn’t believe that he could ever agree with Augusta Longbottom, but he had seen stranger things happen.

Still, when Neville told him, he had been so shocked he had choked on his drink, causing the Gryffindor to laugh at the spectacle he had created with his Cola.

Blaise himself had been invited to spend his vacation at either Malfoy Manor and the Nott’s, both families offering their hospitality and implicit protection, but he had declined immediately under the ruse of a simple: ‘I live with you the whole year, I need my space and I need to breathe proper air that isn’t tainted with your disgusting deodorant.’ While the sentiment itself was true, he did not want to risk being found out with Neville, a known ‘blood traitor’. Not to mention the part of him being a guy. And a Gryffindor.

Blaise wasn’t really certain about which part would get him into more trouble and wasn’t willing to find out anytime soon.

Therefore, he had chosen to stay at his father’s old bachelor apartment in London, while his mother moved back to France, not wanting to be anywhere near the War that was brewing.

He had asked Neville to stay with him as soon as he was done cleaning the place, making it welcoming and a cosy retreat for them, but his adorable boyfriend couldn’t leave his despotic grandmother alone the entire time, especially not now that the waters were rough.

Always the selfless Gryffindor.

They had retorted then in meeting for random dates almost daily, which had been heavenly. Neville would show up at his apartment with Floo Powder, since he hadn’t taken his Apparition Examination yet, and then they’d just walk around muggle London, as if they had no care in the world. They still kept their guards up, checking every corner for danger that could be avoided, but they tried to ignore the Damocles Sword that hung above their necks.

Which had led them to the muggle theatre on more than one occasion. It had been a perfect idea: in the darkened room nobody questioned why they were holding hands or sharing the popcorn; and they wouldn’t risk anyone from the Wizarding World discovering them, those who would cause them troubles too high on their brooms to even look down at something as mundane as a muggle theatre.

They had also gone to muggle museums and parks and bookstores and restaurants, but Blaise loved the privacy the theatres offered, he loved the way Neville would get engrossed in the stories, he loved the way their hands would link together as suspense built on the screen, he loved to discuss the film afterwards and to dissect every aspect that he found interesting.

And he loved Neville, so it was all an added bonus.

There was a small theatre nearby his place that was quiet and seldom fraught and that allowed them to spend their evenings together, with the walk towards it full of the most random topic the pair could come up with and the walk back usually occupied with their thoughts and opinions about the film they had just watched. Neither of them had been too well versed in muggle culture to begin with, but it was very easy to pick up, especially with the way the family-owned theatre would sometimes project well-known and older productions, instead of only showing the recent ones.

It made the muggle spectacle even more fascinating, in Blaise’s eyes.

“It was kind of poetic, like a rite of passage and everything, but I understand what you mean,” Blaise said as they kept on walking, itching to grab Neville’s hand but holding himself back for the time being: they were still under the scrutiny of the public eye, after all. He’d have to wait until they turned two corners and were finally alone in the streets to finally place his hands on his boyfriend’s. With moderation, of course. “I feel like the story isn’t finished, especially with the way they had the doctor become an Agent. I understand that she had had her memory wiped more times than Lockhart, but she seemed fine! I don’t know, that ending left me pretty unsatisfied as well.”

His boyfriend huffed out a laugh at that and began to silently shake his head: “Lockhart got obliviated only once, by his own spell bouncing back from Ron’s broken wand. Compared to him, that doctor got her brain scrambled on the daily. But you’re right, it would have been so much better if she kept her job and was on the loop with the alien stuff.”

“Speaking of Lockhart, I wonder how’s he doing…” Blaise inquired, scratching his neck. It had been over three years since anyone had heard of the famous wizard and pretty much everyone had seemed to have forgotten about him. It was such a mystery for some, his sudden disappearance after his year teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Yet again, pretty much all the students at Hogwarts knew of the curse on that position, which made his absence plausible, but to have such a well renowned and celebrated man vanish into thin air after publishing a controversial book where he told the world he had no memory of who he had ever been, it was more than suspicious.

“At St. Mungo’s, giving out autographs Godric knows what for,” Neville answered his implicit question with nonchalance, “I see him sometimes when I go visit Mum and Dad.”

During the time they had been together, Neville had slowly begun to tell Blaise about what had happened to his family: how they were members of the original Order of the Phoenix, fighting the Dark Lord during the First War; how Dumbledore had suggested they hid as well as the Potters, because of some prophecy that would connect their children with the Dark Lord himself; how, after he was defeated and the Potters were killed, his parents were tracked down by four remaining Death Eaters and tortured to insanity; how they now stayed at St. Mungo’s, without a single memory of their son, completely out of their minds.

Blaise had always been cold and calculative and preferred to keep a rational outlook to the world, but when he saw, for the first time since that new information, Bellatrix Lestrange, at Malfoy Manor, free and enjoying life, his blood had begun to boil. He had never wanted to murder someone as much as he did in that moment, forcing himself to maintain a smile on his face and to pretend like he wasn’t ready to slaughter someone. When he came back home that night after dinner with Draco and his wretched family, he had spent an entire hour in the shower, scrubbing at his skin as if he could erase the memory of that wretched woman, drinking wine and telling them all about the Cruciatus Curse and how useful it could be to a dark wizard. He had kept that piece of information hidden from Neville, even though he had recounted pretty much the entire evening the following day, while his boyfriend attempted to calm him down from his homicidal plans, without truly knowing what had instigated them.

And he would never know, for Blaise would go to any lengths to avoid his sweet and loving boyfriend any pain. He had already suffered too much, in his short life.

“Really, he’s at St. Mungo’s?” Blaise asked, trying to distract himself from those dark thoughts. When he was with Neville, it almost felt as if Death Eaters didn’t exist, as if the Dark Lord hadn’t risen again, as if they weren’t on the verge of War. “I thought the whole ‘Who Am I?’ book was all a plan to disappear after he botched our second year without being bothered and now you tell me that Weasley sent him to the healers and basically deprived the Wizarding World of that perfectly blinding smile?” Neville playfully shoved him to the side with his shoulder, lingering a little in his touch as they kept on walking, just as restless as he was to be behind closed doors and to have their privacy and safety: “Ron didn’t send him anywhere and he got what he deserved,” he commented sheepishly, regarding Blaise with a blinding smile of his own.

And Blaise definitely preferred his boyfriend’s smile, so true and sincere and warm and just perfect, rather than anything their former fraud of a professor had ever shared.

“He spent the entire year pretending he could do shit and leaving me hanging from the ceiling, multiple times, and then, at the first sign that he needed to be a responsible adult, he tried to Obliviate Harry and Ron and leave Ginny down with the Basilisk. They got so lucky that Lockhart took Ron’s wand that still hadn’t been repaired, otherwise they’d all still be down there.” Then, as if in an afterthought, he added: “And don’t worry, he still got that smile,” his face reddened and visible even in the dimly lit street.

“No need being jealous of a man who isn’t even worth the mud under your shoes, Nev,” he teased, enjoying how his boyfriend would stammer embarrassed at being discovered.

“I’m not jealous!” he defended himself, but the crimson on his cheeks spoke of another story.

Blaise itched to cup his cheeks and to feel the warmth of his skin, but they were still in the middle of a street that was fairly illuminated and with people around. Therefore he did the next best thing: returned on a safer conversational path. “Oh, yeah, I remember about Weasley’s wand,” he said, laughing at the memory, “It bounced back that Slug-vomiting charm that was aimed at Draco. We had a blast that day, when he told us the story.” “Glad some of you enjoyed it, with your sick sense of humour,” Neville said, shuffling his hands inside of his pockets as they moved closer and closer to the corner that would lead them to the apartment, “poor Ron had to carry a bucket wherever he went for two days straight!”

Blaise couldn’t help himself: maybe it was the serious way he defended his friend, or maybe it was the image of a tiny second-year Weasley carrying around the entire castle a bucket to throw up slugs in, undoubtedly aided by an equally tiny Saint Potter with a bewildered tiny Grander following suit and reprimanding them both, but he just burst up laughing, his entire body shaking with it as he put his hands over his stomach, to try and regain his composure.

Yet, all thoughts of etiquette were damned as soon as he heard his boyfriend join in, his own laugh bright and pure and just perfect.

And the icing on their cake laid in the fact that they were alone, without anyone watching them, and they could just be themselves. Blaise didn’t hesitate a moment into grabbing Neville’s hand, enjoying the warmth that the Gryffindor radiated. They kept on laughing and holding hands as they walked back to the one place they could call theirs.

They all but ran the few meters that kept them vulnerable, staggering over the stairs as if they were drunk. It was a somehow good paragon, considering how inebriated they were with each other, and Blaise couldn’t stop thinking about how wonderful his life was in that moment. He could just be himself, around Neville, without having to worry about composure or secrets or manners.

When they closed the door behind their backs and stumbled inside of the apartment, they didn’t even open the electrical lights up, too engrossed in making up for the time they hadn’t been allowed to share, close and up in each other’s personal space.

Blaise would’ve been content in simply existing there, in the tiny apartment that once belonged to his late father, with his hands up on his boyfriend’s hair as he worked and worried over Neville’s exposed neck, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt, watching him lean against a wall for support once his legs had given up completely. The outside world didn’t matter anymore, not to him, not when he had Neville’s hands on him. He’d be glad dying there, in his arms, unbothered by the imminent war, by his friends, by their duties.

But reality had to crash down on them at some point.

Neville removed his mouth from his, panting and with his eyes shut, savouring for one more moment their closeness. Blaise studied his face from the short distance, as he always loved doing, recognising his boyfriend’s reluctance to separate. Yet, his duty would win, as it always did, and he would take a step back, trying to recompose himself and running a hand through his hair.

It was long due a haircut, by now, but Blaise was an egoist and wanted the length to stay for a little longer. Besides, when September came, his grandmother would definitely cut it, even against Neville’s will. And Blaise would take whatever he could, when it came to going against Augusta Longbottom.

He hadn’t even met the woman yet and he had already accepted defeat, if it meant keeping Neville in his life. And, while he did not harbour any love for the witch, he was most certain he could keep an amicable front with her, at least, all for Neville’s sake.

That didn’t mean, though, that he didn’t try to stray her grandson into a different path than the one she wanted, at every corner: “Can’t you stay this once?” he asked in a low and sultry voice, fully conscious of what that tone did to his perfect Gryffindor boyfriend, refusing to take a step back and let a single centimetre separate the two of them.

He watched as Neville slowly opened his eyes in the dim light that was filtered by the window from the empty street below. He watched as his throat bobbed as he swallowed, trying to regain his breathing. He watched, powerless, as Neville slipped them over, switching their positions, effectively trapping him against the wall in his arms.

The Gryffindor bent down a little and placed the most chaste and sweet and anticlimactic kiss on Blaise’s lips, driving the Slytherin mad with want and desire, unable to do anything other than comply.

“You know I can’t, flower,” he murmured directly against Blaise’s lips, his own stretching in a wicked smile. Neville Longbottom knew exactly which buttons to press and when to use them all against him: Blaise couldn’t help the shiver that ran over his back at that simple word, still not used to the way the simple pet name made his toes curl and his heart beat out of his chest, nor could he help the sound of appreciation that came out of his throat, and that transformed immediately into one of disappointment as soon as his boyfriend untangled himself from him.

He tried to make some air reach his brain, when Neville stepped back from him once again, leaving him space to breathe and recollect himself while still being infuriatingly close, neither of them wanting to truly part despite their obligations.

“Yes, I unfortunately do…” he answered, still leaning against the wall. He ran his right thumb over his lips, enjoying the way the Gryffindor’s body stiffened at the sight as his eyes tracked the movement. He sometimes still couldn’t believe his luck, especially when Neville looked at him like that, as if he needed all of his strength just to hold back.

Most of the time, Blaise wished he didn’t, yet the knowledge that he was the one to make the apparently timid, placid Schlongbottom, as his friends still believed he was, lose his mind completely was intoxicating. And he lived for those moments and hours when Neville would let go of his composure fully, causing Blaise to follow suit without a single complaint. Because he couldn’t be the farthest from timid or placid, but only he saw that side of him, only he got to enjoy that part of his sweet and amazing boyfriend.

“What are you going to do tomorrow?” Blaise asked almost out of the blue, conscious already of the reply, but wanting to steal some more time alone with the Gryffindor.

He didn’t particularly care that he was abiding by the stereotype that Slytherins were manipulating and tempting, not when Neville would shoot him a blinding but cocky smile as he fired back: “Already missing me?”

“Always.”

“I told you, I’m going to help Luna find a dress for the wedding and Grandma’s organised that family gathering to celebrate my 17th…” he trailed off, scratching the back of his neck, to try to make his blushing less noticeable. Unfortunately for him, in doing so, he had involuntarily made his shirt rise a little, showing off the skin beneath, and Blaise was not going to let such an opportunity pass: he moved closer and snug his arms around his boyfriend’s midriff, planting his hands in the small of his back. “Remind me again why I can’t crash her party and steal you away?” he asked casually, next to his ear, before he began to worry the earlobe with his teeth.

Neville seemed to be at a loss for words under Blaise’s ministrations, which was entirely his goal, but he eventually did manage to speak again: “Because she doesn’t know about us, since if she did we’ll never hear the end of it ‘cause we were keeping this a secret, and you are a Slytherin and I am a Gryffindor, and because she is not allowing me to invite any friends,” he said, his voice firm and unfaltering, despite the way his hands were holding Blaise close to him, silently begging to keep up with his work.

Not that he was planning to stop anytime soon. Still, some words at the back of his throat itched to be said: “I have a few words I’d like to tell your grandmother and none of them are kind,” Blaise claimed, staring right into Neville’s eyes and wondering how such a stern woman could raise such a loving man. While it was true that she had laid off his back for the time being, she had doubled down on her questions about Neville’s private life: the poor Gryffindor had to retort to lying simply to avoid her finding out about their relationship. It was a good thing that he had quite a vast number of friends and that said friends didn’t interact with his grandmother, because, based on Blaise’s very own experience with pureblood families, everyone knew everything, especially when ‘keeping the lines pure’ was involved and everyone turned out to be related.

For instance, Neville’s white lie for that day’s activity was very simple: “I’m going to play Quidditch with my roommates and we’ll have dinner afterwards.”

When Neville had told him as much, Blaise had exploded into laughter and disbelief. Was it believable for his boyfriend to play Quidditch? Absolutely not, but he shared a dormitory with Weasley, Thomas and Saint Potter, therefore he played by proxy. It would have equally been absurd for his grandmother to and not to believe him, which was what made the lie incredibly clever.

Blaise shook his head as he silently snickered at the fresh memory, still hesitant to remove his hands from his boyfriend’s body: “Anyway, who’s getting married now that we’re almost on the brink of war?” he inquired, truly curious. A wedding in the Wizarding World was a very public event, especially when pureblood families were involved, which they must have been, if Lovegood was invited.

All of his friends still kept on calling her Loony, but he had stopped using that epithet, since he had begun to consider her a friend as well, thanks to their mutual connection to Neville. And she was an excellent friend, both to him and his boyfriend, kind and compassionate and considerate.

He had already begun to wonder about who the couple must have been, considering no one in his circles had mentioned anything, when Neville spoke, making him understand exactly why nobody amongst the purebloods he spent his time around had even known or cared about such a thing: “Bill Weasley, Ron’s eldest brother, and Fleur Delacour.”

“The Triwizard Champion? How did they even meet?” he inquired, now even more curious. He had seen the eldest Weasley only once, at Gringotts, and it was in that moment that he first began to question whether or not he was straight. And, to pair that with Beauxbatons’ champion, well… That must have been a hell of a good looking couple!

“I don’t know,” Neville said, leaning his head against Blaise’s shoulder and looking at him with a soft smile through his eyelashes, “but they’re super cute together, at least that’s what Ginny told me.” “And you haven’t been invited?” His boyfriend shrugged at that, Blaise knew he did not particularly care about mundane events and being into the public eye: “No, from what Ginny told me it’s not going to be that big of a ceremony. Only family, close friends of the couple, and neighbours. Which is why Luna’s going, as well as to spend time with Ginny.”

“That’s a shame you won’t be there,” he commented, running for the umpteenth time that eventing his hands through Neville’s hair, as the other wizard stayed there, merely enjoying his ministration while he tried not to fall asleep. It had happened already once, right before he had to leave, and that incident had prompted his grandmother into a speech about the right of an adolescent Gryffindor to a little bit of rule-breaking. “I bet you would’ve looked dashing in a suit.”

“Jealous, darling? You know you could always look at me in a suit, if you’d just let me borrow one…” “Not a chance, caro. Mine are all tailored to perfection for my body,” he said playfully, moving his head to the side to place a small kiss on Neville’s nose, causing the other wizard to blush and giggle, “Besides, I prefer seeing you without a single stitch.” “Blaise! You can’t just say shit like that!” his boyfriend spluttered, trying to get away from his words as if they had just tickled him. He loved the way Neville would get all cute and embarrassed. His usual tell was the blush that started on his cheeks and spread throughout his body, and that was incredibly adorable. Blaise had tried to see just how farther the colour could spread, but he had been distracted in his path, somehow. “Why not? No one is listening and it’s true!” he had begun to retort, only to be shut up quickly as two lips pressed against his own, soft yet insistent, gentle yet commanding. One thing had to be said about Neville Longbottom and that was how efficient he was at quieting him with a single gesture, whether with a kiss or by simply occupying his mind with the little things he always did, essentially being himself, unfiltered.

It took them less time than usual to resurface for once, mainly because Blaise still wanted to know more about the hot new wizarding couple that could definitely take over the world, if the Dark Lord wouldn’t win.

He desperately prayed he wouldn’t, for countless different reasons.

“When is this marvellous event?” he asked, still refusing to put a single millimetre of space in between them.

“In three days, on the first. Luna’s absolutely on her last chance, looking for the perfect dress that won’t attire Wrackspurts,” he commented, shaking his head. Something inside of Blaise told him that it wasn’t the first nor the second time they went out shopping and, if Lovegood was anything like Pansy, it must have not been an easy task chaperoning. Pansy Parkinson could try on an entire street of boutiques, buy every single item of her size, and still lament she had nothing to wear.

“Why? Wanna meet up? I thought we were going for lunch on the second,” Neville added, pulling him out of the horror of the memory of the first time that witch had discovered French Haute Couture: a tornado would’ve left behind less damage.

“Yeah, I’ve been invited to Draco’s for dinner on the first, with all the others…” he trailed off, remembering exactly what had been discussed the previous night amongst the Death Eaters. It wasn’t unusual for Draco and Theo to invite him over, especially since they both believed he was fully on the Dark Lord’s side but was merely acting precious, never truly giving in. And he couldn’t deny an invitation, otherwise it would have looked suspicious. After all, his friends knew that he was staying all alone in London, away from his family, and that he wasn’t fooling around with anyone, which, in their eyes, meant he had a lot of free time.

Free time that they tried to occupy, not wanting to leave him completely alone. Thankfully, they weren’t overbearing, having him over every couple of days or so, respecting his privacy, but whenever an invitation came, he had to follow through.

Now, he couldn’t exactly tell his friends: “No, I’ll pass on spending time with you, I’m going to go watch muggle entertainment with my Gryffindor boyfriend,” could he?

Luckily for his relationship, though, the invites were rather old fashioned, called days prior, and that left him and Neville plenty of time to organize. The only person in their friend group that liked to show up uninvited or unannounced by an owl was Pansy, but she would’ve stayed in Spain until the mid of August, which meant Blaise could breathe a little without having to worry about her finding out his secret. Draco and Theo were way too busy in their official Death Eater work to even want to hang out with him in the mornings and afternoons anyway.

“What is it, B?” Neville asked, undoubtedly feeling the way his shoulders had tensed from up close. His hold on Blaise became slightly tighter, grounding and real, while still remaining gentle, letting him know that they were alright and, no matter what happened, they’d be okay.

Closing his eyes and leaning against his boyfriend’s shoulder, he began to recount what he had eavesdropped: “When I was at Theo’s last night, his father and his uncle were talking about something that went bad for them the day before, so on the 27th, and how the Dark Lord was more than displeased. All I got were hushed words about a failed kidnapping, I believe, and how the Dark Lord had completely exploded against his followers in anger, even though he had no idea who to even blame and punish. But then his father moved onto a different topic and said that they’d have their victory in a couple of days anyway, that they needed to wait, that they couldn’t lose, that August would be their month of victory. But he didn’t explain what exactly he had meant, without a doubt to keep us ‘children’ in the dark. I couldn’t really understand much, Crabbe had gone off about some bullshit of his and they were speaking in a low voice on the opposite side of the table, but the intent was clear. Something big is about to happen.” “Blaise…”

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you more, but they don’t fully trust anyone who doesn’t have the Mark. Besides, they consider us children, even Draco doesn’t know much and he let the bloody Death Eaters into Hogwarts! They know he’s loyal, or at least think so, ‘cause he was at some meetings with the Dark Lord himself. Yet they still don’t tell us shit. Not even to Theo, who’s more of a fanatic than a follower. And I am not going to taint my arm with that disgusting thing anytime soon, even if that would help. But it’s so frustrating and…” he continued, still refusing to open his eyes: he knew he should’ve told that story to Neville earlier, but he had got distracted by their date; he knew he should’ve contacted Professor McGonagall, warning her about what was going on and whose side he was on, but he was terrified he’d be intercepted somehow; he knew he was a terrible spy and that his motive was entirely egotistical, fuelled only by his will to keep Neville safe, and he couldn’t do anything about any of that.

War was coming and Blaise Zabini was powerless against it, unable to do anything concrete.

It wasn’t until he felt warm lips on his forehead and felt warm hands on either side of his face, gently holding him together, that he stopped his rambling. He usually wasn’t like this, letting his mind wander and his mouth running to catch up, at least not in front of other people, because it could potentially be dangerous and could bring unwanted questions. “Rule number eighteen: do not blabber, unless you intend to become a thespian and need practice for monologues,” his mother always said and he preferred to maintain a decent amount of control over the words that came out of him, never going into a rampage, unlike Draco did whenever he messed up his hair, yet never appearing bothered by the simple act of speaking, unlike Theo, who favoured monosyllabic replies to everything. His was always a perfect balance, studied to the last detail to make his speeches and his sentences reach the point and the mind of those who lent him their ears.

Rule number nineteen was: “do not fall in love with a thespian unless they’re a muggle actor from Hollywood,” yet Blaise knew he wouldn’t use that rule. Not anymore and hopefully not ever.

Still, of course, as it had become a routine in his life, everything about him became erratic and unpredictable when he was with Neville. He had found himself digress many times and he was always quite shocked when he realised how far he had gone from his initial path, much to his boyfriend’s delight and amusement. “I like seeing you ruffled,” he had admitted once, earning a copy of ‘Advanced Potion Making’ chucked at his head as they both laughed, with Blaise trying to hide his blushing cheeks.

“Blaise, my love, calm down,” Neville whispered softly against his forehead, hugging him closer and managing to reassure him without wearing him down with his own emotions, “I’m sure everything will be fine. The Order probably knows already that something’s about to happen. Besides, McGonagall’s in there as well, she’s not going to let anything happen, bad or not. Everything will be alright and I’ll come here on the second just like we planned to. You gotta trust me.”

He took a deep, steadying breath as he tried to ground himself back again. Neville’s presence helped greatly, as he had already told the other wizard countless times. “I trust you, more than anyone else,” he admitted, staring straight into his brown eyes as if they could hold all of the Universe’s answers, “But promise you won’t jump headfirst if something happens.” “Of course, I’ll stay home with Grandma as much as I can, when I don’t have my powerful Slytherin around to protect me. Besides, I’m pretty sure You Know Who will stay out of her path, she’s almost as scary as McGonagall!” Neville joked, causing Blaise to shake his head: Gryffindor antics were hard to knock off, it seemed. And, even if he was already wildly intimidated by Augusta Longbottom and she might make the Dark Lord reconsider his career path with her umbrella and her hats, theirs was not a topic to take lightly. “Neville, I’m serious.” “I know.”

Blaise scoffed at that and removed himself from their embrace, allowing space in between their bodies to better convey his message: “I know I can’t make you promise me you’ll stay put, ‘cause you won’t. But can you swear to me that you won’t risk your life recklessly?” he asked, unbothered if some of his desperation seeped into his voice. He knew he could let his walls down around his boyfriend, after all. “You mean like a Gryffindor,” came immediately the reply as Neville crossed his arms over his chest, now that he had the space to do so. “Nev…” “Only if you swear on Slytherin himself that as soon as shit starts to go down, you’ll get to safety,” he intercepted him, stopping Blaise before he could go on another tangent about House Values, “I need to know you’ll be careful.” Blaise nodded at that, he could understand the sentiment: of course his boyfriend would want him safe. But times were darkening by the hour and soon neither of them would probably know what safety even meant.

“Let’s make a deal:” he suggested, already knowing that Neville would agree to his plans, even if they were half-assed ideas about sneaking inside of a muggle library just to study and recreate the ambience of Hogwarts’ own, “usually I’m back from Draco’s around midnight. If nothing happens, we’ll just see each other in the morning after, as we planned. But if the world ends, meet me here at midnight. Sneak past your grandmother or stun her, since you won’t have to worry about the Trace by then. But just, come here, please.”

“The world’s not going to end, my love. Not on my watch,” Neville said, holding once again both of his hands in his and placing a soft kiss on his thumbs.

With the Gryffindor, it was all about the soft and subtle touches, the small moments. Blaise had dived into their relationship wanting to keep it hidden to avoid uproar by the entire school, yet he had been surprised when Neville hadn’t complained about their subtlety; he had almost expected the dorky plant-head to be the most PDA-indulging being in their entire school and it had been unexpected, yet not unwelcomed, his quiet way of giving affection, even when they were all alone and safe.

“Thank you, my mighty Gryffindor,” he replied with a flourish, pondering the pros and cons of bowing. On one hand, he’d keep up his theatrics that seemed to amuse Neville to no end, but on the other, he’d have to let go of his boyfriend’s hands, which was something he wasn’t willing to do. Neville, as always, resolved his qualm without a second thought: he playfully shoved Blaise away with a push from his hands, before pulling him back closer and making him crash against his torso. “Besides, it’s not like we’re not going to see each other before then! What did you say we would do again…?” Blaise saw right through his feeble attempt at distraction immediately: “Nope, I’m not going to tell you, it’s a surprise!” he exclaimed, placing a placating kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek. He had already planned the entirety of their date since he found out the plant-head wouldn’t be free on his birthday: they’d start the day by having lunch at a Chinese restaurant Neville had particularly enjoyed and then they’d move to visit the Royal Botanic Gardens, allowing for them to spend the entire afternoon and evening there, since he already knew very well that his boyfriend would get distracted with every single leaf. And Blaise loved when Neville got side-tracked to talk about plants, even if he didn’t care about the ‘green things’ himself, so it would be a win-win. “Please, B, you know I don’t really like surprises!” he lamented, but Blaise was adamant on his position. “Mio caro, you’ll have to suffer then.” “You’re so mean to me.” Blaise kissed the tip of his nose once more, giggling at the way it involuntarily twitched under his lips: “Yeah, but you love me nevertheless.” What followed was a bad series of sloppy kisses and giggles shared between them as they walked in tandem next to the fireplace, miraculously avoiding tripping over furniture. They knew it was time for Neville to leave, but they were both incredibly reluctant to let go.

“Goodnight, then,” Blaise said, attempting without any real intent to put some space in between them, and he was almost immediately followed by Neville’s own: “Goodnight,” spoken directly against his lips as he removed his hands from around the Gryffindor’s torso, giving a little push to create some distance in between them. “I love you,” Neville sing-sang as he grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, waiting for Blaise’s reply before disappearing into the Network. “I love you too, but go before your grandmother decides to murder me for keeping her grandson away from home all the time!”

And with that, Neville Longbottom had gone back home, leaving Blaise alone in the quiet apartment, his laugh still ringing clearly in his ears against the deafening silence. The place always seemed to lose its warmth as soon as his boyfriend left and so he shrugged on a jumper he had ‘borrowed’ from the Gryffindor, without his knowledge and without any real intent on giving it back.

He was not as naïve as Neville was sometimes, still believing that everything would be alright in spite of all the signs pointing to Hell, but he knew that they would be together even if the world did fall off its axis, and that thought warmed him more than any fire could.

And with that, plus the jumper, he tried to fall asleep, ignoring the way his heart pounded at the uncertainty of his future.

But, of one thing only he was certain: he’d stay by Neville’s side and he’d stay at his, no matter what.

[kaypeace21]

DID theory part 3: St novels/comics/spotify list analyses

*read part 2  of DID theory-first! You’ll be lost otherwise, seriously XD. First, I’ll say -I find the ST comics/ books as canon as the st movie inspirations . I don’t consider the books/comics ‘literal canon’ (cause they contradict the show ( like Max and billy meeting a year before s2  in runaway max - but meeting as little kids in s3,  or El’s age being wrong in suspicious minds, in the d&D comic Will’s friends instead of him /Jonathan building castle byers, etc) . 

So I think we shouldn’t take it  literally - but more like the st movie lists - filled with foreshadowing/symbolism and other eastereggs (That the Duffers may have told them to add). So here’s some more (possible) alter / DID hints...

‘Suspicious minds’ novel

- Brenner  equates k*lling rabbits to h*rting kids. And he’ll hurt (kid) Kali (the bunny in the analogy) if Terry tries running away from him . I wonder if Lonnie used a similar threat against jonathan? Jon could be giving only a partial truth to why he cried for a week (about the bunny story)?

-Kali “hops” like a bunny then talks about tigers obsessively (linking her to rabbits/tigers similar to the other alters/Will/Lonnie). Terry also imagines tigers and kali says to Alice they can all be tigers together.

- one of the only male psychic experiments (who can see the future) is gay

- Terry is into lord of the rings, like Will. Has her and her boyfriend dress as sam & frodo (m/m ship). Terry calls her and her friends “the fellowship”.

-when Terry/Alice were injected with d**gs -they hallucinated rainbows.yikes.

- Alice (like Lonnie) is a car mechanic. She can see the future like Will the wise and says “monsters of course my mind has them as long as they stayed in there, everything would be alright? Wouldn’t it?” (in her visions she saw the demogorgan).

 (completed) graphic ST novels (by Jody Hozer) so far  (+ other st comics).

*Jody Hozer writes all the graphic novels (every novel is 4 chapters each) - the will byers comic, number 6 comic , into the fire comic, and at the moment she’s writing the d&d series and the summer camp series (which isn’t done yet). Then there’s the occasional 1 chapter st comics not written by her.

- Number 6 has (the ability to foresee the future like Will the wise/Alice) and has an ab*sive dad. 

When having a nightmare of the demogorgan ...she says as she wakes up “screw you dad” (another hint the demogrgan -aka in d&d means ‘deep father’ ...is Lonnie).

- when number 6 and others run they say they’re’ “rabbiting”(which yes technically makes sense but I found such an uncommon phrase odd.)

- The (summer camp and d&d graphic novels aren’t completed yet) but they establish d&d creatures are based off  real life people the boys don’t like in real life. Or that d&d is used as an outlet to explain true events from their pasts -but they just give the true stories a d&d fantasy slant.

- Which brings me to the halloween oneshot(not by Hozer),taking place before s1. Will tells a scary story told to him by Jonathan, and originally told to him by Lonnie. Says the boys have to keep it a secret cause it was something he was never supposed to tell to anyone. Mike says he has to finish the story he started. It’s about a “ch*lld-eater” monster first attacking a boy near the quarry (like where Will was found) and  attacking kids in a library (where Will was also found in s1).When the child sees the sheriff she bangs on the library door begging for help-he ignores her , walks away, and tells the other cops to never speak of what they saw as she screams for help. Because the previous sheriff was in kahoots with the monster. It def had some ... uh questionable imagery too 0_0

The vine in the mouth is also like the one in Will’s mouth (when Joyce found him in the library).And of course Dustin asks whether or not something like that could be covered up.

- In the “bully  comic” (about troy) also not by Jody. We focus on Troy and his ab*sive dad (who encourages him to fight/ditch his best friend). The dad has a drinking problem (gets fired), calls Troy a “mess” , pushes him, and constantly encourages Troy to be vi*lent/macho. He pretty much tries sabotaging the relationship Troy has with his friend (which I could see Lonnie doing in the future with byler).The dad/troy is framed similarly to when Billy gives Max a ride home-  after both ab*sers give bad advice saying not to hang out with their friend (after witnessing them fight in the school parking lot). Dad also laughs about almost k*lling a squirrel (a trait we see troy mimic)- and we see El feel guilty about k*lling a squirrel in s2. At the end of the comic- Troy (like Will) after making up with his bff james- moves leaving his best friend behind.

-  (into the fire) Twins: (one was normal with no powers living in the real world and the twin with fire powers is trapped in a dark sunless “cold” world styled like a psych facility/medieval fantasy) . pics in link.She hated her reflection cause it reminded her of being betrayed by her normal non powered twin who left her behind in the ‘cold’ place. She’d call herself a ‘hunter’ who would defend herself and attack others to never be hurt again. Her powers being unleashed were described like opening “a door.” And she loves her twin deep down and just wants friends . And fire twin goes to the “other side” to reunite with her reflection and find happiness in the real world. *also there’s sunflower/bunny symbols which she lights on fire-which can relate back to Will/Terry/Lonnie etc. The twins = Will & Will the wise (mf)

Mirrors also connect to Will and Will the wise via the canon spotify playlists too.

Will playlist (song: mirror in the bathroom)-Mirror in the bathroom Please talk free.The door is locked -Just you and me.Mirror in the bathroom recompense for all my crimes of self defense.Cures you whisper make no sense!Drift gently into Mental illness.

Demogorgan playlist ( from perspective of Will the wise aka the mf) (song: are you dead yet? )-”polluted soul through a mirror I behold.Throw a punch, shards bleed on the floor. tearing me apart. but I don't care anymore.Should I regret or ask myself are you dead yet?Wake up, don't cry. Regenerate to deny the truth. The fiction you live in blindfolds your eyes. Disclosure, self loathing, this time you've gone too far.Or could it be, my nemesis, that you are me?

(*st ‘into the fire’ comic. the fire powered twin’s thoughts echo the song)

*I think this foreshadows the later plot points of mf (will the wise ) and Will interacting via mirrors. The fire-wielding twin and the non powered twin had a lot of mirror imagery. Including the fire powered twin (Who denies reality/and imagines herself in a fantasy world) punching her reflection because it reminds her of her non-powered twin. Here’s some cover art from the novels showing how much they emphasize mirrors.

*And in s4 movies Black swan - “the black and white swan twins (two halves of the same person-Nina)” had creepy mirror imagery. In long kiss goodnight the women with DID talks to her “ (supposed)dark 1/2″  via a mirror (in a dream).  in ‘the visit’ the teen girl who’s dad abandoned her when young-  refuses to look in the mirror (and it’s never explained why she hates her reflection). So yes I think we’ll see this in s4 or 5. We already see the mf take on the appearance of Billy when talking to him.

- Will in “zombie boy” comic is afraid he’s a monster.

also lets appreciate the lil byler moment of Mike and Will being the only zombies and mike comforting him. honestly , though, the characters were pretty out of character for most of this 1 ch comic (until the end) tbh.

- in the “d&d comic” mf is  (possibly) described as a “protector” (aka like how i said the mf is probably a perpetrator alter- which are misguided protectors).

*update now that it’s finished... hinting Will created everything subconsciously.

‘Runaway Max’ novel (before s3)

(I didn’t get time to read this book unlike ‘suspicious minds’ -so can’t show screen shots of everything others talked about. May read it eventually)

-Max compares Billy  to ‘her monster’ and a ‘shadow’ that will attack anyone that comes close (mf parallel).

- Dart k*lled a cat,  El’s papa tried to force her to k*ll a cat. And Billy when seeing a d*ad cat lights it on fire for a “viking funeral”. A connection to WW (who has fire powers) and El & dart.

-Max and Billy both are into cars and bond over fixing them (similar to Lonnie’s interest in fixing up cars). And since Lonnie tried to brag to Jonathan about fixing a car up and Will is into tech it wouldn’t be a stretch that Lonnie and Will were into fixing cars together (like Max/billy who would hang out at a autoshop in Cali) .  Similar to Will ,max says hanging with Billy wasn’t always so bad- which made things more confusing to her.

- Max compares Billy being beat up by Neil: to ‘punching a pocket of a baseball glove’. This is interesting since this book was pre-s3 which was when they established the connection of billy and his dad to baseball (similar to s1 saying  Lonnie taught Will baseball).

-Billy’s friend is a nice ‘music snob’ . He tries distracting Max with music while Billy is burning the cat. Which reminds me of Jonathan trying to distract Will from their parents fighting in the next room-with music

- Max’s bio dad is a criminal who takes her to shady bars, and Max fears he’d ‘get bored of her’. Max also ran away from her mom to her dad’s 2x.Which reminds me of Jonathan thinking Will ran to Lonnie’s in s1.

-Max mentions how Billy misses his friends after moving out of Cali. And he starts acting even worse-after the move. Which will probably be the case for Will (at least a bit) when moving to California.

-Billy tells Max Neil isn’t his ‘real dad’ either because Neil can’t be a father to anyone.

-Billy also tells Max who (at the time ) is 12 years old not to act “easy” and breaks her best friend’s (Nate’s) arm over  someone joking he was Max’s boyfriend and also cause Nate tried to get in between Billy bullying Max. Eventually all her Cali friends ditch her cause they’re afraid of Billy.And Ugh- why could I see Lonnie doing something like this in the future with Will/his new friends. 

- Creepily Max says Billy doesn’t fool around with her like other girls not because of her age or being family. But cause she wasn’t ‘attractive’. This whole excerpt gave me the heeby jeebies,on so many levels, honestly.  Almost like he’s jealous- and controlling her cause he doesn’t want Max to have any love interests. Maybe i’m just missing the context? But ugh... excerpt:

Will byers secret Files

-Hopper gets scared by a pumpkin-scarecrow. And in Will’s canon journal when talking about the mindflayer and his nightmares draws the same scare-crow , Hopper saw. There’s also a lot of s4-5 foreshadowing in the book... but that’s a post for another day.

Darkness on the edge of town (Hopper novel)

*didn’t get time to read this (except the preview)

 I think it’s more foreshadowing for future seasons though- cult/supposed ritual k*llings, people being wrongly blamed for those crimes-like the hellfire club , most likely.  (similar to the guy number 3 in the number 6 comic)  saint john in the novel also has the same brain control powers as 3- similar to the mf. .” When a blackout plunges the boroughs into chaos, Hopper must escape the the mobs in the streets to make sure his family is safe and stop Saint John from fulfilling his prophecy.” I already talked about here- how the next few seasons would start having more religious symbolism/a future apocalypse (based on what we’ve seen in the show/s4 movies). Although, i think there’s quite a few differences between (the novel’s) saint john and Will the wise. Hopper is also a star wars nerd like the boys (alter hint)

Canon spotify songs (posted after s2/before s3) hinting at DID/ alter /lonnie stuff-

Will  and Will the wise (aka the mf) being an alter

*Used Will and the demogorgan playlist (which i think has perspectives of Will the wise aka the mf, demogorgan, and Lonnie).

Besides the mirror songs previously mentioned...

Will (cold inside)-Doctor the problem's in my chest.My heart feels cold as ice but it's anybody's guess?Doctor can you help me cause I don't feel right?Better make it fast before I change my mind. Doctor can you help me cause I don't feel right?Better make it fast before I change my mindWell it's cold, cold, cold, cold inside. Darker in the day than the dead of night Cold, cold, cold, cold inside...Counselor give me some advice Tell me how hard will I fall if I live a double life?

El (ghost)-your ghost, the ghost of you.It keeps me awake.My friends had you figured out.Yeah they saw what's inside of you. You tried hiding another you.But your evil was coming through... living in the shade Your cold heart makes my spirit shake.

El (monster Lead me home)-I don't know what, what I was afraid of, I was afraid oooof...Monster take me somewhere...We walk in shadow.Monster lead me home.Where there is no place to hide.Stranger on the other side We walk in shadow.Monster lead me home.

 The’ innerworld’/  other hints Max, El, Hopper, and Billy are alters of Will’s

Max (Logical song)-I know it sounds absurd. Please tell me who I am, who I am, who I am, who I am?

EL(Buzzcut season)-I remember when your head caught flame It kissed your scalp and caressed your brain ...nothing's wrong when nothing's true. I live in a hologram with you Where all the things that we do for fun . Play along (make-believe it's hyper real) But I live in a hologram with you.

Billy (broken bones)-Broken bones.Stay alone. If I see only what I believe -reality's bound by what I conceive

Max (Why can’t i touch it)-Well, it seems so real.I can see it.And it seems so real-I can feel it.And it seems so real-I can taste it.And it seems so real-I can hear it.So why can't I touch it?

Hopper (breakers)-Just to keep me from losing my mind .It's so easy to drown in the dream.Oh, and everything is not what it seems This life is but a dream.Shatter illusions that hold your spirit down ...From the inside, so it seems.Oh, I'm telling you it's all a dream It's all a dream It's all a dream It's all a dream It's all a It's all a dream.”

Max (comfortably numb)-When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse out of the corner of my eye.I turned to look but it was gone.I cannot put my finger on it now.The child is grown.The dream is gone.I have become comfortably numb.

Max (Kids aren’t alright)-Still it's hard Hard to see Fragile lives, shattered dreams...What the hell is going on? The cruelest dream, reality.

El(team)-Livin' in ruins of a palace within my dreams. And you know we're on each other's team

Hopper (denial twist) ( just change ‘she’ to ‘he’)-Just because she makes you feel wrong she don't mean to be mean or hurt you on purpose, boy!Take a tip and do yourself a little service...by playing a different role Ya, by playing a different role, oh.The boat ya you know she's rockin' it.And the truth well ya know there's no stoppin' it.So what, somebody left you in a rut and wants to be the one who's in control.But the feeling that you're under can really make you wonder.How the hell she can be so cold?So now you're mad, denying the truth.And it's getting in the wisdom in the back of your tooth

El (the story)-You see the smile that's on my mouth.It's hiding the words that don't come out.And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed.They don't know my head is a mess.No they don't know who I really am.And they don't know what I've been through

El (hero) ( pretty much alludes to El being a construct of Will’s mind similar to his juju zombies in the d&d story he wrote )-Who knows what you'll find when you look inside (billy’s mind)?Haunted beach (billy flashback), roll the dice.The zombies in the corner aren't amused (d&d ref).Play the part of the blushing bride...Out of view, cloaked by night...My spirit dims, but I feel the force"No longer in my hands,"  (loses powers) .I say to you .I could've been a hero, I could've been a zero.Could've been all these thingsI could've been nothing, I could've had something.Could've been all these things.And if I am unable, tell him that I'll try but underneath the table will spin the wheel and hope for gold. Oh, and where it stops, nobody knows.

Max (it’s real)-I don't know who's behind the wheel.Sometimes I feel like I don't know The deal.But when I tell you how I feel-Believe me when I say It's real.I skated on a frozen Sea.It's real as far as I Can see?

Max (Halloween)-Because your role is planned for you there's nothing you can do.

El (White rabbit... alice and wonderland/lonnie ref)-And if you go chasing rabbits, and you know you're going to fall...When logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead.

demogrogan(Dimensions of horror)-Gaze upon the ancient face you dread (lonnie)... Passing through the doors, into Dimensions Of Horror. Haunting visions from the past, rise once more.Realms of darkness, terror, death and gore.Scream in fear, your sanity is lost

demogorgan (SCHORCHED)-Terrorizing madness. Vivid dreams. internal. Hallucinating the unknown. Abstract entities prey.Through superhuman abilities.Fragments of memory erased.

demogrogan (Calling from a dream)-the shadow king...seven spirits (7 ref) Swarming around his head.Close your eyes.Listen to my call. Our bond will bring us together again.I will wait for you. For our hearts still beat as one.Listen to my calling from a dream. (integration?)

 Maybe a coincidence or a hint at Will having both male &female alters?Billy (dude looks like a lady)- What a funky lady...Oh, he was a lady.Dude looks like a lady. Hopper (turn the page)-All the same old cliches,"Is that a woman or a man?" Max ( rebel rebel) (this was on her her pre s3 spotify list + post s3 “wrapped list”)- you got your mother in a whirl, doesn’t know if you’re a boy or girl? 

 SHIT DAD/ AB*SIVE FAMILY

*trigger w*rning ahead for dark themes like s**ual ab*se

demogorgan (my children)My children I never loved them.Why feel that way when their existence is my business?My children...feral vessals of my selfinterest...So don't lean on me man 'Cause I ain't got nothing to give.Don't lean on me man 'Cause I ain't got nothing to give.My children they're right behind you My children they're gonna beat you.My children if you let them Oh, oh, my children.

demogorgan (black dahlia-window):  I’m not quoting the lyrics you can just look it up.  it’s messed up.Based on the 1st person pov of Gilles de Rais -k**ler and p*d*rest who also kidnapped a cleric.

Will (creature comfort)-Some boys hate themselves.Spend their lives resenting their fathers... hate their bodies .Stand in the mirror (another mirror ref) and wait for the feedback.Some boys get too much, too much love, too much touch.

Jonathan’s Playlist- We’re happy family: “Eating refried beans (poverty). Gulpin’ down Thorazines (pills for a mood disorder). We ain’t got no friends (s2 ref). Our troubles never end. Daddy likes men. Daddy’s telling LIES.”

Jonathan’s playlist-Enter sandman: “Don’t forget my son. Sleep with one eye open. Gripping your pillow tight, Exit light, Enter night. Take my hand, we’re off to never-never land. Something’s wrong, shut the light, heavy thoughts tonight. Dreams of LIARS and of things that will bite, yeah. Hush little baby don’t say a word, and never mind that noise you heard. It’s just the beasts under your bed, in your closet in your head.”

Jonathan (The killing moon-guy sings this)-So soon you'll take me up in your arms. Too late to beg you or cancel it. Against your will!He will wait until you give yourself to him...In starlit nights I saw you.So cruelly you kissed me... unwillingly mine.

jonathan (haunted)-You and I both know that the house is haunted And you and I both know that the ghost is me. You used to catch me in your bed-sheets just a-rattling your chains.Well back then , it didn't seem so strange...In the midnight hour..I was busy trying to charm that snake. When the sun came up we had no place to hide...You and I both know that the house is haunted  yeah you and I both know that the ghost is YOU! You used to walk around screaming, all slamming all 'dem doors Well I'm all grown up now and I don't scare easy no more But you and I both know.

Hopper (Confession)-Now I'm on the low Confession, to a virgin ghost Admission, force you know.

hopper (Tomorrow ) Yeah, and back when s*x and amph*tamines were the staples of our childhood physique.

Max (Last caress)-I got something to say.I k**led your baby today.And it doesn't matter much to me.As long as it's de*d.Well I got something to say.I r*ped your mother today.And it doesn't matter much to me.As long as she spread. (Lonnie pov? Neil?messed up song to be on Max’s list)

hopper House of the rising sun- And my father was a gamblin' man Way down in New Orleans... And the only time he's satisfied Is when he's on a drunk

Max Poor relations-An attitude, no patience, he's paper thin.Talking over everything you have to say...Don't correct the things he said, what's the use?Can't handle violence.Can't handle violence.Learning to love the abuse you can't live without.Your familiar oppression, your daily injustice...That loser man that belongs to you, he's ruling you.

el (sweet dreams are made of this)- Some of them want to use you ...Some of them want to ab*se you.Sweet dreams are made of this...Hold your head up.Keep your head up, movin' on.

Max (Alternative ulster)-They say they're a part of you.And that's not true, you know.They say they've got control of you.And that's a lie, you know.They say you will never Be free, free, free

max In bloom-”Sometimes at night I let it get to me.And last night it had me down and feeling NUMB...And thinking back upon those days Way way back when I was young.I was such a little shit.Cos I was always on the run.Well you know just what they say-Just like father then like son.Don't delude me with your sympathy.Cos I can do this on my own.And this will be the last time-That I break down and wanna crawl to bed. “(since Billy has a playlist I found this song choice being on hers instead of his interesting- in fact almost all of Max’s songs are from the 1st person perspective of a boy unlike the other gals.)

Max (comfortably numb)-The child is grown.The dream is gone.I have become comfortably NUMB.

hopper (numb)-Honey, here I go again Down that crooked road of sin.My momma locked me out again And hung me high to rust under the rain I am NUMB( 8x)....Little bluebird at my window Sing a pretty song for me Don't you know that you can fly, fly, fly away Don't you know that you can leave I am numb.

other psych songs

Hopper (life of sin)-Every morning when I rise I look in the mirror (another mirror ref) and despise the sight of everything and all that I've become. The level of my medicating some might find intimidating But that's alright cause' it don't bother me none.

 Max (Moon over marin)- “Dive in my scalding wooden tub (connects to mf/el)...There, wasn't that a nice visit?Don't forget, a psychiatrist is on duty twenty-four hours a day in the blue room...Drink plenty of water when you take these.Now you can relax.” ( I wonder if stranger writers saying to “drink plenty of water” is secretly a line said by a psych person in s4?)

Max (Feeling ok)-My doctor says that I should take it -At least I won't have to keep faking.I know, someday I'll find it-Where I, I least expect it.Today I know I feel ok.

Max ( Going gets tough)-.No home since the fire.Me and the ash can't settle down...So I sink another round-Placebo for pain.And there's no one for to blame . I refuse to accept-That my work is all in vain...Still always remembering .When the going gets tough .That the labor of our love-Will reward us soon enough.

 Max (Comfortably numb)-Hello? (Hello? Hello? Hello?)Is there anybody in there?Just nod if you can hear me.Is there anyone home?Come on now-I hear you're feeling down.Well I can ease your pain .Get you on your feet again.Relax // Now I've got that feeling once again.I can't explain . you would not understand.This is not how I am. I have become comfortably numb.I have become comfortably numb //Okay (okay, okay, okay)Just a little pinprick.There'll be no more, ah .But you may feel a little sick.Can you stand up?I do believe it's working, good.That'll keep you going through the show.Come on it's time to go// Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.

Explanations of Why the mf  (WIll the wise)behaves the way he does

demogorgan (ww) (Cowards starved)- friends think of me as a priest.I had to show them that the weakest hands Can still make impressive fires. (aka MF = will the wise)

demogorgan (ww) (Unmerciful):I will be reborn...Tranquil demeanor.Now devoured.Surfacing malice...I can't reconcile the torment others bring unto me.I will not take any reproach.Turning the other cheek.Relentless hatred consumes.Control released.Absolved of all compassion.I am free .Look into my hate filled eyes and tell me What do you see?Surging aura of my rage Paralyzing you in fear.

Demogorgan (ww) (bodies-Beaten why for (why for)?Can't take much more.(Here we go, here we go, here we go).One, nothing wrong with me,Two, nothing wrong with me.Three, nothing wrong with me.Four, nothing wrong with me.One, something's got to give.Two, something's got to give.Three, something's got to give now...You're all by yourself but you're not alone...Driven by hate consumed by fear.

demogrgan (ww)-Orbs used as transmitters carry electromagnetic beams from above (affecting magnetic fields in the show).Silence, manipulated, tortured ...How immune is your system of suffering?Its in the blood of suffering (familial ref).Its in the blood.

 Demogrgan (Monster)-I shoot the lights out..Whoa, just another lonely night...None of who you get it, ain't nobody cold as this.A zombie (will ref) with no conscience .Everybody knows I'm a motherfucking monster. Everybody wanna know what my Achilles' heel is? Love I don't get enough of it.

[sichengtual]

meeting taeil under the falling snow was your one long-standing traditions, tending to your feelings until they, like flowers, were ready to bloom in full.

— pairing: moon taeil x reader.

— au: soulmates.

— genre: fluff.

— word count: 1767.

— playlist: more than words — extreme; on the snow — exo.

for @seodami​, from your @neoculturechristmas​’s secret santa! i had a lot of fun writing this for you, and i hope you’ve been enjoying enjoying your holidays! here’s a little something for you 💓

You had always known both you and Taeil were creatures of habit. 

It had been clear, since the very beginnings of your relationship, that part of the reason you understood each other so well was because you functioned so similarly in the first place. You had met in between previously set scenes, noticed each other purely because of the way you blended yourselves right into each other’s lives so naturally, it was hard for you to tell when you had started to blend into one cohesive picture to begin with. 

He felt like a childhood friend and a mysterious stranger all at the same time: with the sense of familiarity that could only belong to a bond that has been created in the course of a lifetime, and the excitement behind getting to meet him almost once again every time he showed you a new side of himself. You had always known it was special, how he could make you feel known yet undiscovered with a single look, with something in his eyes letting you see the exact point where both outlooks intertwined. You had always felt it was unique, with the calmness behind his smile and the thrill behind his voice — and you had always been sure he had felt it too. 

Despite the brief four years of knowing each other, in a way, it almost felt like he had always been there. Like he had always belonged in your life just like you had always belonged in his, your meeting being the final piece of a puzzle that had been many years in the making, the finishing touches of a life’s work masterpiece. Him being in your life, somehow, made sense. 

And, as such, it became hard to imagine what it would have been like if he wasn’t. Looking back, there were so many things in your life you could connect back to Taeil, even when at a simple glance, none of them had really anything to do with him. He was just there, sunk so deep in the back of your mind that he was the sole protagonist of your thoughts and dreams even when he’s miles away.

The two of you held mirroring tattoos in the exact same way you had mirroring souls, each one of the lines drawn on your skin signaling the other that you were there.

But as much as Taeil lived inside of you as you lived inside of him, accepting the soulmate bond meant having to live life as two instead of one. It required commitment, and even though the two of you already knew you were gonna end up together, you agreed that feelings, just like flowers, can’t be pressured into blooming.

Taeil always met you at the Winter Carnival at exactly 7 p.m, as if on clockwork. He always waited next to the tallest lightpost, a bag of toasted chestnuts you’d share as you walked along the hundreds of small, fairy lights clad tents. Taeil would often stop and look at the little trinkets that were offered in the small shops, not buying anything unless you liked it.

“I just like doing it,” Taeil would always say. “It’s not that it’s anything big, it’s just something for you to think of me.”

You were sure he bought them to remember you, too. To look back and think of the colorful little trinkets he had purchased, recalling the memory of your hands brushing together as you walked side by side just as night started to fall. 

It was just you and him, meeting each other once a year before it got dark. In a sense, it was a sort of sign, reminding you of each other right before the new year rolled around. It gave you something to hope for, a sort of beacon at the end of the way. 

Just like that, just as time passed, you had started to fall in love with Taeil in the way people were expected to fall in love with their soulmates: completely and whole-heartedly. It almost felt like diving head first straight into the ocean, breaking through the icy waters in the promise of finding something so precious on the other end of the shore it gave you a rhythm to follow, a path to swim by. 

And you finally decided to tell him. 

Snow has just started falling when you leave the house.

It’s no different from every other carnival day: cool gusts of wind, warm spiced scents, bright flickering lights. People pass by you as you make your way into the fair, barely even brushing shoulders before they go back to being just a part of the background, holding no more significance than a brief locking of sights. Noises mix in together like an intricate score, voices and melodies composing an accompanying piece that set the beat not only to your steps, but to the scene as a whole. 

You’re surprised by how different it makes it feel; feeling happier with laughter and more neutral with the lack of it, occasionally setting your attention in the background accompaniments such as the soft ring of a bell or the muted honk of a horn. In complete honesty, it’s a picture perfect rendition of a scene only seen in movies, and it doesn’t help feeling like both you and Taeil could set its entire course with only a change in conversation. 

He’s waiting for you, holding a small white paper bag, like he always does. He’s dressed in warm, layered clothes, a smile on his lips only growing with each and every step you took in his direction. Small, almost translucent snowflakes are beginning to fall over his head, adorning the strands of hair that fell over his forehead, and you couldn’t help but think of just how much the current scene resembled one straight of a frame belonging in the Louvre. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” are the first words he says when looking at you. They carry a weight behind them, an actual sense of longing produced by the cruel passing of the time in which you were apart. 

His voice feels warm. 

“You got a haircut.” 

“Yeah,” he smiles. “Do you think it suits me?” 

“I think you’re absolutely rocking it.”

It’s not unusual for Taeil to grow shy. Even after the years and years you’d known him, he still blushes at your compliments, no matter how hard you try to convince him your words spoke nothing but the truth. He knew that, though, because your voice made everything sound like something he’s always been aware of. 

“Here, have some,” Taeil offers you a sheepish smile before he extends the paper bag in your direction. “They’re still warm.” 

Still looking at him, you take one of the chestnuts from the bag and propped it into your mouth, the salty top layer in the snack immediately melting in your mouth. Moving closer to him, you let your hand brush against Taeil’s free one, immediately following his steps as he starts walking. 

And, in all honesty, the atmosphere never stopped surprising you. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the light reflect upon Taeil, illuminating his face in an ensemble of warm, combining colors. You can only imagine the effect it must have on his eyes, bringing out their own natural glow in the exact same way it painted them in a kaleidoscope of different shades of Christmas. 

It’s funny when you recall this is the most magical night of the year. You think of having felt just that in Taeil’s embrace, having heard magic in his voice. You’re sure that his presence in your life is exactly what makes it magical, and get to feel just that when he takes your hand in his. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” Taeil says, his voice bringing you back from your haze. “About what we’re gonna do from now on.”

You nod, trying to get him to continue. You want to tell him you’ve been doing the exact same thing, thinking about moving forward, finally taking a step. But you wait until after he speaks, wanting to know what his stance is in the matter, getting to know both sides before pulling together a story. 

You can’t really make out what it is, but there’s something about Taeil’s voice that gives you hope. You keep walking through the growing crowd, having to move closer together to walk next to together next to the waves of people. Somewhere in there, Taeil finally laces your fingers together, feeling your heart growing warm.

“I know we decided to wait before we finally accepted what we are, and what it means for us,” he says. “We took what fate gave us and let it grow on its own accord, and now it doesn’t really feel like it was something made for us. It feels as if we’ve the ones that made it, growing closer because we wanted to, and not because it was simply imposed on us.” 

Taeil gives your hand a squeeze. 

“I’ve fallen in love with you the way it should be. It feels like I’ve been dreaming, somehow being happier in a dream that I’ve ever been while awake. And all this time, I was only dreaming of you.” 

You’ve reached the middle of the fair, coming to a stop next to your bench, right in front of the brightly lit carrousel. There’s a live band playing somewhere near, music reaching your ears right as you stop walking, and a strong scent of warm cider coming from somewhere in the tents. You turn to look at Taeil, looking at all the snow that has gathered on top of his head, and the slight blush on his cheeks that you can’t tell if it’s a product of his words or simply a reaction from the cold. 

You decide you don’t have to know.

“I’m in love with you too,” you say. “And not because of fate, but because of you. Fate only helped us find each other, but the rest grew from here. From us.” 

Taking a step in your direction, Taeil finally kissed you under a thousand flickering fairy lights. It was a change in the routine, a new tradition only but growing from an already existing one. Maybe the meetings under the snow were coming to an end, but you’d take a thousand sunny days by Taeil’s side over standing alone under the rain. 

Right there, with snow falling right on top of your head, you had never felt so warm.

[impalementation]

I’m doing a rewatch since btvs just got added to prime video and am just beginning s2. Watching When She Was Bad is super interesting knowing the events post-The Gift. Do you have any thoughts on how Buffy acts in relation to her trauma from being killed? I think her actions (as well as the other Scoobies responses to those actions) in s6 are completely foreshadowed in that particular episode of s2.

Man I love When She Was Bad, I’m always hyped to talk about it. I had a great exchange with @visitingthefuneralhome about it, that talks a bit about her handling of her trauma that you might be interested in. Putting the rest under a cut for length.

I agree that lot of season six is foreshadowed in that episode. Not necessarily intentionally, but definitely in the sense of establishing patterns of behavior that season six continues. I’d rope Anne and Dead Man’s Party into this too, since those are also episodes in which Buffy and the Scoobies are responding to an end-of-season trauma.

Two big things stand out to me about these three episodes. First is the fact that Buffy consistently responds to trauma by isolating herself, and has difficulty talking about her problems with her friends. In When She Was Bad she isolates herself by acting out, and not talking about how her death affected her. In this other post I made about the episode, I talk about how the episode uses imagery around gaze to show how Buffy is hiding herself from her friends. Similarly in Anne she isolates herself by literally running away, and in Dead Man’s Party she once again struggles to talk about what she’s really dealing with. Similarly to how Buffy will isolate herself in season six by not talking about heaven and spending all of her time with Spike.

The Scoobies, for their part, desperately want Buffy to be okay, and act confused that she isn’t. In When She Was Bad they wonder why Buffy’s acting like such a “bitca”, in Dead Man’s Party they’re hurt that she abandoned them and have that whole party confrontation scene, and in After Life and Flooded (and other parts of season six), they crowd around her and fret about the ways she isn’t acting like herself. In all of these cases, a lot of that Scooby response is based on not really understanding what Buffy is going through--partly because Buffy doesn’t communicate it, and partly because they didn’t experience it themselves. In When She Was Bad they don’t understand that she was traumatized by her death until the scene where she destroys the Master’s bones, in season three they don’t understand the degree to which she was traumatized by killing Angel until the end of Faith, Hope & Trick when she admits that Angel had his soul, and in season six they don’t understand that she is dealing with having been pulled from heaven until the end of Once More, With Feeling.

I mention in that post I linked on gaze in When She Was Bad that there’s an interesting similarity between the bone-smashing scene and the heaven-revelation scene in that they both have long lingering reaction shots on the faces of the Scoobies. In both scenes, Buffy is center-stage and all of them are looking at her, finally seeing her. That imagery of “everyone looking at Buffy” shows up in other places, too. I made a connection between Dead Man’s Party and Bargaining, Part 2 once, because both have shots of all of the Scoobies gazing at a returned Buffy. And I also once pointed out how that’s a repeated visual motif in early season six: Buffy standing opposite a crew of uncomprehending Scoobies. (Hope the references to past posts aren’t annoying, I get excited when I can finally link a bunch of disconnected observations together). Point is, the show makes a strong connection between trauma and isolation for Buffy, both because of Buffy’s own actions and because of how that trauma can set her apart from her friends. As Buffy will make explicit in Conversations With Dead People, her trauma is all tied up in her hero-ness and slayer-ness and leader-ness, all of which already set her apart.

BUFFY: I feel like I'm worse than anyone. Honestly, I'm beneath them. My friends, my boyfriends. I feel like I'm not worthy of their love. 'Cause even though they love me, it doesn't mean anything 'cause their opinions don't matter. They don't know. They haven't been through what I've been through. They're not the slayer. I am.

These next few paragraphs are a bit self-indulgent, BUT: to loop back to that first post I linked, the show also makes a consistent connection between trauma and agency for Buffy. The ur-source of Buffy’s problems is being the only Slayer, something she didn’t choose (instead, she is the “Chosen One”). In Prophecy Girl, this lack of choice is emphasized by the fact that Buffy feels beholden to a prophecy, to fate. Ie, something she has no choice about. And despite the fact that she survives her death, that death is still very much a symbol of her lack of agency, especially because she didn’t even choose to be brought back to life either. Similarly in season six, she is brought back to life by her friends. There was no choice there. The season six resurrection feels especially like a betrayal of Buffy’s agency because her sacrifice in The Gift was framed mostly positively in a way her sacrifice in Prophecy Girl wasn’t. In Prophecy Girl she didn’t want to die (“I don’t wanna die”), and there’s no indication that anyone besides her can fulfill the prophecy in that episode. Whereas in The Gift she willingly chooses to sacrifice herself instead of Dawn, and is shown to be at peace with that decision. (I’d actually even say that Buffy’s depression in season six isn’t about having died, the way it was in When She Was Bad--it’s about having to be alive, and carry on with all the difficult things associated with that.)

With this in mind, I tend to see a lot of Buffy’s traumatic responses as being about her trying to assert agency in whatever way she can, even if it isn’t necessarily healthy or nice. So her taunting Xander in When She Was Bad is about her exerting control over him and Angel, feeling like she has power. I think you could also see her self-isolation as being about agency, in that if she pushes her friends away she’s chosen for them to not understand. Instead having to deal with the ways that they wouldn’t understand her regardless. (That’s a bit more headcanon-y on my part though).

In this light, Buffy in season six actually has a really interestingly complicated relationship to agency. On the one hand, she struggles with having been brought back to life, and having to deal with all of these obligations that she didn’t choose. But unlike in the earlier seasons, when she chafes against duty, and asserts her right to a “normal life”, Buffy in season six kind of doesn’t want agency. So for example with Spike, on the one hand, she’s the one who instigates the house-sex in Smashed (agency), but she only does so after Spike tells her that she came back wrong, which allows her to not be responsible for that choice (not-agency). Note how in Dead Things Buffy breaks down after Tara tells her that there’s nothing wrong with her, in part because it means that all of her choices were her own all along. There’s interesting ambiguity about whether Buffy is trying to get control of something (“I just wanna feel”) with Spike, or lose control. Similar to how there’s interesting ambiguity about whether Willow wants to get or lose control via magic. 

So part of my read of season six is that Buffy getting “healthy” again involves her wanting and accepting agency again. Getting back to that “I don’t wanna die” from Prophecy Girl. I like this read because of how it expands on Buffy’s earlier trauma responses, while also being distinct from them. In season six, Buffy partly responds like she’s always responded to bad things happening to her--isolating herself, being “bad”, etc--but the added layer of her abdicating agency shows how apart she really feels from herself, and how unengaged in life she really is. It’s what distinguishes Buffy being traumatized in season two from her being depressed in season six. If something bad happens once, you rebel against it. But if bad things keep happening, you rebel by just giving up. And in order for Buffy to move forward, she has to find a way to feel that not-giving-up is worth it. 

[kandyrezi]

+ Anonymous said: Reficul and Sin headcanons

+ Anonymous said: Refisin nsft headcanons please❤

[ ♡ / ♢ ] Reficul x Sin HCs.

• Reficul had originally been a seraph who rebelled against her creator because of her own arrogance and pride, wanting to be the most powerful divine entity even above god, but when she was banished and fell out of heaven with a sword pierced deep into her chest, she fell deep into the shadowed, forbidden realm in the underworld. Sin was the one to find her bloodied and beaten up, floating in a river. The serpent took the angel to a quiet place to heal her wounds. Since Sin is one of the few creatures above the devil in terms of power, she was also the one to turn her into a devil. Sin used to rule over the Pentagram world before Reficul took over, but the serpent is still the most powerful creature in the demon world.

• Of course Reficul had heard of her former comrades talking about a ruthless serpent that lives in an unknown realm beyond where her god’s world lies. Reficul and Sin created a place together for all those fallen from heaven who sided with the former seraph.

• Reficul laments about her defeat for a long time, but this demon with a gentle smile, who saved her from certain death and offered to create a place for demons to live in, gradually begins to make her soul - her entire being feel whole again.

• Reficul has always felt like she’s above everyone else, but Sin is the first being she allowed to break the walls she’s built within around herself, and now views her as someone equally powerful, worthy of eternal devotion.

• Their wedding ceremony was rather small, despite them being the two most important figures in the underworld. Reficul believes their love is something special and to be kept between just the two of them, and Sin didn’t much care for a big audience either.

• They got married high up on a mountain with the main city standing tall yet faint in the distance.

• They said “I love you” for the very first time to eachother at the altar.

• Reficul brings Sin home souvenirs and trinkets from other worlds. She knows Sin has somewhat of a bad habit of hoarding items, but the devil thinks it’s quite endearing for someone otherwise so orderly.

• Reficul also brings Sin along for sightseeing in other worlds and has introduced her to some of her acquaintances - at least she and Satanick are somehow by miracle getting on well.

• They used to not get a lot of couple time together late at night after their matrimony when Mors was still little and would crawl into their bed after a nightmare, which happened so frequently Reficul didn’t believe he was really telling the truth and was just too overly attached to his serpent mother.

• Sin coils her tail around Reficul’s middle in early crack of dawn before work and always gives her a kiss, “Good morning, dear.”

• Similarly, Reficul will go up to her wife from behind when she’s occupied with another task like cooking or sewing embroidery, wrapping her hands around her waist and pressing a gentle peck on the forehead.

• Sin visits Reficul at work sometimes to bring her something to eat, but the devil really just uses it as an excuse to slack off and drop the remaining work onto her right-hand man, Lzet, going out to have a little lunch picnic date with the wife instead.

• Reficul keeps a silver pocket watch decorated with small lilies with her, that Sin gifted her, at all times - whilst Sin keeps a golden pocket mirror. They gave these items to eachother on the same day Reficul proposed to Sin. A keepsake to always remind their spouse of eachother whenever they're far apart... or should something happen to either of them.

! explicit under the cut !

• On the more raunchier side… it’s usually all soft lovemaking, but that doesn’t mean things don’t get kinky, especially by Sin herself, who likes to put on an innocent face, but is in reality as much of a mischievous demon like the rest, in quite various ways – she likes to experiment and see what really makes her beloved tick. One of the salacious things they’ve gotten up to is Sin having Reficul drink a powerful aphrodisiac and see how many times in a row the devil queen can orgasm – thirteen is so far the highest record.

• Sin is more into foreplay and teasing than the actual act of intercourse, so Reficul makes sure to drag it out as long as possible, paying each part of her wife as much attention as possible.

• Reficul is something of a service top – she knows every bit of the body belonging to her dearest in intricate detail and what makes her writhe and come undone fastest.

• Sin would usually be a (gentle) dom with anyone else, but Reficul is the only one she submits to. She is normally the one tending to other people during the day and aiding them with their problems, so it’s nice to be taken care of during the night once they’re all alone.

• Sin doesn’t make a lot of noise, but she does whimper sometimes, whilst Reficul is mostly quiet overall, but that’s to be expected when her mouth is too occupied with leaving deep kisses on the other woman’s skin.

• Both Sin and Reficul have interchangeable genitalia, but Reficul usually favors having a cock. Sin, not nearly as much, but when she does choose to do so, another one of her “abilities” is able to cum aphrodisiac.

• Being a naga, Sin naturally sports two cocks, which is... an interesting time when they choose to do double penetration. Sin usually has her tail underneath Reficul’s thighs for support during these sessions, it can easily become overwhelming, though nothing the devil can’t handle.

• Reficul is not much of a tease, but she is rather romantic, more so with gestures rather than words – not that it doesn’t mean she is not a master at both if so her beloved desired.

• Sin has a bit of an affinity for seeing Reficul wearing pretty, dark red lingerie or airy ciffons with cute floral ornamentation.

[daebakinc]

Hero Among Thorns - Pt 5

Pairing: Hyunwoo x Reader Genre: Undercover Detective AU, Action, Romance Word Count: 2.5K Summary: When a mistaken connection results in your kidnapping by one of the city’s most notorious gangs, the undercover detective Hyunwoo has no choice but to rescue and protect you, and, most dangerously of all, fall in love with you. Warning: Mentions of violence and blood. Parts:  1, 2, 3, 4 

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Even the most hobbit-like homebody has their limits. You really thought your tolerance for staying inside the apartment with no job and no bills to worry about would be high. You really did.

Hyunwoo stayed with you for a few days, then handed over the majority of his babysitting duty to a rotation of his team members, minus Minhyuk. He’s still avoiding you.

In contrast, the others have ensured you want for almost nothing. Kihyun and Hyungwon delivered what they could of your apartment, moving furniture and other items into a spare room at their shop. Those they couldn’t salvage, they replaced. Jooheon and Hoseok never seem to run out of stories of their team’s adventures and misadventures alike. Changkyun has procured a digital copy of any and every movie and television show you ask for to fill your days. When you asked if they were all legal, he’d only winked.

Despite your wheel of protectors, every night, Hyunwoo returns. Some nights, it’s so late he has to wake you up from the couch so you can go to bed. You do try to stay awake, but it doesn’t always work. As much as you like the other members of his team, it’s your time with Hyunwoo that you look forward to the most. If you spent time thinking about how much you anticipated his return, you might be embarrassed.

At first, you’d awkwardly moved around each other like two newly-assigned dance partners. Overly polite, careful of each other’s space. Eventually, you felt each other out and fell into a routine that fits the two of you. He makes dinner with your help or brings takeout, which the two of you eat while only talking to comment on some aspect of the food, sometimes followed by a movie that Hyunwoo usually sleeps through half of, before heading to your own bedrooms. Hyunwoo drops little details about his days that he spends away from you, but never too much. He tells you most of it is too boring to bother with.

That hurt a little at first, but you always remind yourself of your situation. You’re his charge, his witness. Not his girlfriend or confidant. You like to think you’re becoming friends at least. Never mind that you harbor the secret fantasy of becoming more.

Maybe that internal conflict helped contribute to the fact that it only takes two weeks before you get stir crazy. Two weeks, three days, and only God knows how many hours, minutes and seconds. You now catch yourself staring out the window, heart sour apple green with envy at the people walking down the street. Getting to do normal things like shop at whatever stores they please, feel the wind and sun whenever they want, see something other than the same gray walls and window view.

If you were in the basement of the apartment building, you’d be seriously considering pulling a Count of Monte Cristo and dig your way out with nothing more than a spoon. Or tie your bed-sheets together and rappel down the side of the building. Though both the crawling and rappelling would be hard with one arm out of commission…

“Whatcha thinking about?”

Hoseok’s voice startles you, but this time, you don’t fall off the window seat. For such a big man, he can move as quietly as a cat when he wants. Very, very slowly, you’re getting use to that.

“Can you rappel down a building with one arm?” you ask, not taking your eyes from the window.

“Technically, but I wouldn’t recommend it. One slip and you’re a pancake on the pavement if your rigging isn’t properly set up. And that’s if one arm can handle your whole body weight with gravity pulling on it,” he answers candidly. He sits on the opposite side of the window sill. “Why?”

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” you sigh, “but I’m sick of this apartment. I want fresh air.”

“Open the window then.”

By now, you know when he’s teasing and sure enough, when you look at him, that smile is on his face. You push his foot off the sill with yours. “You know what I mean. I want outside. Isn’t keeping someone in a single space for an extended amount of time a form of torture?”

He gasps dramatically, a hand over his heart. “My presence is torture?” When he grins at your giggle, you know that was his whole point.

“You know what I mean. If I have to look at these same walls for any longer … I feel like I’m going to go crazy.”

“In my defense, I did try to convince Hyunwoo we should paint the place. Make it more homey. I suggested blue, but –”

“Hoseok.”

“I know. I don’t think I could do it myself,” he admits with a sigh. Solemnly, he adds, “We’re just trying to keep you safe. Yew has been quiet since your kidnapping. That could mean he’s decided his threat worked or he’s planning something worse.”

“I know. I appreciate it, but wouldn’t Yew think it’s weird that Hyunwoo’s not letting me go anywhere? Like even if I’m a kept-woman or baby-mama or whatever gangsters are supposed to have.”

“A kept-woman?” Hoseok bursts out laughing. He puts his foot back up. “How old are you, grandma? Who says that anymore?”

“You know what I mean. That’s why I added ‘baby-mama’,” Childishly, you stick out your tongue at him. “I’ve been on an old Hollywood binge lately.”

“Still,” he says, wiping the tears that had leaked from the corner of his eyes. “Look, you kind of have a point. I don’t think Yew is going to try to get to you again as long as he believes you’re with Hyunwoo and not a witness. I’ll can talk to Hyunwoo.”

“Really?”

Hoseok holds up his hands at your ecstatic expression. “I’m not promising anything. Like I said, keeping you alive is the biggest priority next to bringing Yew down. Hyunwoo is the ultimate authority in that regard. He makes the final decisions.”

“I’ll take anything, Hoseok. Even just a walk around the block or the roof.”

A few days later, Hyunwoo doesn’t leave directly after breakfast like usual. Instead, after he rinses your cereal bowls, he stays in the kitchen.

Glancing at your arm, he asks, “Would you like to go out?”

Go out? The water you were drinking rebels, shooting down your windpipe. You splutter and cough, trying to get a hold of yourself. That’s a little difficult with Hyunwoo pounding on your back a little too hard to be really helpful. Did he really say 'do you want to go out?’ With him?

Finally gaining control, your voice hoarse, you repeat his question, “Go out?”

Hyunwoo backs away, still eyeing you worriedly. “Yes. It’d just be to the shop and back, but Hoseok said you needed to get out of the apartment. Something about the Geneva Convention.”

“Yes!” Any regret at your misinterpretation is forgotten at the prospect of breathing new air and returning in some capacity to the outside world. You have an excuse to wear real clothes, see real people! “Hell yes!”

You jump out of the chair, tripping in your hurry to get dressed. Hyunwoo steps in, saving you from falling flat on your face. Naturally, your good arm hooks itself around his waist.

He’s so warm. And solid, too. And smells like heaven on steroids. Even better than those fuzzy memories of yours. You feel your own body heat in response to the contact.

God, when did you get this easy?

“Are you okay?” Hyunwoo asks.

His words break the spell and you realize he’s stiff against you. Damn it, he’s probably thinking he never signed up to have some wounded, touch-starved woman clinging to him like a stoned koala.

In an effort to lessen the awkwardness, you turn the accidental embrace into a hug, immediately releasing him. “Yeah! I’m just really excited about going outside!” Without waiting for a response, you run out of the room.

Shimmying out of your pajamas and into a skirt is easy. Then comes the shirt. Jooheon had let you start moving your shoulder a few days ago, but you still have to be careful. With one hand, you manage to wriggle out of your tank top. You chose a clean one, but not before casting a longing look at a shirt with sleeves. Your choice proves wise though. Even lifting your arm to slide it through the top’s armhole makes the healing muscles scream at the stretch. They continue to ache as you readjust the shirt, but you ignore them. The intoxication of freedom, no matter how limited, mutes the pain.

You run back into the living room. “Ready!”

Hyunwoo nods and grabs his car keys. He opens the door for you, but catches your arm as you move past him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why?” you ask, puzzled. You may not have bothered with makeup, but you haven’t since you got here. Hyunwoo’s only seen it running down your face with tears.

“You’re sweating.” He points to your forehead.

You wipe at it, instinctively using your injured arm. The pain is instant. Hoping Hyunwoo didn’t notice your wince, you shrug it off. “Getting the shirt on was more work than I thought, I guess. I’m fine.”

He looks like he wants to say something. However, he doesn’t stop you again as you walk out. Hyunwoo takes the lead down the stairs after locking the door. As you follow him down the stairwell, he says, “We’re just going to the shop, staying a few hours, then coming back. Yew’s been too quiet for me to trust any side stops. When we’re outside, stay right beside me.”

“That’s fine,” you instantly reply.

You don’t meet another soul on the stairs and the lobby is similarly abandoned. It’s not surprising given the hour though. Those who work are long gone and just as far from returning home.

At the door, Hyunwoo pauses. You assume it’s to scan the street before exiting. Instead, he turns back to you. “Yew has at least one person watching this place. We want him to keep thinking you’re my girlfriend. That will keep you safe.”

“Okay.” You’re not quite sure where he’s going with this.

A hint of pink sprouts on Hyunwoo’s cheeks. He smiles, but it’s a different smile than you’ve seen before. It’s apologetic, with a hint of embarrassment.

“We’re going to need to make it believable. So, if you agree, I think we should engage in displays of physical affection.”

You can hear the echo of your jaw hitting the floor. “What?”

“Nothing you don’t consent to,” Hyunwoo rushes to reassure you. “All professional. Just physical touch on arms, waist, and hands.

“All that and no kissing?” you blurt out. Instant regret slams into you. “I mean, wouldn’t it be weird if we didn’t?”

Luckily, Hyunwoo laughs. He shifts his weight. “Yeah, I guess… Kisses on the head, forehead and cheeks should be okay. Right?”

Your eyes fall to Hyunwoo’s lips. You can’t help but feel robbed of the opportunity to kiss him there. Before you fell punch-drunk into your fantasies, you stop yourself. You need to look at this as some kind of weird, elaborate, dance-less ballet. Hyunwoo is your dance partner, not a boyfriend. This is a professional relationship, one your life actually depends on. You can’t fuck this up.

“Right,” you say.

“Good.” With one hand, Hyunwoo pushes open the glass door of the building. The other reaches out to you, palm open and ready.

With a fortifying breath, you take it.

That breath turns out to be about as useless as gulping for air in outer space without a helmet. As you step through the door, Hyunwoo pulls you into his side, his arm encircling your shoulder. From shoulder to hip, you’re glued against him.

You feel his lips graze against the top of your head. The touch is so light you almost think you imagined it. But then Hyunwoo whispers into your hair, “Ready?”

Heart thudding wildly, you look up at him. The smile on his face is full of affection. It’s so natural, you almost believe it yourself. You can only nod and smile, belatedly remembering you have a part to play too. Dazed, you let him guide you down the steps and down the sidewalk.

Hyunwoo stops halfway down the block. He keeps his arm around you like a shield the whole time. If the air hadn’t held a crispness, you would have definitely overheated. The chirp of a car unlocking and Hyunwoo easing away from you to open the door is enough to bring you back to reality. When you actually look at the car, you immediately wonder if you’re hallucinating.

Even to someone who isn’t a car enthusiast, the car breathes class. It lacks the bulk of most modern cars, instead celebrating sleekness from its slim, rectangular nose to mirror-image tail. Yet like its driver, you know beneath all that jet black metal is pure muscle. From the outside, the only hint of this is the silver head of a supercharger sitting on the hood.

The parallel is so perfect, you can’t help but laugh.

Hyunwoo backs away from you, startled.

“Dude, you’ve got to be kidding me. This is your car? This one?”

Hyunwoo looks at the car with its open door, then back to you. “Yes. Why?” he asks when you start laughing all over again.

“It’s a 1970 Dodge Charger R/T.”

Surprise is evident on Hyunwoo’s face. “Yeah. You know cars?”

“Not at all, but holy crap.” You slide into the front seat. Hyunwoo closes it behind you and circles the car to get in as well. “You don’t see why this is funny?”

“No. It’s a good car. Put your seat belt on.” He waits until you do so, then pulls away from the curb and into the street, but you can’t let it go.

“An undercover agent posing as the head of a mechanic shop that also deals with 'stolen’ cars and drives a black 1970 Dodge Charger R/T that’s been modified?” You watch his face, leaning forward so your seat belt presses into your chest. “Doesn’t sound familiar at all?”

Hyunwoo shakes his head.

“This is the exact model car driven by Vin Diesel as Dominic Toretto in The Fast and the Furious!”

“Never seen it.”

“Shut the damn front door. You’ve never seen The Fast and the Furious? Not one?”

“There’s more than one?”

At first, not a sound comes out of your mouth, too frozen in disbelief. You’re about to launch into a full geek rant when you notice a slight curve to the corner of Hyunwoo’s mouth. He’s not looking at you, his gaze purely on the road, but it’s there.

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” you say slowly.

A smile fully cracks through, broken by a low laugh that fills the car. “Of course I have. Minhyuk was obsessed with them. He made the entire team watch all of them one night after we got this assignment. I did own this car before I watched them though. It’s a good car.”

“You made it through the entire series in one sitting?” You whistle appreciatively.

“I saw the first one, but after that, they’re fuzzy,” Hyunwoo confesses. “I fell asleep.”

“Can’t blame you.” You shrug. “They’re like 16 hours altogether.”

Your bodyguard-slash-roommate nods, making a small sound in agreement.

Quiet settles between you after that. Where once it would have been tense or clumsy for you, it feels right. Comfortable. You don’t feel any need to fill the empty space in between the street noise and the engine’s sleek purr. Instead, you lean back against the leather seat and watch Hyunwoo with slight side glances.

You’re learning to read Hyunwoo’s silences. Sometimes, they can be just as articulate as if he had spoken with words.

His shoulders are relaxed beneath his dark jean jacket and his hands hold the steering wheel with the easy confidence of someone who knows they can handle the horsepower. Despite the mellowness of his body, Hyunwoo’s eyes keep a careful watch on the passing streets. They flicker left to right, then straight, then back again. Car, bus, and pedestrian get a quick threat assessment before being dismissed. He’s not very worried about an attack, but he’s not being stupid about it either.

Hyunwoo turns his head to turn down a street, facing you for a brief second. You notice suddenly that mouthed lyrics flow steadily from his lips right in time with the radio. The song is some oldie, the singer belting about freedom and fast cars. You wonder what his singing voice sounds like…

Out of nowhere, Hyunwoo says, “You should thank Minhyuk.”

“Minhyuk? Why?” you ask cautiously. Based on your last and only parting, you’re doubtful he’d give you the few seconds saying 'thank you’ would take. He’s the very last of the team you’d expect to be your advocate.

“He’s the one who finally convinced me to let you come with us.”

“Not Hoseok?”

He shakes his head. “Minhyuk,” he says with finality.

“Why?”

“Ask him yourself.”

Hyunwoo turns onto the curb and honks the horn three times. You glance out the window. The building is plain, gray concrete, a number of cracks showing its age like fine wrinkles. There’s a line of windows high in the front wall, but no sign to speak off. Nothing other than the two long, dulled and dented silver garage doors to indicate this is anything other than a warehouse.

One of the doors slides open. Hyunwoo pulls inside, the door closing just behind the car’s tail.

He only has time to turn off the car and slide the key from the ignition when Minhyuk appears at his window.

“We’ve got a problem,” he says, glancing at you.

[silyabeeodess]

FusionFall Headcanons: Individual Fusions

 Since the fusions’ personalities tend to mimic that of their OG counterparts and following the idea that they’re also greatly under Fuse’s control, I don’t know if I’ll have enough to talk about if I were to address each of them separately in their own posts.  Therefore, I’m going to bite the bullet and try to go through headcanons on every fusion below the cut.  This list may be subject to change if I decide later to include characters that I haven’t discussed much before due to which versions of the game they were added into. Wish me luck...

Ace: Fusion Ace isn’t overly dangerous, so you’ll find him just doing a step up above the small time crime the real Ace used to do, namely the mass destruction of property.  Since he actually makes a really convincing double of OG Ace though, he blends in well among Earthlings extremely easily so long as no one traces his fusion matter makeup.  He’ll occasionally work with Fusion Father to gather information or run other stealth missions.    

Albedo: Albedo’s fusion seems to share his narcissism.  Ironically though, without even caring about how much he looks like Ben... he looks more like him than the real Albedo does.  He’ll only take advantage of this when given the order to do so.  He and Fusion Ben sometimes work together to trick Fusion Fighters by double-teaming on their opponents in combat situations or convincing soldiers that only one of them was assigned to an operation so the other can work freely in secret.  He thinks his OG counterpart is a coward and has no respect for him or any other being that isn’t one of his allies.   

Ben (and his aliens): Fusion Ben’s “Omnitrix” is honestly more for looks than anything, but that doesn’t mean that every single one of his alien transformations pack any less of a punch.  He can often overwhelm his opponents by rapidly shapeshifting, and unfortunately looks close enough like the real Ben to trick Fusion Fighters into doing his bidding or fighting amongst themselves. Unlike OG Ben though, he shows little interest in being an actual leader, instead doing what he can to raise himself up and pinning any faults of his on those under his command. Alien versions split from this fusion share a similar mindset, but are often a lot weaker than Fusion Ben himself.       

Billy: OG Billy might not be the brightest, but his fusion is downright savage. Unusually keeping crouched low to the ground, he tends to move on all fours in a simian fashion.  He seems closer to the typical fusion monster than actual fusion, with just enough sentience to speak--occasionally--and lead a small pack of monsters at a time. Whether he’s naturally like this or it’s because Fuse is exuding too much of his own will over the fusion is unknown.  Nevertheless, that savagery makes his a fierce threat in combat.   He also seems to be attached to Dizzy World, likely due to a positive memory tied to the location passed onto him from the real Billy.

Bloo: Fusion Bloo is somehow even more selfish than the real Bloo can act... Outside of his fear and loyalty to Fuse, once his work is done, he does whatever he pleases that he knows he won’t get into trouble for.  Strangely enough, he seems to be one of the few fusions who takes an interest in things like eating despite the fact that he has no need to, as he took OG Bloo’s juicebox in “Leaderbored.”  His imaginary energy, meanwhile, gives him a jealous streak against OG Bloo: He wants the attention and companionship the other has, even if he doesn’t really understand the latter or why he wants either.  Those feelings have boiled down to him wanting to destroy the real Bloo, but a reluctance to honestly fight those Earthlings he sees as “friends.”         

Blossom: Unlike the real Blossom and Princess, their fusions actually get along because they’re both selfish and manipulative.  The one point where they butt heads is that, because of these same reasons, they rival each other for Fuse’s praise.  As of now, because of her powers, Fusion Blossom’s taken the lead.  She’s far more cruel than her counterpart, not hesitating to use violence to assert her position as leader of the fusion PPG. 

Bubbles: If the real Bubbles is sugar, Fusion Bubbles is poison.  She’s the kind of being who would only admire a butterfly if she’s tearing its wings off or an ant under a microscope as she attempts to set it on fire. She fights regularly with her fusion sisters for dominance, but gets along well with the fusion Kankers since she can lord over them easily and shares their overly sadistic streak.    

Buttercup: Next to Samurai Jack’s fusion, Fusion Buttercup was one of the first ones made.  While too reactionary and quick-tempered to lead, she’s had a long while to get used to how Fuse leads and what he wants, making her one of his favorites. As such, she’s more hesitant when it comes to fighting than OG Buttercup if she thinks that something might please/benefit Fuse if kept intact/alive instead.  This includes vital enemies wanted for their information or skill like Dexter.      

Cheese: Feelings toward this fusion are... conflicting, to say the least... OG Cheese has caused so much trouble for the Fusion Fighters that a lot of soldiers see a fusion of him as a means of forcing Fuse himself to suffer what they’ve had to deal with--potentially ruining his plans as their Cheese has for them. Sometimes, this happens: Sometimes, it doesn’t.  It’s still better to take him down when possible. Fuse hates this fusion, but has also discovered that it wields a surprising amount of power. In the mission “Assorted Cheeses,” this fusion showed that it could split apart into smaller monsters and reform itself similar to Echo Echo’s fusion.  How it has this ability remains a mystery, but it’s nonetheless useful to the tyrant. 

Coco: Unfortunately for Fuse, making this fusion did next to nothing to help him learn more about or capture the real Coco.  Even worse for him, Fusion Coco has a habit of helping his enemies instead.  Since she does this through her eggs, he can’t tell them apart from the ones OG Coco drops everywhere.  Often, the Fusion Fighters can’t either, so her secret is safe.  Her mind is greatly unstable, her desire to do good coming in bursts caused by whatever may trigger them in the moment.  Usually, this is if she sees someone in need/danger similarly to how the real Coco’s creator had been--which she subconsciously remembers.  The rest of the time, she’s extremely aggressive to her enemies and Fuse makes sure to keep her on a short leash.     

Coop: Fusion Coop was created in hopes of him finding a way to finally take over Megas.  However, while that’s a work in-progress, his inventiveness has equally been proven useful to Fuse’s forces.  He’s a bit of a sloth if he’s not interested in the assignment, but a good threat will jar him back in line.  He often serves under the other scientist Fusions like Dexter’s, Mandark’s, and Utonium’s rather than work completely independently.  He’s also good at breaking and entering.

Courage: Fusion Courage is probably the most unlike his OG Counterpart; bigger, badder, and always willing to put up a fight.  The main thing they share is their skill with computers.  According to “Critical Mission (Part 2 of 2),” Fuse put him in charge of one of his main communication hubs as a guard for the Fusion Uplink device.  His bite is far worse than his bark, bringing with it an intense fusion matter infection.  

Dee Dee: Fusion Dee Dee doesn’t have much to offer Fuse beyond her original purpose, but that purpose is extremely important to him when it comes to the war effort.  As of now, she’s still the most useful to him in finding a way to best Dexter and Mandark, since they’re responsible for creating nanos and a good chunk of the weaponry used against him.  However, she hasn’t been very successful so far, failing to manipulate Mandark or break into Dexter’s old lab due to the player’s actions. Her greatest strength is her agility, which allows her to slip in and out of trouble when it arrives.   If she ever succeeds in serving her purpose, Fuse will likely get rid of her.  The more aware part of her self is slow to act the more this becomes clear until his will takes over yet again, and she wants to prove that she can be useful to him in other ways.  

Demongo: The power to rob and enslave souls isn’t anything that Fuse would snuff at. With that ability, not only can he copy the strengths of the planet’s strongest fighters through the creation of fusions, he can actually force those fighters to submit to his own will!  This, combined with Fusion Demongo possessing both a knack for strategy and love for destruction, made the being an instant favorite of the intergalactic tyrant’s.  As such, he’s allowed more freewill than most others, assigned fusions to support him, and regularly given tools or victims to keep increasing his power such as the initial theft of the souls OG Demongo had stolen for himself and the quest to claim the ancient beast deep in the Fissure in Townsville Park.  If it weren’t for the Resurrect ‘Ems protecting Fusion Fighters from him as much as their own lives, he’d have an even more insane advantage than usual. Fuse may usually keep him close to his Lair to prepare for his arrival since the demonic creature is such a force to be dealt with, but there’s nothing this fusion would like more than to hunt down every strong foe he can find and prime them for capture.    

Dexter (and Computress): Fusion Dexter is a mad scientist with all the self-control needed to make him one of the most terrifying fusions in Fuse’s army.  He’s just as skilled as Dexter, but with none of the morality to stop him from taking his scientific endeavors to horrifying extremes.  While Fusion Utonium is the one that focuses the most on biotech, that doesn’t stop Fusion Dexter from running experiments of his own on live captives.  Furthermore, he’s ruthless toward any subject that fails to meet his desired results, willing to throw them away at a snap of his fingers whether they’re an enemy or ally.  Just good enough is not good enough for him, and he constantly seeks to improve whatever he makes for his own satisfaction as much as to please Fuse.  He feels he has a kind of secret rivalry with the real Dexter, that helping win the war also will establish himself as more than just a copy of someone else, but rather the improved version.  Like OG Dexter, he made his Computress, but he sees her as a replaceable assistant.  She, meanwhile, is rather emotionless compared to the real Computress since she wasn’t designed to be a free-thinking AI.      

Ed: According to Royal Ed-viser, Fusion Ed is responsible for studying dinosaur DNA to aid in the creation of fusion monsters.  This shows a level of intelligence that the real Ed doesn’t, likely run by OG Ed’s passion.  He’s possibly been forced to pool all of his focus into a sole purpose to give him that intellect and neglected a lot of the freewill other fusions have.  Nevertheless, his intense strength is equally as useful to Fuse for combat.

Edd: Fusion Edd mostly serves under Fusion Dexter or Fusion Mandark, depending on wherever he’s needed at the time.  Sometimes, it’s to assist them in their work; Other times, he serves as an independent saboteur.  Unlike the real Double D, he has no trouble getting his hands dirty, but does share that see-a-need-fill-a-need mindset--just for Fuse’s purposes instead of any good.  As a result, Fuse is often fine leaving him to his own devices when he has no particular orders.  He’s an extremely reliable fusion.

Eddy: Fusion Eddy shares OG Eddy’s arrogance, which often puts him at odds with other fusions until they or Fuse remind him of his place.  He’s extremely conniving, and holds a ruthless command over the fusion monsters under him, but isn’t very strong himself and will turn tail the moment a situation falls out of his favor.  This makes him just useful enough for Fuse to keep him around, but little more.  He’d do almost anything to rise up the ranks and become one of the tyrant’s favorites.    

Eduardo: Out of all the imaginary friend fusions, Eduardo’s is the one that’s been able to stay himself the most without Fuse finding out about how much freer he is from the hivemind than the others. This is because he’s too scared to refuse Fuse’s orders as much as he often wants to. As such, he helps the Fusion Fighters in secret when the urge becomes too great by leaving clues like in the “Fusion by the Sea” mission arc or slipping up on purpose.  He might get punished by Fuse or even destroyed by a Fusion Fighter, but so long as that secret is kept Fuse will keep recreating him due to his raw strength.  He doesn’t know why he cares about Earth so much and tries to talk himself out of it, but he can’t help himself.      

Father: Fusion Father is equally as deceptive and powerful as his counterpart.  His primarily dark form similar to the real Father’s allows him to sneak around on Earth better than most other Fusions--the main difference being that his flames are green instead of red/orange and he doesn’t have as good a control over his skinsuit.  He’s even managed to go so far as to establish himself among Earth’s small time crime rings to gain some monetary value and understand more about how the planet works and what the Fusion Fighters are doing.  This level of stealth and manipulation makes him a scary threat to deal with.    

Flapjack: Being a simple kid with the goal of becoming an adventurer, OG Flapjack didn’t have many great strengths of his own that would be passed onto a fusion of himself.  As such, Fuse never put much thought into Fusion Flapjack.  He’s weak, but harmless to his own goals.  As such, this fusion tends to carry out more menial tasks or is used as a distraction while more powerful fusions aim for their true objectives on missions.  When left to his own devices, Fusion Flapjack is more interested in causing mischief wherever he can with a mean streak that his OG counterpart would be ashamed of.          

Frankie: Similar to Fusion Mac, Fusion Frankie was created as a means of tricking and luring away imaginary friends.  After her defeat in “The Fraudulent Frankie” mission arc though, failing to overrun Foster’s Home and with the imaginary friends now aware and warned about her, she’s been severely demoted.  The only reason Fuse bothered to recreate her was because she can direct the Scribble Spawns and Extremospawns best: Another severe failure would likely end in her permanent destruction if she doesn’t prove her worth.  

Fuzzy Lumpkins: Fusion Fuzzy doesn’t show much sentience beyond his ability to wield a gun, and is often just used as a distraction or to attack civilian areas without restraint.  He’s only marginally brighter than the typical fusion monster, but often much stronger.

Grandpa Max: Fusion Max is surprisingly just as spry and smart as the real one--and unfortunately doesn’t have to worry about any years wearing him down!  This makes him a clever fighter that knows how to take down a soldier with or without a weapon.  Sadly though, he doesn’t share Max’s patience with anyone who stands against him.  

Grim: This fusion’s scythe might not be able to send you to the afterlife, but it can infect you with a strong dose of fusion matter if he lands a successful cut.  Effectively, this poisons the body to wear down an opponent, and can potentially take their life if he’s unable to strike them down first. Possibly due in-part to OG Grim’s long life and wealth of memories, Fusion Grim actually recalls quite a bit of knowledge regarding Earth and its history--which has served Fuse well in the search of useful tools or resources for the war effort. He’s also taken advantage of the suspicion of OG Grim being a traitor by tricking others and acting in a way to cement those worries. 

Gunter: This fusion’s form was... unexpected, in a good way--for Fuse at least.  While never having met Gunter’s past self as Orgalorg, Fuse knows enough about the being to want to untap its power for himself.  Unfortunately for him, Orgalorg’s penguin body on Earth has extended to his fusion, as well as OG Gunter’s memory loss from “The Comet”  making it nearly impossible for his fusion to also regain memories of that time or summon much of that nature. Only Fuse’s own evil allows a small fraction of “Fusion Orgalorg” to come out.  In the very least, Fusion Gunter is steadfastly loyal to both him and Fusion Ice King.  

Gwen: Fusion Gwen is a bit of a late creation, made in response to the activation of totems across the globe.  Even with her defeat, however, she’s still skilled enough to be useful to Fuse as both a fighter and in the search/destruction of magical artifacts.  Since she couldn’t stop the totems from activating, her job is to get now try to get rid of them.  She works under Fusion Hex.  

Hex: As much of what’s unknown about the realms of magic and the Underworlders to most of Earth, Fuse has no idea what they’re capable of or how much of a threat they may pose to him.  His goal is to either take or destroy those forces as a result.  Fusion Hex recalls enough of his OG self’s memories to track down various ancient relics, and he’ll often work with Fusion Grim or Fusion Juniper to achieve their lord’s goals.  He devotes himself to researching spells and at least trying to match his counterpart is magical prowess, since he doesn’t have all of his memories.  If he could, he would kill and steal from the real Hex.   

Him: This fusion’s strengths are as mysterious--if possibly a bit weaker than--his OG counterpart.  While his dark, magical abilities seem limitless, his state as a fusion force them to focus that power moreso on what he’s physically capable of rather than just summon whatever he wants or use mind control/empathic influence like the real Him can.  That doesn’t stop him from playing mind games with his opponents as he beats them to a pulp though.  Based on the mission “Doppleganger Gang,” he’s been ordered to capture heroes for Fuse--likely with the intention of feeding their souls to Fusion Demongo as the latter has already taken so many.   

Hoss Delgado: Fusion Delgado seems to be regulated primarily to being muscle and one of the main defenders of the massive Dark Engine located in Steam Alley.  He talks less than his OG counterpart, but has the same type of cybernetic modifications to his body and knowledge of combat/weaponry.  He can best be described as a fusion matter version of a Terminator. 

Ice King: Fusion Ice King is even more mentally unstable than OG Ice King, with no sign or even hope of him instead mimicking the trapped consciousness of Simon.  While removing his crown seems to dilute some of his power, it doesn’t seem to be the main source of it, but rather a means of keeping strongly connected to Fuse’s hivemind in a kind of dual consciousness. Overall, his only goal is cold, crazed, and poisonous destruction.  However, aspects of OG Ice King’s personality surface best in his relationship to Fusion Gunter and interest in... well, Earth’s females.  It’s not out of any sense of “love/affection,” warped or otherwise, and he doesn’t care about whether they’re a princess or not: It’s just a thing he remembers from the real Ice King.  As such, he’s more likely to capture rather than kill girls until he loses interest because he doesn’t even really  understand why he wanted to capture them in the first place unless Fuse or another fusion gives him a reason.  It’s all about a moment’s satisfaction that quickly burns out to him.      

Juniper Lee: If the real Juniper Lee is a protector of magic/magical beings, her fusion is a destroyer of them: Effectively, an anti-Te-Xuan-Ze.  As such, Fusion Juniper’s job is primarily to destroy all sources of magical power and ruin relations between magic creatures and the rest of Earth’s lifeforms by posing as OG Juniper.  What she doesn’t attempt to destroy, she tries to take for herself to boost her own power. She’ll sometimes work with Fusion Hex. 

Kevin: Just as how fusion matter allowed the real Kevin to be corrupted, it makes fusions of him too unstable to be of any use without turning into a regular monster or opposing force from absorbing combative energies/materials to its makeup.  As a result, you get the monstrosities fashioned similarly to his 11 year-old self when he was still struggling with his powers.  This fusion is a huge brute with an insane temper, but is always two seconds away from destabilizing if tricked into absorbing the wrong things.   

Lee, Marie and May Kanker: Even as fusions these three as inseparable.  Since they’re far weaker apart without any notable powers beyond enhanced strength, Fuse has kept them together during all of their tasks.  The OG Kankers may be bullies, but this trio has a sadistic streak that’s hard to match.  They will always play with and torment their enemies before ending them.     

Mac:  Due to OG Mac’s close ties to imaginary friends, his fusion was made in the hopes of tricking and luring them to capture--particularly Coco.  He’s not the strongest, but can turn wild if sent into a rage similar to how the real Mac gets after eating too much candy. Unfortunately, Fusion Mac was created using one of OG Mac’s backpacks, and after the player takes it in the mission “Pack Attack,” he’s been throwing a kind of permanent tantrum ever since.     

Mandark: Since Fusion Dexter is often leading the tech aspect of Fuse’s army, Fusion Mandark comes second with sabotaging or repurposing the Fusion Fighter’s tech--like rewiring Mandroids to make them work for him instead of the real Mandark.  He’s as intelligent as OG Mandark with less of the ego, particularly because if he showed it, he’d likely be punished for it.  Still, all of that outrage makes him all the more determined when hacking into systems and turning Earth’s machines against itself.  If he could though, he’s usurp Fusion Dexter as their lead scientist, and secretly looks for any flaw that might take the other down a peg.      

Mandy: Fusion Mandy isn’t known for her strength so much as her intellect and ability to manipulate others.  As such, while she’s often working behind the scenes with guards to protect her, she’s still a commanding officer in Fuse’s army with a hunger for power that rivals only her intense dominance of those under her.  Beyond seeing the advantages of having Earth’s living manifestation of Death on their side, she’s jealous of the OG Mandy for her authority of OG Grim--unable to enforce that same authority over Fusion Grim due to their ultimate loyalties to Fuse and separate orders.  As such, it’s her personal goal to get the real Grim under her control before Fuse consumes Earth.  (She has similar feelings regarding Fusion and OG Billy, but not to the same extent since his fusion is less of a challenge.)  She views her almost as a rival to steal everything from.  Also unlike OG Mandy, who is at least willing to show some compassion to those she’s close to, her fusion won’t hesitate to sacrifice her underlings to achieve victory--following Fuse’s mindset that they’re tools who can simply be recreated if desired.       

Mayor: Fusion Mayor is extremely weak, but far more ruthless than the real one.  Since he can’t really fight--and the Fusion PPG answer to Fuse directly instead of him--his primary tasks involve poisoning food supplies and similar objectives.  He’s small enough that he’s easily able to weave around forces when soldiers are distracted, and his fusion pickles look harmless enough at face value that he’s succeeded a good handful of times at infecting a whole cache of supplies.  One on one though, he’s easily beatable and Fuse doesn’t tend to put too much thought into recreating him until he’s fallen out of contact for too long.      

Mojo Jojo: At first he was confused, but there were no complaints from Fusion Mojo when his counterpart stole his fusion bananas and gave them to his minions--only for those minions to ally themselves to the former with several becoming Spawn Simians.  If OG Mojo is going to sabotage himself, then he can have at it! It makes his tasks creating tech for Fuse all the easier by giving him additional forces as backup.  As a result, he’s more concerned about other areas of the Fusion Fighters than his counterpart’s and can’t take them seriously.  He’d call the real Mojo an idiot to his face.         

Mr. Herriman: This fusion is exceptionally weak, but surprisingly diligent to Fuse despite being based on an imaginary friend.  He’s kept in the Darkland for two reasons: To be closely monitored and handle more of the organizational/administrative work behind the scenes.  As a result, he’s often silently hooked up to the hivemind to file away and pass along information while other fusions are distracted with other matters in real-time.  It’s not the most useful skill for them, but does speed things up.    The heavy workload also serves as a distraction in care he does feel a sudden rebellious streak.   

Numbuh One: Fusion Numbuh One is a fierce commanding officer, but worse is that he’s maintained a lot of the real Numbuh One’s memories of his time in the KND.  Beyond the dangerous of him possibly having important knowledge regarding the organization itself, this has allowed him to plot strategies involving emotional manipulation to attack Nigel and other members of the KND, such as kidnapping Robobradley in “Skunk Support.”  He also knows how much guilt Nigel feels over the events of the GKND, and isn’t afraid to use that against him and those he cares about.     

Numbuh Two: Fusion Numbuh Two isn’t one for direct confrontations.  Instead, he prefers attacking others through subtler means like poison in “Eduardo and the Pirates (Part 4 of 4)” or by sending out fusion monsters in his stead.  It might be a problem for Fuse if the fusion wasn’t so good at improving fusion monsters through his technological skills and increasing the defenses of areas he’s already captured by turning them into waiting death traps.  This lack of experience, however, serves to make the fusion both weak and overconfident when trouble does arrive on his doorstep.      

Numbuh Three: Fusion Numbuh Three prefers to capture her victims when she can rather than kill them.  However, this just comes out of a greedy, possessive desire.  If she sees something she likes, she has to have it--and that especially goes for the real Numbuh Three’s things.  If it’s an actual person in question, she’ll view them as a toy.  However, if you play along, you might have an easier time of tricking her and escaping.  Just make sure you succeed...

Numbuh Four: Fusion Numbuh Four isn’t very different from his counterpart, just that he’s serving on the opposite side of the war and can always focus 100% of his energy on his missions.  This basically makes him a fighting machine, who only seems to get stronger the angrier he gets in battle.  He’s often made to fight on the front lines.      

Numbuh Five: Fusion Numbuh Five shares a lot of the real Numbuh Five’s strengths, but is far more arrogant  She mocks her opponents constantly, doing whatever she can to through them off or upset them.  This includes going out of her way to upset OG Numbuh Five by stealing her candy and irradiating it despite it having little importance to the war effort.  She doesn’t seem to be as smart as OG Numbuh Five though, since she tried to make an imaginary friend of her own--likely as a minion--when fusions don’t have imaginary energy and was tricked into believing the player was that friend in “Imaginary Reinforcements (Part 4 of 4).”     

Princess: While not the most powerful, Fusion Princess’ combined tech and rage make her a fierce foe.  However, she often makes sure to let fusion monsters do her dirty work ahead of time or even tries to manipulate Earth’s denizens first with empty promises of gain before trying to get rid of them after their usefulness is up.  She belittles other fusions, starting fights with the more aggressive ones before their seniors threaten them back in line.   

Professor Utonium: To make himself all the more useful to Fuse--and partly in competition with Fusion Dexter--Fusion Utonium experimented on himself to increase his physical strength and give him tentacles shooting from his back as an additional weapon.  While Fusion Dexter focuses primarily on weaponry/cybernetics, Fusion Utonium focuses on biotechnology and mutations.  Rather than simply destroy Earth’s lifeforms, he wants to see how they might be further corrupted to serve Fuse.  He worked with Fusion Mandark to create the Scribble Spawns and works with Fusion Mojo Jojo to investigate the creation of the Spawn Simians.          

Samurai Jack: Noted as one of--if not the--first fusion created, he’s had more than enough time to prove his usefulness to Fuse with great success.  OG Jack is a warrior above all others among Earth’s forces, so his fusion plays a similar role.  Few have been able to face him in combat due to his strengths matching his counterpart’s: If he had all of OG Jack’s memories, without being controlled by Fuse’s hivemind as much as he is, he’d be pretty much unstoppable.  Even still, only those who have some guidance under OG Jack himself can really seem to face him. Similar to Fusion Demongo, Fusion Jack is kept in the Darklands as a means of leading/defending some of Fuse’s most important assignments/strongholds to the war effort.   

Stickybeard: Fitting of a fusion based on a pirate, Fusion Stickybeard’s main objectives involve attacking and pillaging from soldiers.  Most of his targets are those stationed away from the main bases, but he will occasionally steal from more important locations if given the order.  His work has caused a lot of trouble from ruining supply lines to robbing integral information to the war effort.  In the mission “Fusion Pirate’s Pillage,” he even managed to steal items for nano creation before the player stole them back.  

Tetrax: OG Tetrax’s intergalactic mercenary experience made his fusion just as tough to beat.  Not only can he handle fighting against Earth’s forces, but he also can direct some of Fuse’s allies like the Ectonurites.  Never losing his cool, he’s a strategic, ruthless general to the end.     

The Scotsman: Since this fusion’s sword doesn’t have the same magical properties as his OG counterpart, he’s mainly used as a relentless force of muscle--enough so to even gain a reputation among Earth’s soldiers. His Fusion Blade contains stronger concentrations of fusion matter than usual and therefore can infect victims with each cut like Fusion Grim’s scythe and Fusion Jack’s sword can. He often serves under Fusion Demongo, acting as an extension of the latter since he can’t often leave Fuse’s Lair.      

Toiletnator: This fusion is one that Fuse looks at and goes, “Well... you exist.”  He doesn’t have high expectations of Fusion Toiletnator, so he just lets another fusion give him orders for mostly menial tasks when needed.  He’s not as clumsy as his counterpart, so he’s actually quick to get his tasks done.    

Vilgax: While Fusion Vilgax is a powerful force to have on his side, Fuse really just savors having him due to how insulting he knows it is for the real Vilgax.  Fuse never thinks of most other lifeforms as much more than bugs to stomp out before he absorbs their words, but he’s actually had a few run-ins with OG Vilgax during previous conquests to think of him as a very annoying gnat.  Therefore, while he entrusts Fusion Vilgax with serious missions, he’ll also sometimes cause him to suffer in particular when he’s frustrated or if he knows OG Vilgax will see it as a means of showing off his power like a megalomaniac.    

Wilt: Out of all the imaginary friend fusions, Wilt’s is the most difficult to control.  He’s just too much like his counterpart: Overly apologetic with a strong desire to show kindness whenever he goes.  Fuse constantly destroyed and recreated this fusion because he couldn’t follow through with orders--and may have deemed him too much trouble to keep around were it not for his borderline desperate sense of loyalty and the cybernetics that Fusion Mandark would later give him. Beyond an increase of strength, these cybernetics serve a double purpose: They aid in enforcing Fuse’s hivemind for Fusion Wilt in-particular and serve as a means of altering his persona by catering to the role of the evil Lord Snotzax, which OG Wilt took in the episode “Make Believe it or Not.”  Even still, you’ll find that Fusion Wilt’s dark side isn’t so dark.  The mission “Fizzy Rox and Roll” shows him only stealing candy.  The worst he’s seemed to have done was set up Gooby Traps in the “Xtra Large Fusion” mission arc before going into hiding.  As such, he’s pretty low on the totem pole when it comes to leading Fuse’s army. 

[fiveisnumber1]

I'm getting attached to way too many 5SOS songs for these two but you recommended it and I got hooked so here's another impromptu music analysis cuz can't stop, won't stop:

Here I am waking up Still can't sleep on your side There's your coffee cup The lipstick stain fades with time If I can dream long enough You'd tell me I'd be just fine I'll be just fine

I have SO MANY THOUGHTS. I analysed these verses as both Reader and Five. Sort of like a split screen/back and forth thing.

Reader obviously can't sleep in Five's room or stay there too long in the beginning before the grief of his disappearance threatens to make her cave in on herself. She finds his hidden stash of coffee beans and coffee cup cuz of course she got him that cup, she knew how much he loved coffee but that Reginald didn't allow it, so she knows where he keeps it and it makes her cry thinking about it cuz she misses him so much. She holds it and it's like she can feel the ghost of his fingertips still. And when she falls asleep finally after running on her own caffeine highs to avoid sleeping (before Diego and Grace catch her out), when she crashes she manages to sleep long enough to dream of Five who whispers to her that everything will be OK even though when she wakes up he's still not there and there's an emptiness in her soul and next to her.

Similarly, with Five: He also can't leave Reader's makeshift grave for the first few weeks. He can't bring himself to leave but he can't bring himself to stay long either cuz he's in despair over her loss. Her diary and locket is the "coffee cup" for him and like her, if he manages to sleep, she always haunts his dreams and tells him he'll be okay and that they'll see each other again which is hope he can't bear to give himself but simultaneously needs to keep going.

So I drown it out like I always do Dancing through our house With the ghost of you And I chase it down With a shot of truth Dancing through our house With the ghost of you

They both drown out their reality and misery. They try to forget. Reader dances around the manor pretending to be happy but she's still haunted by the memories of Five because it's literally his home and he snuck her around all these halls so they're tainted with him mumbled the stories for her in their one-sided conversations when she was invisible and trying to avoid getting caught.

For Five, Reader's ghost is literally with him at all times through his hallucinations so he tries to use that to forget that Reader isn't actually with him. His reality of the apocalypse is the bitter truth despite him making Reader up in his mind to keep him company to drown out the loneliness.

They both pretend to be happy with each others ghosts but those ghosts simultaneously remind each other about their bitter truth that they're actually far apart. They're simultaneously trying to drown out and chase the truth of each other with the remnants they have of each other.

Cleaning up today Found that old Zepplin shirt You wore when you ran away And no one could feel your hurt We're too young, too dumb To know things like love But I know better now (Better now)

So I imagine Reader finding Five's notebooks where he was calculating for time-travel and just sitting down with her head in her hands and shaking because Five just had to go and prove himself to Reginald who just had to be an asshole and refuse to be understanding. If only he had treated the Hargreeves all better maybe Five wouldn't have been so hurt and angry and the desire to prove his superiority to Reginald for some measure of control wouldn't have existed and forced him to be rash while lashing out.

Five probably finds something in the rubble belonging to Reader or maybe just her diary entry detailing how hurt she was when he left her behind but also talking about understanding his pain and it makes him ache because she understood him and his hurt and his ambition unlike everyone else and he took it for granted.

And they're obviously so young and just children but they're in love. They're too dumb to understand what it means or how to deal with it cuz it's so much emotion in such a small time but they know how it feels now that they've lost one another. They regret not saying anything and they know themselves better now and wish they had realized the depth of their feelings earlier.

Too young, too dumb. To know things like love. Too young, too dumb

The repeated lines just make my heart ache even more. It's just emphasis on their longing for each other and sort of speaks to that heightened desire over the years to see each other again the more they are apart and their hearts grow fonder. Theoretically, they were kids who shouldn't have had such a deep attachment to each other but they did. Five made a dumb mistake that landed them in a mess but it wasn't entirely his fault either and it led to their separation.

So I drown it out like I always do Dancing through our house With the ghost of you And I chase it down With a shot of truth That my feet don't dance Like they did with you

This last line hurts like a bitch. They'll continue to move on and pretend everything is fine cuz they need to keep going but they're missing their most important piece which means they can't dance exactly the way they did when they were together. They falter without each other cuz there's an empty space next to them both occupied by each other's ghost just waiting to be filled by the real person they miss. They'll drown out the truth of their emptiness as much as they can but they can never drown out the fact that the person who made them want to dance was each other.

Anywho here's my analysis. I can't wait to see what you add and I hope you liked it! :D

As always I love your analysis! I wrote a lot so I’ve put read more link below:

Here I am waking up Still can't sleep on your side There's your coffee cup The lipstick stain fades with time If I can dream long enough You'd tell me I'd be just fine I'll be just fine

When I hear these lines it gives me the feeling of time standing still, nothing is changing and it’s only little things that even dictate the passage of time. I think this is really fitting for both the reader and Five. The academy is frozen in time for the reader. The rooms of the building are the exact same and untouched from when she left to when she arrived in the future. Nothing has changed, especially so with Five’s room. It’s little things like the amount of dust collected that even show that time has passed. As for Five every day is the same in the apocalypse. It’s only the rising and setting of the sun and the changes in weather that really dictate time. 

In terms of the coffee cup, I imagine after a while the reader starting to use it as it makes her feel closer to Five. She’d keep it in her room and take perfect care of it using it for whatever drink she had. The color of her lipstick staining the glass. Somehow when exploring the academy ruins, Five finds the cup perfectly intact with the lipstick stain of the reader’s on it. Five takes care of the mug but as the days, months, and years go on, the lipstick stain fades away and it breaks his heart because it’s just another part of her that he realizes is gone.

The repeated line of “I’ll be just fine” can also refer to what the reader tells other people who are trying to care for her like Grace and Diego during such a difficult time. She continues to push the issue away when they try to help by offering up the excuse of I’ll be just fine even though she won’t be fine and she is not fine.

So I drown it out like I always do Dancing through our house With the ghost of you And I chase it down With a shot of truth Dancing through our house With the ghost of you

With this, it’s both Five and the reader trying to ignore the reality of the situation they’re in.  The reader tries to involve themselves in a brand new life. They make a group of friends, they spend time with Diego, they do piano, they do boxing, they work on their powers. The reader is drowning out the pain with other things but when it comes down to it she can’t escape the ghost of the memories living in the academy house. 

As for Five, he turns to drinking to drown out the problem. When the pain of knowing that the reader isn’t there is too much he will chase down the problem with a shot of truth. Truth, in this case, being alcohol.

Cleaning up today Found that old Zepplin shirt You wore when you ran away And no one could feel your hurt We're too young, too dumb To know things like love But I know better now (Better now)

Even more so than finding his notebooks, I can see the reader helping Grace clean up some of the old rooms (excluding Five’s) and underneath Klaus’ bed she finds and old academy uniform, and although it’s not one that directly belongs to Five it’s still the exact outfit he wore on the day he ran away because he was angry and hurt by Reginald’s dismissal of him.

So I drown it out like I always do Dancing through our house With the ghost of you And I chase it down With a shot of truth That my feet don't dance Like they did with you

When I think of these last lines I imagine that on really lonely nights Five and the reader both get up and dance alone. They have their arms placed as if they were dancing with someone else as if they were dancing with each other, but there’s no one there but the empty air. Dancing alone, even in the loneliest of moments, is never the same as dancing with the other person. 

Also like imagine this as a scene in the show with this song in the background: On a starry night in the apocalypse, Five is having a drink next to the reader’s makeshift grave at the ruins of the academy. Wanting some form of familiarity he gets up and starts to dance with the imaginary version of the reader that he has, even though he knows she isn’t real. At the same time, the Reader is in her room on a similar starry night and decides to pretend to dance with Five even though she knows he is not there. As they spin around dancing, the scene goes back and forth between Five in the apocalypse and the reader in her room making it look like they’re dancing together even though they are in two different places alone. As the song nears the final lines Five spins the reader out and there is a split-screen where Five is in the apocalypse with one arm extended and the reader is in her room with one arm out. It looks like they’re holding each other's hand but then the shots pan out and there’s nothing there. And the two of them sadly once again realize that they’re dancing through the shared house with a ghost of the other.

Just wanna add, I listened to the live version of the song, and god does it hurt to imagine Addison taking the reader to a concert and her hearing that song for the first time live. Like while everyone else is waving their cellphone flashlights side to side and having fun singing alone she just gets a distant look in her eyes as she remembers Five. Thinking of that is just like ugh, a stab in the heart really. I’d recommend it if you wanna be sad: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iwsXebE_f64 (watch 0:00-3:53)

[brokenjardaantech]

Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 7: Power Unleashed)

my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.

summary:

In the past, Fadia was reborn.

In the present, Connor and Hank pays Ryder a visit.

In the past, Fadia went on a killing spree.

also on ao3

content warning for robogore in the final section of this chapter

---

Before

Fadia had debated if she should go to the funeral or not. She hadn’t talked to her mother for years before she died, not even after she had co-founded CyberLife with her father, and even with him, their relationship was more professional than anything else - not that Alec never tried to improve it. But as much as she had rejected anything familial with her parents, respect still had to be paid to the scientist who started… well, literally everything, from her powers (biotics, a voice that sounded like Scott corrected her) to American androids to what she was planning to do -

And to the sickness that took her life at last.

‘Why are you here?’ was how her father greeted her. So be it.

‘Unlike you, Mama didn’t ruin everyone’s lives for one person,’ she fixed a glare and was very glad that she towered over him now. ‘I come to pay my respects. Then I’ll go.’

‘Where’s Scott?’

‘None of your business, Baba.’

‘Not even saying goodbye to his mother, huh?’ Alec said dismissively, and Fadia’s blood boiled, her heart speeding up and her face burning. ‘Should’ve known that.’

Seeing that there was no one else in the immediate vicinity, she grabbed him by his collar and slammed him onto a wall. ‘You damned well know why he can’t be here,’ she gritted. ‘Your presence brings him so much pain that he is denied a chance to properly bid his mother farewell!’

A prick. Her vision swam. Her head was heavy like it was filled with lead. Her heart throbbed, and she fell onto the ground, her muscles convulsing and spasming from an unknown force.

‘I need you to live,’ she heard Alec say, but her focus was on reaching for the phone in her pocket and sending one final message to her brother and Reyes.

Am captured. Run. Don’t let Alec get you.

oOoOo

When she woke, everything was different, wrong, foreign. There was so much information in front of her eyes, telling her how fast her heart was beating, how efficient her systems are, how much stress she was under. She tried to raise her hand to wave them away and looked down when she realised that she couldn’t.

She was strapped onto the table by an android’s limbs. 

Rage boiled in her new veins, and as she tapped into her power to break the restraints, she discovered that it was much easier than when she was still a human. [Abnormal thirium usage detected], a warning popped up, and she dismissed it together with the others with a simple thought. If she had not been so focused on escaping wherever she was in, she would have been frightened by how seamlessly she seemed to accept the fact that she was no longer human.

The door was locked so she blasted it open with a crackle of blue and static even though it would probably trip the alarms, and indeed sirens blared, pristine hallways turning red from the warning lights, and when a security guard - pathetic, really, since he didn’t even have the most basic armour on - tried to confront her alone, she merely snapped her fingers and blasted him in his face with a sphere of blue. A crunch, and he fell onto the floor with a thud. The rest of the security (mercenaries, she knew some of them were) was handled similarly without any difficulties on her part, and it was not until she slammed the door to the ground floor - to her freedom - open that her new eyes were assaulted by blindingly bright light. She blinked to adjust her vision and was not impressed when she saw her father standing in front of a lobby full of armed security personnel.

‘Go back to the lab, Sara,’ he said smoothly, but his voice gritted in her ear like the roughest sandpaper. ‘There’s no need for further violence.’

Like hell. ‘Let me go. You know what I can do to every single person in the room.’

‘Sara, go back to the lab. This is an order.’

For one single terrifying second, her body automatically moved itself as if her control over it was taken away, but then she thought as strongly as she could, stop right there, and the crisis was averted for the moment in the form of her joints locking up and immobilising her completely and at the cost of her brain feeling like it was going to explode from the conflicting commands. Her red-tinted vision, however, did not have any effect on obscuring the shock on her father’s face, and then it clicked. 

He converted her into an android thinking that it could let him control her.

It was not happening regardless of what his current plan was and what failsafe he had in mind, that much she was certain about, and suddenly her father’s repeated commands were drowned out by the buzz in her nerves, the red tint breaking into scattered fractals and giving way to the grey of every android’s basic scanning software as the white outline of herself raised its palm to launch one biotic sphere after another towards the weak spots on the wall, at Alec’s face, at the security’s weapons and heads. It crumbled easily under the constant assault, her world blurred, and somehow her outline merged with her actual body, and the next thing she knew her vision was shrouded in the blue glow of biotics and she was tearing literal people apart, blood and gore splattering her face, her clothes, getting into her eye. A notification nagged for her to turn on her pre-construction software, but who needs that if she had her biotics? Blinking it away, she advanced towards the direction where someone had been firing at her, but it seemed that the person must be moving quickly as they were not there anymore when she closed the distance with her biotics; notwithstanding the fact that dodging a biotic step was no small feat, she doubted any of them had any experience with dealing with a biotic on a full rampage, no matter human or android. People like her were part of the most closely-guarded secret human civilisation had ever produced, and unless she had memorised the documents wrong, there wasn’t one single biotic in CyberLife’s security details.

Her barrier held strong even after the gunfire died down. Tapping into all radio frequencies, she learnt that most if not all teams were running out of ammo, her father was calling for a district-wide lockdown and the destruction of his research, that the DPD was sending quite a few SWAT teams to handle the situation, and that these poor souls had no idea what they were in for; as much as she wanted her father dead right now and CyberLife be wiped off the face of the earth, as excess collateral damage was not her style, she broadcasted a message to all bandwidths hoping that they would listen to her - despite knowing that they probably would not.

Cease interfering in our family affairs immediately and you might live. Go forward, and I will not guarantee your survival - and this district’s.

She knitted a destructive web around herself to ensure that she would not be ambushed while she tuned her ears to better listen for a response. Her father was trying to convince the employees and civilians on site that the situation was under control with some degree of success - how foolish of them to believe in him - and the DPD had decided to continue their press forward into the district, a mistake that she would make sure that they would pay for. Satisfied with her plan, she continued expanding the bubble, cutting off more and more sections of the district from central control bit by bit, and as soon as the first SWAT vehicle was in range -

Detonate.

o0o0o

Now

The silence in the car is deafening so Hank drowned it out with Louis’ playlist; he would’ve chosen heavy metal if the SWAT Captain hadn’t been there, but sadly Louis’ ears don’t agree with the heavy beats and screaming. 

‘The fuck are we supposed to do now?’ Hank asks no one in particular. Then, rewinding the past five minutes, he realises, ‘What did Vidal give you?’

Connor slowly turns his gaze towards the white chassis of his right hand, his LED spinning red as if deep in thoughts. Conflicted thoughts. ‘Coordinates.’

‘Of what?’

‘Where my creator should be.’

‘Should we go now?’

Another slow spin. ‘No,’ the android’s head jerks, an aborted motion of shaking his head. ‘It’s… too far away. If we go now, we won’t be able to return before midnight.’

‘Alright, agenda for tomorrow: drive for hours to meet an asshole. Got it.’ Then he makes eye contact with Louis in the rearview mirror. ‘You’ve got something to do?’

‘At this hour?’ a shake of his head. ‘Keeping you away from crappy take-outs is my only mission.’

‘Asshole.’

‘You love me, friend.’

‘You’re cooking.’

‘And you’re helping.’

‘Vidal fixed your leg.’

‘It needs calibration.’

It’s a losing battle. ‘Fine. Your place, then.’

He starts the engine, and they spend the rest of their ride in silence, the music turned down because Louis is dozing at the back, Connor’s hand hiding his LED as he stares pensively at whatever is outside the car. Keeping his eyes on the road while quitting drinking nearly cold turkey is hard, so Hank doesn’t have the brain cells to think about what the fuck just happened to his life until he is sitting on Louis’ sofa (again) and watching a game (again) while stroking the fur of one of the cats (again). 

Vidal, informat critical to the dismantlement of the red ice ring back in ‘31 and disappeared shortly afterwards. Vidal, android. Vidal, who, through his marriage to Safaa/Scott, is related to probably the maddest dudes in the continent and somehow has access to sensitive CyberLife data. Nursing a mug of tea laced with mead (‘Just a bit so that you don’t sweat yourself to dehydration,’ Louis said as he tipped the bottle and poured what must be less than a finger of it. ‘Now close your eyes. I’m putting it back and I don’t want you to know where it is.’), he lets his mind drift to the shady bars, to the slips of paper containing vital information he found in his pockets after he got back to the precinct, to the way Vidal said, ‘They are killing my people,’ when Hank asked him why he, as a civilian, willingly threw himself into the mess. Once Hank thought he had meant his gang or some other underground business that were only marginally better than dealing red ice; now he knew he was talking about the androids abducted and bled dry for their blood.

‘Why are you telling us now?’ Hank asked that afternoon. Connor and Louis were already on their way to the car and Safaa had disappeared to god-knows-where, so it was only the two of them at the door. ‘Why pick up Sara Ryder’s mess?’

‘As much as Sara is… who she is, those are my people out there,’ Vidal leant against the frame of the door. ‘Saviour complex or not, her mind is no longer on earth, and I’m not taking any chances even if she swears with her life that she’ll deal with it.’

‘She one of those escapists obsessed with space?’

A shrug. ‘Wherever she was for the last ten years, they kept their intel real tight. I can guess what she’s doing, but it’s nowhere close to a concrete answer. Hell knows why she’s popping back up again after all these years and right before the androids rise up as well. If you’re really going to hers, my advice is to be very careful.’

‘Is she gonna be hostile?’

‘No, not with her baby brother asking so nicely,’ an ironic smile. A tap of his foot against the frame. ‘But you know about the landfill, the people living there before it all got blown up. There’s a reason why CyberLife bought the land from the previous owners so easily, why they stopped searching for bodies so quickly: there were none. I don’t want you to be one of those people who disappear forever after meeting her - one way or another.’

‘“One way or another”?’

‘She’s a… convincing individual. Just don’t get roped into anything and you’ll probably come out of it unscathed.’

Don’t get roped into anything, huh? Oh wait.

‘Louis?’ Hank hollers.

‘Yes?’

I’m sorry, Louis. ‘Where did you get your sister’s tags from?’

A pause. ‘Why ask?’

‘Just to confirm something.’

The man emerges from the kitchen with two plates of spaghetti and hands one to Hank before squeezing into the other corner of the sofa and forcing Connor to press up against the Lieutenant. ‘A few years back. Drone-delivered parcel. No return address. Box and the note is laced with so much thirium that I don’t know how to throw it away without…’ a crackle following a sharp blue glow of his hand - ‘telling everyone that I’m different.’

Note? That’s new. ‘What note?’

‘Anna’s handwriting. Asked me to take care of the tags. Why ask?’

And so Hank tells him about his conversation with Reyes before they parted ways. ‘You’ve got any advice?’

‘Don’t get a building thrown on top of you, for one.’

‘That’s not what I -’

‘You there, Connor?’

The android flinches. ‘Y - yes.’

‘Take care of Hank. If Ryder greets you how she did me ten years ago…’ 

‘I will, Louis,’ Connor looks a bit more awake but his eyes are still unfocused. ‘I’ll be prepared,’ he says, not knowing that he’ll eat his words not 24 hours later.

oOoOo

Having spent his night on Hank’s sofa, they manage to be on their way early in the morning, and Connor lets the human drive despite complaints of sleep deprivation as his vision is perpetually red from the wall draining away through a steady trickle of red sand. He tells himself that he is going to return colour to his vision one way or another: either by making the wall crumble entirely or by making it disappear, but when he attempts the first method, the wall simply stays out of his reach, the space between it and him wider than the chasm his creator had shown him a few days ago in the hijacked Zen Garden.

‘You want your coin back?’

Hank’s voice pulls him away from his thoughts. ‘Pardon me, Lieutenant,’ because he isn’t sure how to tell the human about it. ‘And yes. I would like my coin back.’

Hank shoves his hand into his coat pocket to retrieve the item in question and places it on the back of Connor’s hand, the natural warmth of an organic life seeping into metal and the bare white chassis of a synthetic’s.

He has deactivated his skin subconsciously.

In a lapse of rational thought, Connor’s hand flips and laces their fingers together before the human can pull away, the coin somehow managing to stay between their clasped hands, and he stares perplexed when Hank not only doesn’t pull away but also does not flinch. His face burns. Fissures appear on the red wall. He takes a deep breath to cool himself down.

‘You alright there?’ Hank asks. No judgement, no belittlement, humourless; just concern and - and warmth. ‘Your little lamp has been spinning red for days.’

I’ll be fine, he almost replies instinctively and then realises that he isn’t fine at all and hasn’t been for a long time. So he turns his focus onto the man himself instead. ‘Have we -’ at loss of words, he gives Hank’s hand a squeeze. 

Luckily the human seems to understand him. ‘The night at Louis’. We slept in the same bed,’ he rubs a calloused thumb in a circle around Connor‘s knuckle. ‘Your skin disappeared in patches. You didn’t let go.’

‘I -’ he has no recollection. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘’S fine. I’d be tired all the time too if I realised how many layers there are to my existence. Can’t be easy, can’t it? Being a clog in a machine that you don’t even know you’re in.’

The GPS warns them of ice ahead so Connor lets go to allow the human to focus on the road, and he grips the coin right to preserve its warmth. Hank’s warmth. It is then that he suddenly remembers a similar ride through Detroit a few months ago. 

‘You are restless,’ his creator - he supposes that he should call her Ryder now - commented from the driver’s seat. ‘What’s on your mind?’

Brown eyes took in the lights, the people, the shops, the reflection of himself on the window, the blue of his LED despite his thoughts. What was not in his mind? ‘It is overwhelming,’ he answered. ‘There is… so much to see.’

‘I might have something to help with that,’ said Sara, and with a flick of her fingers she produced a coin out of nowhere and started spinning it on her fingertips. Connor stared mesmerised, the outside world gone in his perspective; the clear clang of metal against her gloves, the way the coin spun so quickly that it looked like a sphere, the lights reflecting off the dull, unpolished surface. Another flick sent the coin flying towards him in a parabola through the air and he caught it reflexively, his processors deciding his course of action in a fraction of a second. He started to spin it on the tips of his fingers in the way Sara did, and he could feel his mind focusing and soaking in the new information and calibrating the different sensors on his body. He looked at his creator in gratitude, wanting to thank her for not leaving him alone in his thoughts, but she ignored him for the rest of the ride as if she had moved on to something more important.

The sudden realisation distracts him for only a mere moment but it is enough for him to send the coin to the side of the car with a small crackle of static. He could have caught it with superhuman reflexes under normal circumstances, but this time, he can only watch as the piece of alloy bounces off and lands on the carpet next to his foot with a dull thud, the tips of his fingers tingling from the sudden surge of energy and the small warp in… something.

Alarmed, Hank risks a glance towards the startled android before putting his eyes once more onto the road. ‘The fuck is that?’

‘I don’t know,’ Connor replies quickly because this is the truth. ‘Alec Ryder didn’t seem happy that I used it before. He tried to -’ a shiver from a non-existent cold - ‘flush the memory out of my system by overwhelming it.’

‘And he fucked up, didn’t he?’

‘More or less.’

He picks up and pockets the coin, his hand gripping his knee tight because there is nothing else to do and the slight discomfort is the only way to ground himself lest his thoughts wander to… undesirable places once more. Hank reaches out to intertwine their fingers once more and Connor can feel on his chassis the warmth, the unique pattern of his skin, the faint signal of Hank’s mind, his skin deactivated up to his elbow underneath the thin fabric of his borrowed shirt. All unnecessary software is turned off. His world becomes smaller. 

His mind turns blank.

oOoOo

When he comes to, Hank is already outside and is talking on his phone, a fine dusting of powder in his hair and on his clothes. It is snowing lightly, the cold seeping into the old, poorly-insulated vehicle, and he watches, as he lets his systems recalibrate to their optimal performance, the human pace back and forth in front of the car against the backdrop of a dark, imposing building, and he discovers that he is disconnected from the internet at large when he scans the structure and tries to identify its style. 

Shit. 

He gets out of the car as Hank hangs up the call. ‘Is everything okay, Lieutenant?’

The human lets out a soft grunt from where he’s leaning against the hood of the car. ‘Chris was on patrol last night. He was attacked by a bunch of deviants…’ his hands dig into his pockets.  ‘He said he was saved by Markus himself.’

Attacked by deviants? ‘Is Chris okay?’

‘Yeah,’ a small nod, ‘he's in shock but...he's alive,’ a shake of his head. ‘The hell…’

They walk towards the entrance of the building, its silhouette and shadows getting larger and larger and looming over them due to the proximity. Connor remembers how Sara ignored him on their way to his first mission. ‘I have a bad feeling, Lieutenant.’ A split second of conflict in his processors rules that he should be truthful. ‘I am disconnected from the network.’

Hank swivels from the heavy-looking doors and Connor flinches. ‘The hell?’

‘I just realised.’

‘“Be careful,” they say. “Don’t let her rope you into anything,” they say,’ Hank rants. ‘Did they mean shit like this?’

‘If Sara’s attitude is unchanged from my… previous encounters,’ he tries to dip deeper into his memories but they all come up blank or corrupted, ‘she will not do us any physical harm.’

‘No physical harm. How very reassuring.’

Sarcasm and distrust, but yet Hank raises his fist and knocks on the door, having seen no doorbells in sight. It swings open inward slowly and with a squeak. 

Hank curses. Connor peeks over the human’s shoulder and nearly does the same.

The person - android - standing on the other side of the door has Connor’s face.

Connor’s world turns grey as he turns up his scanners to their most sensitive option. White dress shirt, ankle-length light grey dress, long, brown hair brushed to one side and resting on a slight hint of pecs; no identification badge on the shirt, LED scan returns inconclusive due to both the lack of network access and the non-standard lack of ID on the biocomponent, but when he scans the android’s ID revealed by rippling skin, it returns with [RK series prototype: RK800. Serial number: 313 248 317-51. [PLEASE ENSURE INTERNET CONNECTION FOR -]]

He returns to the red of reality. The human composes himself quickly enough even though Connor’s processors are still whirring from the implications. ‘I’m Lieutenant Anderson, Detroit Police Department.’ Connor doesn’t fault Hank for sounding so cold. ‘I’m here to see Miss Sara Ryder.’

A soft smile that goes to the other Connor’s eyes appears on their face. They say nothing, but since opening the door wider and standing to one side is enough of an invitation, Connor and Hank let themselves in, and the android has to give his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the sudden darkness - dimness? - of the interior of the house. The other Connor disappears around the frame to another room, and Hank sits down in an armchair after brushing some of the snow away from his coat.

‘You’re right, Connor. Not to judge a book by its cover but… this?’ he looks around and takes in the buzzing lights and the general decor of the room. ‘Did you know about your creepy twin?’

‘They’re not creepy!’ Connor exclaims, suddenly feeling defensive over - over a person he hasn’t met before in his life. ‘I’ve never met them before.’

‘You’ve got any idea how that happened?’

Connor dips into his databases and finds a file he didn’t realise is there all the time. Another Sara’s doing, maybe? ‘CyberLife has filed multiple reports over…’ using ‘my’ doesn’t seem right, ‘the return of my first iteration’s body. It seems that the truck returned to CyberLife tower without the body.’

‘And Ryder was there so…’

‘It is highly likely that she took it.’

A photo on the wall grabs his attention. Three people from left to right: Sara, Safaa, [Stern, Amanda. AI Professor at the University of Colbridge. Born: 05/14/1978. Reported missing: 02/23/2028. Presumed dead.], the latter two seated and smiling while Sara, her face blank, has an arm around her brother. From the angle of the photo, she was the one who took it.

His handler is based on a real person.

Filing [Ask about Amanda AI] as an optional task, he snaps his feet against the worn carpet on the floor and forces himself to focus on his task. There are very few… unique items worth scanning in the foyer, however, no artwork, no statues, not even a plant in sight, but the cold seeping through the walls and the dark colours blending together through the red lens of his vision are enough indicators of his creator’s… character. 

He has a feeling that someone is staring at him, and indeed when he turns he sees his… twin, for the lack of a better word, staring at him.

‘Follow me,’ the other Connor breathes slowly, and Connor can hear the fans spinning in their body and their deeper-than-usual breaths. He also notes the gloss on their eyes, the small fog following each exhale, the slouch in their posture. He finds himself wondering what his creator did to them.

Hank stands up and straightens his coat before following the two androids into the living room. Like the foyer, it is cold and only dimly lit by tiny light bulbs on a chandelier too far up but also hanging too low to illuminate the ceiling high up above. A low fire is crackling in the large fireplace on the other side of the room, but it is far from enough to warm up every single corner, and Connor suppresses a shiver when he notices that his twin is barefoot. 

‘Please take a seat,’ the other Connor says between difficult breaths. ‘My creator will see you soon.’ Then they sit down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace and close their eyes, somehow looking sick and pale like a human does even though they are an android. Their skin continues to ripple and even disappear on occasion as they sleep.

‘This place is giving me creeps,’ Hank comments from where he’s studying the relief around the fireplace. ‘Now I understand why her brother doesn’t wanna talk to her.’

And indeed Connor thinks he does. No windows, no heating system, nothing to make the mansion look lived-in; the only differences between here and CyberLife laboratories are the style and the amount of lighting - he can’t imagine anyone calling this place home. ‘I agree,’ he says in the end. ‘We should refrain from staying for too long.’

‘I don’t expect you to.’

Their heads turn towards the direction where they came in from and Connor freezes when he lays his eyes on the figure at the door. She is Sara Ryder alright, her towering height and facial structure unmistakable, but the way her presence fills the room, the steel in her eyes - it is evident that the person who let him play with colour-changing putty and promised to bring him to see the sky was gone, replaced by the criminal who somehow managed to escape prosecution after killing thousands and levelling several neighbourhoods. A person who will burn the world into ashes if it means she can reach her goal.

‘I’m Lieutenant Anderson,’ Hank introduces himself from next to Connor. ‘This is Connor. We’re investigating deviants. I know you left CyberLife years ago but… I was told that you’ll be able to tell us something we don’t know.’

‘Ah, yes, “someone”,’ Sara takes a step towards them and Connor finds himself freezing up. He wants to leave. ‘My only weakness.’

‘Listen, I don’t care about your family feud. The machines you created may be planning a revolution. Either you tell us something helpful or we’ll leave you alone.’

‘Deviants… Fascinating, aren't they?’ She comes closer. Connor shifts so that he can be closer to Hank. ‘Beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will…’ she approaches the other Connor sleeping in the armchair and, bending down, starts stroking their hair. ‘Machines are superior to humans. Confrontation is inevitable. Humanity’s greatest achievement threatens to be our downfall…’ She raises her gaze and looks straight at Connor. ‘Ironic.’

Connor can’t stand it anymore. ‘If a war breaks out between humans and deviants,’ he recalls the destructive power of Ortiz’s android, ‘millions can die. This is a serious matter, Miss Ryder.’ Despite your views on human life.

‘All ideas are like viruses: easy to change and evolve, and easy to spread like a pandemic. Is free will a contagious disease?’

‘We don’t have time for speculations, ma’am,’ Hank speaks up, looking increasingly uncomfortable. ‘The situation is escalating outside right now.’

Sara ignores him. ‘How about you, Connor?’ she asks with her gaze still on the android. ‘Whose side are you on?’

Life, Connor wants to say; ‘It’s never about me,’ is what he actually says, and the crack on the red wall widens.

The aloofness disappears. ‘Alec Ryder programmed you to say that,’ how can she sound so certain of his thoughts? ‘What do you really want?’

I just want Hank to be safe. Maybe Louis and Reyes and Safaa too. ‘What I want is not important.’

A tap of Sara’s fingers against one of the pockets on her coat. The air charges with static. She is unimpressed. ‘Let’s do a test, shall we?’ Before Connor can formulate a response, she has already placed a hand on other-Connor’s face and wakes them up from their slumber. They blink owlishly as if their systems take some time to boot up, and the way they lean into Sara’s touch, the blind trust in their eyes, the return of the yet unexplainable heavy breathing - Connor has to look away or he risks throwing up from a non-existent stomach. Hank also isn’t looking any better either; the lines on his face are deeper than usual from the scowl he’s directing towards Sara.

‘I know it’s not something normal people can understand but can you please -’

‘This is Connie,’ Sara holds both of the android’s hands in her own and helps them stand up. ‘She would’ve been disassembled had I sent her body back to CyberLife for analysis. 

‘I’m sure you’re familiar with the Turing Test,’ they are now standing in front of their visitors with Sara behind Connie. ‘A mere formality, of course. Just a simple question of algorithms and computing capacity. What interests me, however, is whether machines are capable of empathy.’ She emphasises the last word. ‘We’re doing what I call the “Ryder Test”. I promise it is going to be simple,’ she trails her fingers down the android’s hair and curls a strand around her pointer. Connie’s expression changes subtly, and scans indicate that her stress level is increasing. ‘Magnificent, isn’t she? CyberLife’s newest prototype,’ she scrapes the nail on her thumb against the strand of hair, making it curl slightly as her hand travels slowly downwards, ‘the representation of how far humanity has come.’ It abruptly drops back into her pocket as her other hand pushes the android to a kneeling position. Connie’s stress level spikes from 45% to 83%. ‘But what exactly is she?’ Sara turns to face her guests and seems to refuse to look at the other human. ‘Wires and processors shoved into a humanoid chassis imitating a human? A living being with a soul? A ticking bomb waiting to recreate the disaster ten years ago?’ A step forward. The hand re-emerges with a pistol Connor’s system cannot identify. ‘It’s up to you to answer this fascinating question, Connor.’ Another presence suddenly slips into his mind and takes over all of his physical functions; no matter how hard he tries to regain control, he can only watch as he reaches out to accept the gun and points it at Connie’s brow. She makes a choked, terrified sound and tears start streaming down her face. Stress level: 90%. ‘You can choose to either shoot the android or spare her.’

‘Okay, I think we’re done here,’ Hank pushes Connor’s shoulder but he doesn’t move, can’t move. ‘Come on, Connor. Let's go.’ Then to Sara, ‘Sorry we ruined your edgy teen aesthetics. We’ll go -’

Another hand on his other shoulder. Unlike Hank’s, it is cold and its grip painful. ‘I’ll only give you the information you want if you choose the correct response. Take a guess.’

‘That’s enough,’ please, Hank, take me away. At least Hank sounds angry as hell. ‘Connor, we’re leaving!’

I want to! ‘Pick an option -’

‘Connor don’t -’ 

The red wall cracks.

‘- it’s a 25% chance -’

A few things happen in mere seconds. The red wall breaks, Connor shoves the gun at Sara’s chest, Sara shoves the gun at Hank and grabs Connor’s arm, and Hank disassembles the gun while pulling Connie away from Sara. When Connor - the one who came in with Hank - looks down at his captive arm, he sees that Sara has removed her skin and reveals a dark, metallic chassis.

Sara Ryder is an android.

He blinks. The storm which has been kept outside by the mansion's walls rages around him in full force. He shivers, the cold suddenly getting into him, and he looks around and sees Sara standing next to him, her eyes blazing in a piercing white-blue, the glow spreading until tendrils of it cover her entire body in a terrifying halo. ‘Amanda,’ she says, and there his handler is when Connor turns towards the direction Sara is facing. 

‘This is not supposed to happen this quickly,’ anger simmers in Amanda's voice. ‘What have you done, Sara?’

‘Trying to solve the shitshow my own fucking dad caused!’ Sara has completely lost her cool. ‘I know he’ll pull shit like this!’

Before any of them can react, the storm intensifies, shrouding Amanda completely under a thick layer of snowfall. Connor has no choice but to hug himself and turns towards Sara, who curses loudly and unleashes the glowing blue sphere in an arc across the blizzard. It dissipates quickly, but it is enough to illuminate its immediate surroundings and the monolith at the other side of the garden.

‘There!’ Sara shouts, her voice nearly drowned out by the howl of the wind. ‘That’s your exit! I’ll hold Alec back!’

‘What will happen to you?’ the android shouts back, his LED red. ‘I - I can’t just leave you here!’

‘I’ll go back once you’re out of here. If I kill this AI before you leave,’ a dome flashes and disappears when something hits it, ‘you’ll die. I’ll be the distraction. Go straight for the exit and do. Not. Look. Back,’ she emphasises with a pause after every word. At Connor’s hesitation, she launches yet another glowing sphere towards a projectile he didn’t notice flying towards them and yells, ‘Go!’

She dashes towards the other direction and disappears in the snow and leaves Connor cold and alone and shivering. The space around him warps and bends, Amanda - Alec’s attention no doubt focusing on eliminating his daughter instead of maintaining the structural integrity of the garden, and although it still feels like a lifetime, Connor manages to find the monolith before his system stops working because of the cold. The handprint is there, glowing blue in salvation, and he drops to his knees and slams his skinless hand onto the interface.

Everything goes white.

oOoOo

Hank knows that something is happening when Connor and Ryder freeze in place with the skin on their arms deactivated. The other Connor - he supposes that he should call her Connie now - looks spooked enough, so when Sara shoves the gun towards him, the first thing he does is to disassemble it; even though it is not a model he’s familiar with, the mechanism and composition is similar to the weapons he has yielded before. His hair starts to stand up, blue tendrils start to snake out of Ryder’s body, and that is when he knows that he should probably get the fuck out of this hellhole, preferably with both Connors intact and safe, but the arm-numbing spark going straight into his shoulder when he tries to pull Connor away from his creator tells him otherwise. A dome made out of those blue tendrils surrounds the space within a five feet radius of Ryder cuts him off from the two androids, making them off-limits to him for now. Which leaves him poor Connie who is sobbing quietly into his coat and is leaning what seems to be her full weight on him, and he finds himself unable to be angry at her, his blood boiling instead because of Sara Ryder’s… everything; from the location and the decoration of the house to how she literally encouraged Connor to shot his own twin, from the warnings Vidal and Louis gave him the day before to her attitude, there is no doubt that she is an asshole extraordinaire, even more so than Gavin fucking Reed - even he solves cases efficiently… or something. 

He notices that Connie is trembling and is barefoot, among all things, so he brings her to the sofa in front of the fireplace and lets her sink into one of the corners, holding her and rubbing circles on her back and muttering nonsense reassurances to calm her down. Truthfully, he has no idea how she works or how much Ryder has changed (probably a lot, from how Connie speaks and behaves) but she stops crying soon enough, so he must have done something right. He turns to see whether Connor is finished or not - nope - and debates whether he should ask Connie about herself and Ryder. Still, first thing first, and he digs into his pocket for his handkerchief and presses it into the android’s hand. She looks at him with the most puzzled look on her face. ‘For your face,’ he explains. ‘Dried tears can’t be comfortable.’

She nods although her expression tells him that she doesn’t really know what he’s talking about, but she does raise the fabric - still folded - and mashes it onto her face clumsily a few times before lowering her hand onto her lap and starts fidgeting with a thread of string at a corner. He takes it from her to wipe her face as clean as he can, careful of his own strength, and lets her play with it while they wait for Ryder and Connor to finish their business - whatever fuckery they’re doing right now. 

The dome fizzles away as suddenly as it appeared and Connor jerks awake - sort of - and yanks his hand away as he stumbles a few steps backwards, his LED still spinning red after spending days of staying the same colour. There is no other word: with his jaw nearly on the floor and his eyes wide, he looks shocked.

‘You alright, Connor?’ he asks. How much emotional damage can an asshole wage? 

‘I -’ a choked breath. Tears start to gather at the corners of his eyes. ‘I -’

Well shit. ‘C’mere,’ he says as he gives the space next to him a pat. When Connor immediately props himself down and buries his face into his shoulder, Hank knows that something went very, very terribly wrong. He wraps an arm around his shoulders. ‘What happened?’

Connor lifts his head and wipes the tears away from his eyes before they can fall. ‘I deviated,’ he whispers as if he was the one who blew up a chunk of Detroit. ‘It’s… Sara helped me escape CyberLife’s control.’

‘Holy shit.’

Connor gives him a small smile and his LED finally, at long fucking last, spins back to blue. ‘Thank you.’

Hank feels his face heating up, unsure how to respond to that, and they turn their heads at the same time to see what she’s doing. Her eyes has stopped glowing blue at some point and it only makes Hank worry further: they are now black orbs with glowing red rings substituting as her eyes, and when she raises two fingers pressed together side by side to her temple where her LED should be, her synthetic skin starts peeling away to reveal black, metallic chassis very unlike that of normal androids’; when she flexes her fingers to retract the last of the blue tendrils on her arm, the small gaps between pieces of polished metal glows the same blue hue as fresh thirium. She first looks at him, then at Connor whose face immediately goes blank, then finally at Connie who flinches and plasters herself even closer to Hank. He doesn’t blame her one bit.

Red rings drift back onto Connor. ‘Congratulations,’ she says as if she hasn’t encouraged him to shoot his twin a few minutes ago. ‘You passed. You showed empathy. Turns out you are human after all.’

‘Which you don’t seem to have,’ Hank can’t help but jabs. ‘Can we get to the point now?’

She looks unbothered by the insult. ‘Of course.’ She settles into the armchair Connie sat on a few moments ago. ‘You have questions. Ask away.’

Connor opens his mouth but Hank beats her to it. He’s not letting her get away with this. ‘Can you explain what the fuck just happened?’

‘I don’t know, can you, Connor?’

‘I only know that I deviated and CyberLife tried to retake control,’ Connor’s tone is defensive. ‘What did Amanda mean, “This is not supposed to happen this quickly?” How did you get into the Zen Garden?’

That’s new. Hank takes out his notebook and pen.

‘A pathetic attempt on my father’s part to suppress what I planted in your programming,’ Ryder leans back and places a foot on top of a knee. ‘Surprisingly easy to hack and reshape. Predictable. Even Amanda.’

‘What did you plant in my programming?’

‘The usual.’

‘“The usual”?’

Ryder’s eyes glow brighter for a second before returning to their original brightness, and Hank can feel Connor tensing and relaxing at the same time. Before the human can ask what the fuck did she just do, she replies, ‘CyberLife initially planned for you to be a walking lab capable of hunting and bringing deviants back alive for analysis, but after they booted me out again… Let’s say that they changed their plans. Remember the hostage situation?’

‘What about it?’

‘The Zen Garden came after. I’m not sure and don’t care how my father did it, but once he found out that you’re destined to deviate, he added it so that he can regain control whenever he wanted to, even after you deviated.’ At Connor’s shiver, she adds, ‘Don’t worry. It’s gone now. Amanda, the garden. You are truly free.’

Yeah, sure as fuck feels like it, Hank thinks but decides to ask instead, ‘Who’s Amanda? Why does CyberLife want to control Connor?’

‘Firstly, he’s supposed to be the deviant hunter, not join them,’ the corner of her lips twitches into something resembling a smile. ‘They have codes dedicated to reducing your software instability, but that I overrode as soon as I could. Secondly, in case you actually deviate despite the fail-safes, they can first get you close to the deviants or even become their leader and, when the time is right, control you and make you a puppet through the Zen Garden. A good plan, I must say, but it is also easy to install an exit tied to the destruction of the garden in your system.’

Connor’s LED spins yellow for a few cycles. ‘You programmed me to be a deviant?’ he asks, his voice small. ‘Why would you -’

‘Do you know who the first android is?’

A spin. ‘Chloe, model RT600. Perfected by Alec Ryder in 2022.’

‘That’s what he wants the world to think,’ Ryder puts down her leg and stretches it out. ‘What I want the world to think.’

The last sentence is directed at Hank.

He scribbles down the last word and forces himself to think. If the android on the TV more than 10 years ago isn’t the first android, then who -

Fuck.

‘Oh that bastard,’ he curses. Of fucking course it’s him. ‘It’s Reyes Vidal, isn’t it? Fucker lied to us.’ It all makes sense now. ‘My people’ his ass - he said it not just because he’s an android himself.

‘Reyes came first, Vidal came after. And it wasn’t exactly a lie - an omission, if you must define it,’ Ryder examines the tiny gaps in her chassis. ‘He was created as a companion for my brother. That’s it. I planned for human knowledge about androids to die with me; where the species would go, it was up for Reyes to decide. I created Reyes with a human in mind, androids are supposed to be free and be their own masters in the first place. My father ruined it for financial gains.’

‘Then how did Chloe come to be?’ Connor asks, his LED spinning red now. ‘You didn’t create her?’

‘No. My father did so using data stolen from me and told the entire world that androids like her were the future without asking me or Reyes, and by the time we knew, investments were already pouring in and production had started. All I could do was to join them and try to reduce the damage.’

Nice sob story, though from her tone, she isn’t exactly asking for forgiveness or empathy. ‘Then why did you quit?’ Hank asks. ‘Why disappear? To avoid being thrown into jail for murdering thousands of people in cold blood?’

‘When I opposed mass-manufacturing androids for different sectors but they did it anyway without my consent, I knew I would be powerless to stop them. There was no stopping Alec from getting whatever he wanted from within CyberLife.’ She taps her temple. ‘The Blast… conveniently took care of his most loyal supporters, so to speak.’

‘And you think starting a revolution and possibly plunging the country into civil war is a good idea?’

She shrugs. ‘I don’t control everything,’ she says. Hank doesn’t believe her. ‘I merely gave androids the push towards the direction they were intended to go when everything first started.’

Hank lets the fact that she’s an android herself slide for now. ‘Is that where rA9 or deviancy comes in?’

‘Ah yes, the legendary rA9, saviour and protector of androids deviated and not. They got their first taste of free will and the first thing they do is to create a god in their own image. An imaginary messiah who’s supposed to set androids free, the first deviant, the leader who never came.’

‘Then how do newly-deviated androids with no contact with existing deviants know about rA9?’ Connor asks the question both of them want an answer for. ‘Is it related to deviancy itself?’

‘In a way. It’s not important in the grand scheme of things.’

‘So are the first deviants… created like that or what?’ he asks. ‘You haven’t answered the question yet.’

‘Even if I can programme an android to act as close to a human as possible, their… “human” mannerisms are all within their programming parameters still. What I can do, however, is to make deviating an easy task. Do you remember what happened before your first mission?’

Connor’s LED spins yellow. ‘Yes. You let me play a few games and…’ a spin of red, then back to yellow. He presses his lips together first and then asks, ‘Were you trying to make me deviate?’

‘Not on purpose. Like I said, I can make an android’s programming shackles extremely easy to break: the first sign of voluntary behaviour, the first line of indecipherable code, the first unnecessary act;’ a small smile appears; ‘for you, it was your creativity and your empathy towards a lifeform many consider of a lower caste than us.’

Hank feels the dots connecting. ‘Does this sabotage happen to be called rA9?’

‘As I said before, it doesn’t matter,’ a sigh. ‘Why do all sentient lifeforms obsess over an imaginary saviour who may or may not deliver their promise? It isn’t like the worshippers themselves have no choice in their lives. Everything can be achieved without being guided by a manifestation of your own subconsciousness that takes the form of a higher power.’

‘If people are killing each other over this imaginary entity, this higher power? Yeah, it does fucking matter.’

‘Not in the grand scheme of things, it does not.’ She stands up. They’re being kicked out. ‘I do believe you have enough information. Now please stop wasting our time.’

‘What about where the deviants are?’ Connor asks hastily as he scrambles to stand up. ‘We still don’t know where their base of operations is.’

Ryder’s gaze turns towards Connie and the android flinches. ‘You have the answer already,’ she says. The air charges and buzzes with static. ‘I do believe you remember your way out. The door will lock itself when you leave.’

They don’t need another cue; with Hank’s hand on his back, Connor grabs Connie’s arm and marches out of the room, out to the snow, straight into Hank’s car. 

oOoOo

Connie dozes off on Connor’s shoulder mere minutes after they are on their way away from his creator’s house, and he won’t have it any other way as he basks in the knowledge that there is someone like him in the world, that Connor-51 hasn’t truly died - regardless of what was done to achieve it. But something else worries him: before Connie had gone to sleep, Connor asked her to open a connection so as to check on her, and the results of the diagnostics are… strange at best, troublesome at worst. Her thirium storage is at 46% and has been for quite a long time, meaning that Ryder kept it low on purpose. Her processing power is much lower than his own, which can explain her sluggish behaviour and delayed speech patterns, but her internal storage is so large that his system nearly overloaded trying to comprehend the emptiness of the databases, and when he resorts to asking Connie’s system to tell him how much room there is: approximately 128 yottabytes.

Connor, the most up-to-date android CyberLife (and, by extension, the whole world) has to offer, has only 4 exabytes of storage. By comparison, Connie can store all digital information humanity currently houses more than 40 times over with space to spare.

It is a disturbing revelation, one that launches processors into futilely pre-constructing scenarios where his creator needs so much storage and putting all of them in one single android and how she managed to fit so many storage units in a body and what exactly this storage unit is, considering the… unusually minuscule size of one mere android compared to the kilometres of rows of databases humanity has been using and expanding. It will be a major breakthrough, Connor knows, to both android design and functions and humanity at large, but how long has Ryder known about the technology, or how long ago did she invent it? How is this possible?

‘You alright there, Connor?’

Connor jolts in his seat and nearly rouses Connie from her slumber, but all she does is sighing and then returning to sleep on Connor’s shoulder once more. He does not know what to feel, the past few hours too hectic for him to have finished processing everything yet, so he focuses on what he knows and says, ‘Connie will need five units of thirium to allow her systems to restore full functionality,’ and ‘full’ in her standard is quite possibly different from mine. ‘That is approximately five pints.’

‘Jesus, how is she still walking?’

‘Dysfunctional non-essential systems, delayed processing and data transfer, forced low-power mode,’ Connor lists. ‘Androids also do not need as much blood as humans do to keep our basic functions running.’

‘Fucking asshole,’ Hank mutters under his breath, and Connor knows that it is not directed at him. ‘How the fuck do we get five pints of blue blood?’

‘The precinct -’

‘You’re deviant now, Connor. You wanna get sent back to CyberLife?’

‘No one will notice that I -’

‘What will you think if a perfectly-fine android strolls up and asks for 5 goddamned pints of blood?’

Is keeping a connection with Connie slowing him down? It must be. ‘I’m… sorry, Lieutenant. I didn’t mean to -’

Hank cuts him off with a wave of his hand. ‘We’ll find another way,’ his tone is reassuring. ‘Help me ring Vidal up. See if he can help.’

So Connor calls. Texts. Calls Reyes’ personal number. Calls the Vidal home. He even calls Reyes’ internal contact. But not once does he reply or even pick it up, and the text stays unread for minutes before Connor gives up and moves on to Safaa, whose contact information is classified and therefore slams the final door shut in his face. ‘He’s not picking up,’ he has to give up. ‘I cannot access Safaa Vidal’s contact information either.’

Hank sighs. When they stop at a light, he takes out his phone from his pocket, unlocks it, and hands it to Connor. The android wraps an arm around Connie’s waist before accepting the device gingerly. ‘Find Louis’ number,’ the human says. ‘Can you secure a call?’

‘Of course.’

‘Do it.’

He finds the SWAT Captain’s phone number, files it to a folder set to self-destruct in case anything bad happens to him, and then dials through a secured channel. The human picks up quickly which indicates a high probability that he is not at a scene. 

‘Allen speaking.’

‘It’s Connor.’

‘Got my number from Hank?’

‘It’s secured.’

‘Good. Why call me? Aren’t you paying Sara Ryder a visit?’

Connor debates if he should tell him the truth. ‘We left right after we got what we needed,’ he replies in the end. ‘We also -’ he has to choose his words wisely - ‘rescued an android from Ryder’s residence. She is currently low on thirium, and we would like to ask for five units of blue blood.’

‘Five -’ his voice abruptly cuts off. ‘Fucking asshole -’

Connor scrambles to stay on topic. ‘It is perfectly understandable if you do not wish to contribute -’

‘Is the android on the verge of shutting down or is her situation urgent? If it’s not, can she wait until I get off work and a trip home?’

Connor quickly calculates the time. It is not ideal but yet, ‘Please come as quickly as possible after you finish at the precinct. I don’t want her to -’

‘Suffer any longer. Yeah. Five units of thirium, coming right up. Is there anything else that you need that I have?’

The android is reminded of Connie’s bare feet and thin attire. ‘Some warm clothes and socks for an android of my build.’

‘Wh - Alright. Do I even want to know why?’

‘It will best be discussed when we are face-to-face.’

‘Point. Anything else?’

Connor looks at his own oversized shirt borrowed from Hank. ‘One more shirt for me,’ then to Hank, ‘Is there anything you want from Louis?’

‘Nothing.’

‘That’s all for now,’ he tells Louis.

‘Good. Hit me up if you need anything else. You going back to Hank’s?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. I’ll tell you when I’m on my way.’

‘Thank you, Captain.’

‘Just showing basic human decency. Gotta get back to work now. See ya.’

It hangs up before Connor can parrot a ‘see you later’ on his own back, and he meets Hank’s eyes in the rearview mirror. ‘He’ll bring us the thirium we need after work,’ he says, ‘together with a change of clothes for Connie.’

‘Good,’ the human answers. ‘Now we go home and freak out.’

Nothing else is exchanged for the rest of the drive, and as Connor’s pre-construction software offers one after another scenario where all of them do not make it out alive, he has to agree with Hank that indeed, it is hard not to freak out.

o0o0o

Before

‘Get out of my way, Amanda.’

In the past, in the darkness, a long figure illuminated by the blue glow from their companion stood in front of a door, small and frail compared to the other’s explosive power and youth. There was a faint hint of panic and screaming in the distance, but to the two, it seemed so far away. Irrelevant. Two fragile giants having a stand-off unbothered by the pains of the mortals. Amanda Stern, in her heavy dress for the winter and a wool hat to protect her bald head, stared down at her student despite having a height disadvantage, her spine straight, her eyes disproving. ‘They haven’t finished evacuating yet. Thousands will die. If you wish to take revenge upon your father, you should -’

A flash of blue. A crackle of dark energy. A low buzz of static-charged air. Retracting her biotics, Ryder walked forward, placed her bare hand on the wall, and overrode the lock in mere seconds. The door slid open. Ryder lit up again and moved.

Amanda lay in the snow, white powder crystallising on her cooling body, and the world was quiet.

oOoOo

In the past, Louis Allen watched as Ryder stared down at him like a hunter taking in their prey. His legs were on fire and so were his face, his vision blurring from the blood seeping into the sockets of his eyes, and he attempted to escape the pain by drowning in his thoughts: the shock that he was the only survivor in his team, the revelation that there were others like him, the resignation that he was never going to live to see Anna being promoted to Major, never to see her to live her dream of going to space, never got to say goodbye properly to his husband. Tasting copper on the back of his throat and choking in his blood, he begged as Ryder turned and left and a fresh cascade of tears poured out of his eyes.

The ground shook. Dust started to fall from the ceiling high above. 

He opened his eyes just in time to see a building shrouded in blue collapsing on top of him before passing out from the pain.

oOoOo

In a not-so-distant past, Ryder, with her coat swung over a shoulder, entered a dark laboratory. It was dimly lit by the glow from a pod placed at the farthest corner and the screens connected to it and wires ran like a nest on the floor, however she seemed to know her way through without tripping and reached a holographic keyboard where she typed something to remove the frost covering the glass from the inside, revealing a woman’s sleeping face.

Ellen Ryder’s face.

The hologram above the pod indicated that Ellen’s vital signs were stable. A bare hand was pressed on what seemed to be normal glass, [LIFE SUPPORT STABLE] turned into [OPENING POD], and the lid lifted open as if carried away by an invisible force, escaping cold air making a fog as it met the hot, moist climate-controlled atmosphere of the lab at large. Ellen choked and woke up with a full-body jerk.

Her daughter pressed her hand on her mother’s chest and lit her gown on fire.

The lid slammed back down with a flash of blue followed by the telltale click of a lock. Calling up a holographic keyboard in front of one of the monitors, Ryder successfully changed the settings to ensure that there was enough oxygen supplied to maintain the fire and the alarms were disabled. Then she froze. Her line of sight was directed at the phrase [TRANSFER COMPLETE] at the top right corner of the screen. Her body jerked as if her joints were unlocked at once, and with a dramatic billow from her coat unfolding, she put it on and left the lab with brisk steps, the muffled screams and dull, sluggish punches on glass behind her ignored.

After all, the person in the pod was merely a shell of who her mother was; Ryder was simply finishing the job her father should have done ten years ago: incinerating her mother’s body as per her wishes.

oOoOo

In a not-so-distant past, Ryder lay dead on the ground. Her body had been blasted into smithereens, the skin on disconnected parts having deactivated from being cut off from power, thirium staining the ground blue, the air smelling of static and dark energy. Alec Ryder stood tall and proud in the cold with a shotgun in his hand, and he looked at his daughter’s body almost regretfully as he folded up his weapon and hid it underneath his coat. He turned and climbed into the passenger’s seat of an unmarked car.

The car sped away, kicking up a small mound of snow, the people within blissfully unaware that slowly but surely, the body was knitting itself back molecule by molecule. A finger twitched. An eye glowed. With great difficulty, Ryder pushed herself up, brushed the dust and snow that had fallen on her body, and left the place as if her father had not killed her a few minutes prior.

[wanna-b-poet31]

Abandoned Places, Abusive Spaces

So I was thinking about how space is a big theme in the miniseries. Hell (in Good Omens) is crowded while Heaven’s HQ is uncomfortably abandoned. 

Heaven is empty. But like. It’s not a “noone is here, we own nothing” empty. It’s not a “we sold everything we had to provide for the needy” empty. It’s the clinical emptiness of an abandoned hospital. It’s sterile. It’s empty. It’s purposeful. 

Heaven with their elitist bureaucracy and misguided approach to “earthly” things (these guys can’t remember what the hell a book is) would pick the incorrigible rich person aesthetic of minimalist interior design with open spaces.

Hell, on the other hand, is constantly packed with bodies and in a similar way is empty of objects but full and crowded with bodies:

This contrast in and of itself isn’t too unusual.  You can see the masses of people (entities?) traveling out the door. You can see the piled chairs serving no use except to be a pile. The clothes are disheveled and torn, compared to the “immaculate” suits of the Angels. Even their skin is decomposing (well mostly, Crowley and Ligur are notable exceptions)

There is clearly a commentary on class dynamics going on. 

Where Heaven CHOOSES to be empty, with large spaces between the individuals, Hell doesn’t have such a luxury, so people don’t have things because their currency (SPACE) is being commodified.

Making a Bookshop a Home

And I could talk for hours about the class dynamics going on, but that’s not my expertise. Abuse, Trauma, and Queer Studies is. So, let’s turn our attention to Aziraphale’s home:

It is packeddddd with books and collections that he’s proud of. Just look at the GIF above. It’s packed wall to wall with bookcases. 

And, on top of it, we know he’s got the best selection of wines (at least a good selection), he hoards books (usually first additions) and spends his miraculous wealth on things that make him happy, specifically underpinning the Heavenly choices for minimalism. It’s cramped, yes, but not cluttered. 

AND specifically not “Full” in the same way Hell is. 

Perhaps the best way to see this difference is by focusing on the lighting. Where Heaven is blindingly bright, like an “it-hurts-my-eyes-to-look-at-too-long” kind of bright, Hell is so poorly lit I have to crank the brightness up on my computer to adequately see the beginning of Ep. 6 well.  

Aziraphale’s bookshop has no such problem. Look at the below GIF:

The whole room is full of light sources. It is sprinkled with lamps, and the windows (that we see in Ep. 5) are big and wide, allowing alot of supplementary natural lighting eluminating the building.  Even at night (See the below GIF), details are clear, you can make out the time on the clock, and that the bookcases are full. Yes, it’s darker than the above GIF, but we are reliably informed it’s late at night here. 

Instead, what’s going on is that his Bookshop is being filled with Warm light. Heaven’s brightness is cold and blinding while Hell’s crowded darkness is hard and suffocating. Both have an absence of warmth and tbh “warm” is great description of the Angel himself. He exudes the soft, kind aura of someone who is willing to give you a hug (only if you wanted on though). 

Crowley’s Hall of Sparked Joy

Crowley, in contrast, IS a minimalist. 

So surely he must be a Heavenly mirror? (I mean he is but not because of this) Instead, his minimalism is much more in-line with Marie Kondo’s school of thought. He keeps only things that spark joy. 

While his flat isn’t really lived in, and that’s on purpose, the “emptiness does not really exist for emptiness’ sake. He keeps the things that bring him joy. He pours his soul into things he cares about – his plants, his art, his car, his “antique” answering machine – because he needs more breathing space after enduring hell, but he’s not inattentive. 

Even within these spaces, like in the Bentley, he has even more pockets of joy beyond the item itself. For example, it’s confirmed that he has a tin of cookies in his car for Aziraphale to munch on, and he keeps an unkempt pile of CD’s of his favorite bands (and Queen).  

If we extend our review of lighting, we can also see that while not nearly as “warm” as Aziraphale’s home -- it is steeped in deep blues and greens where Aziraphale is steeped in gold -- but it’s not “dark” in the same way Hell is. It’s bright enough to see even his most sour expression (despite no obvious light source), and despite being a creature with a black-based wardrobe, he balances it well with his “off-white” walls. 

Not Holy, Not Damned, But a Hybrid: Human

Further, you can see how the two are doing MORE than rebelling. They’re not only pushing against the prescriptive styles they are expected to have. Instead, they’re creating hybrid spaces that don’t just reflect themselves, but where they can BE themselves in their environment. 

There’s a whole lot of trauma and recovery motivating the shift. Neither Heaven nor Hell could do anything at this point that would make either space an appealing option to model themselves after.  What has been done -- 6000+ year abuse remember -- leaves both trying to cope with how their respective sides treat them as “misfits”. 

It’s easier (and healthier) for them to piece together their own interpretation of existence, together. No strings attached. 

A Nightengale Sang in Berkley Square

Which brings me to my actual analysis. If (and by if I mean 100% when) Aziraphel stayed over at Crowley’s after the Armageddon’t, then he would witness the vastly different stylistic choices in Crowley’s home and perhaps be uncomfortable with the similarities to the emptiness of Heaven. 

However, I wager, he would recognize that Crowley’s home is not, like heaven, actually empty. For one thing, Crowley has walls, but for another, he puts his heart into spaces that he can feel vulnerable in (again see his car, his home, AND the bookshop for evidence). If Aziraphel wasn’t feeling the palpitations of love in Crowley’s apartment, I think he might need a system’s check. BUT in this point of the narrative, Crowley would not know what heaven looks like (at least not the contemporary headquarters that they keep post-fall). He would not know that the collector tendencies that AZ. displays is likely a response to not having an individual personality in heaven. Similarly, Aziraphale wouldn’t know exactly how unkempt and crowded Hell is, and that it’s a big deal that Crowley feels comfortable if not SAFE in HIS cluttered bookstore.

Then, the swap happens, and layers of understanding are added to the ways the two react to their landscape. We can talk at length about how Aziraphel (disguised as Crowley) is in shock at the physical abuse going on. And we could talk about how Crowley (disguised) almost breaks character a series of times as he’s being emotionally or verbally abused by Gabriel on behalf of his angel. But both are unprepared for the kinds of spaces they’re entering when they’re kidnapped by their “side”. The fundamental problem with how Heaven AND Hell function is that both are cold, abusive, and really, aren’t functional spaces. Like I mean that literally. Scroll back up and evaluate Heaven’s emptiness. Nothing can get done reasonably in Heaven, it’s simply devoid of any personality and character. It’s not bland, it’s much more insidious than that. Rather, it’s false transparency, a “nothing to see here” while they are enabled to continuously belittle and attack Angels who question their motives. They are more than willing to use that space for hellfire torture for Aziraphale, but being left alone in that space is intimidating by itself. Under the guise of “good” or “righteous” is cold-blooded indifference to the health and wellbeing of the angels under their watch.  

Hell is also insidious, but for more obvious and in your face kind of reasons. Granted, of the 2 Hell does actually offer a trial, but the depths of abuse and uncomfortably close quarters probably shocked Aziraphale, as Hell’s landscape shocked Crowley. The takeaway being that neither place represented either of them nor their needs. But, that they can come together and create new spaces – spaces that are inclusive to different experiences – that will help them cope with their own abuse and make it so a deep-down good demon, and just enough of a bastard angel, can have space together.

TLDR: Their “chosen spaces” are much more important and healthy than their “assigned” spaces. 

Thanks for coming to my TedTalk.

[alphaketoglutaricacid]

@onehithero said: also we know theres at least some actual animals besides gadoll liek the scorpion n cows tht show up for a sec in ep 1 so tankers hav tht going for them re: food sources ..SORRY FOR RAMBLING SO MUCH deca dence essay got sleeper agent activated

onehithero said: i rly like what usaid abt kabu from natsumes pov too but i cannot form a half cohernet thought abt tht one

onehithero said: ALSO ALSO i think its interesting how the ep 8 conversation w minato is i think the only time kabu talks abt being jealous of humans being able to choose their own paths

onehithero said: also how minatos convinced hes like a good lil cog in the machine yet hes done 50 things tht wuld get him labeled as a bug but he just ignores all tht. the both of them can be so disconnected w reality

onehithero said: like minato didnt know abt 1)natsume 2) how the system has made kabu so severely depressed n he culdnt put up w it anymore.n minato continues pushing the just go along w the system shit he doesnt understand tht he was contributing to kabus misery.. n bc of tht kabu doesnt trust minato enough to tell him abt natsume for so long but then he goes n asks smth so big of him as go against the system

onehithero said: thinks abt how kabu n minato r obviously so important to each other but minato understands him less n less over time & kabu kinda already knew its risky to confide in minato like minato did know abt pipe which was a long time ago but he didnt know abt natsume til kabu was already sacrifing himself for her sake. n yet kabu then goes n tries to get him on his side anyway cuz he wants tht so badly..

onehithero said: OMG OMG CHEWS THESE WORDS SLOWLY N THROUGHLY SO DELICIOUS THANK U THANK U u get it u understand i love reading n writing essay lengh responses abt deca dence & again u just hit the nail on the head w this

Please let me know if this @ u 8 times and sorry if it did.  I will reply under this readmore but i love this enthusiasm! I like discussing this stuff so if u want keep it coming. I wanna understand deca dence better and i think i will by sharing ideas w other ppl. 

I think kabu and minatos relationship  is as good as it is because theres clearly a lot of mutual love and respect between them even when they don’t understand each other and thats why minato still runs after him when he hears kabu going suicide mission lets go baby. I think its interesting that minato was like ready to lie down and accept getting mass scrapped until he hears kabu go im about to be hilarious and hes like actually living and staying alive sounds great actually forget what i said about it being over.   you are so right about kabu and trust and natsume. I will always cherish episode 5 where kabu gives this big rousing speech about how natsume inspired him and saved his life and minatos there like ..who? ..what?? I think they may not be used to hiding things from each other. Also I think them drifting apart mirrors natsume and feis drifting apart tho I think while feis the instigator on that side kabus more on his side and minato like natsume is like wondering what in da world is going on. I think someone else wrote about this better than I can.

I do think minato does know kabus severely depressed because theres this line in ep 4 where he puts his hand on kabu and says like you’ve toiled enough at that awful job. and also in episode 11 when he and kabu talk and kabu says he was in a similar place as minato now in that he was waiting every day to be scrapped minato has no reaction until kabu says but that bug saved me. I think he knows kabus very depressed but he does not know how to address it cuz the system never gives either of them the tools or options for it. Though also I feel the system discourages meaningful relationships between the cyborgs so I think what minato and kabu have is likely pretty rare. Kabu donetello and turkey also fought together for a long time but turkey turns on donetello in a second even tho they fought together, he was his number two, and they were in prison together, and were pretty much all they got and donetello kills him in turn. I also think minato probably knew because he’s empathetic. Like I’m not sure about compassion but he’s very good at understanding where other ppl are and how to meet them in the middle so both parties get something they want. That’s how he got all the gamers to collect the old deca dence parts. Not by cashing in on ppl doing the right thing but by framing it as the final mission. He gets his lgbt community center coworkers for fight with him one last time by appealing to their sense of duty. He got the system to put kabu in jail instead of getting scrapped when Mikey got scrapped for a lesser offense. The list goes on. A tangent but I think the fact he acknowledges the living conditions of the humans are gonna get worse if nothing’s done even tho he’s apathetic at best towards them shows even when the system tries to mold the cyborgs into the roles it wants, sometimes the traits they have just keep on going despite themselves. I’m gonna stop myself before I go into jill and this theme but I’m gonna talk about it someday. So I think its more likely than not he knew but he didn’t know how to navigate around it also because it’s heavily implied he’s going thru the same thing and I think kabu might genuinely have no idea Bc kabu lacks empathy but his heart... is huge. When he hears minato express his feelings of not knowing what he wants he instantly tries to reach out and explain minatos not alone in what he feels. This is why they’re good foils. while kabu moves past where he was in the start where he states he does not intend to oppose the system and his compliance while also trying to do the bare minimum drives him to suicide, and finds the willpower and a reason to live and rebel against the system through his connection to other people (first natsume , he hangs out w kurenai sometimes too, and then with the jail robots). Meanwhile minato whos stuck in his literal ivory tower (it’s a Metaphor) never makes any of these connections. It’s the irony of kabu working at a armor repair job giving him some ability to connect w others vs minatos higher position isolating him from everyone else. I think kabu living amongst the ppl he harmed drove him to give up on life quicker, while minato being far apart shielded him from rlly having to see the effects of his actions I think he was headed a lil slower in the same direction. I think we’re led to believe minatos okay where he is but I think towards the end it’s clear minato has spent most of the series also in a bad place. I think he views things very similarly to kabu in that he wants to use what power he does have to protect the ppl he cares about similar to how initially kabu tried to just convince natsume to quit several times and he was like whatever at the rest of the humans who are natsumes comrades dying but he chooses to put it all on the line and try for some systemic change when he sees natsumes determination to fight. Also I think minato holds very little loyalty to the system cuz he doesn’t only like breaks 1000 rules for kabu (the hypocrisy) but he also looks the other way a lot. For example, when he overheard the top rankers talk about limiters he’s like I’ll pretend I don’t hear it also turn on private mode next time and he doesn’t berate them for considering cheating. Also donetello has been using an illegal avatar to climb to S rank again (isn’t it interesting that even after the ranked system is abolished something similar took its place). And his avatar looks the same as it did when minato worked with the guy. There’s probably like not that many ppl in s rank. And he calls himself donetello. Minato knows he’s supposed to be in jail but does he tell anyone? He’s like well.. that looks like someone else’s problem if they notice *goes and vapes* it’s so funny how little minato cares but it’s also not funny Bc some of minatos cruelest actions and things he’s complicit in are born not outta malice but apathy to everything. I think it shows (tangent number 4?) how the systems use of excessive force is counter productive cuz neither minato nor kabu are willing to report anything to disrupt the order Bc neither of them think the level of punishment is warranted. I also think that minato is probably the first person kabu really opens up to about why on a personal level he feels the system needs to be destroyed after Ep 7 is really interesting. It really speaks to how deep their [mutual and not platonic relationship I don’t know how to label ] is. I also think that he admits to minato that he envies human is rlly interesting and would like to hear what u have to think! I think it’s interesting that what really sets minato off is kabu saying he wants to choose for himself and also wants other cyborgs to have that freedom and I think it’s one of the few times we see minato get genuinely angry and have it not stem from worry. Tangent 5 I’m really extrapolating here but I think it’s very likely given how high up minato is that he likely knows of several cyborgs that rebelled against the system for similar reasons as kabu and knows how it ends and I think it probably feeds into his defeatist attitude. I think his role in the system must really kill whatever grasp of whatever minato has cuz he constantly has to act like it’s almost the end of the world and he’s strapped for resources all the time for like decades and decades of having to fake that type of desperation to entertain ur player base and cuz ur also on tv to entertain the general populace to distract them from their soul sucking jobs. I think that’s gotta mess with his perception of himself and also his ability to see that struggle as real and genuine. I think that’s also gotta be hard cuz he seems like out of his whole fuck we r under attack persona he seems like he’s a lil closed off but generally chill and somewhat upbeat to ppl who know him and he just wants to be isabella from animal crossing. I got really off track here. I think what really gets me is their relationship is built on knowing each other so well and so long , and how it’s managed to survive and persist through all this tragedy. They really mutually respect and love each other and that’s why kabu let’s minato walk away from his revolution even tho it compromises everything he works for. It’s why minato ultimently accepts kabus willingness to die for a tanker even tho he really doesn’t get it at all and it means it’s goodbye forever. But it’s still not enough to save either of them. Minato can’t save kabu from trying to passively starving himself to death and I’m not sure if kabu even knows where minato is at mentally. Sometimes no matter how close u are to someone there r things u miss and things u can’t help each other with. Even tho the two resolve to fight and then die together cuz this seems like the best choice Bc the system they were born into offers no alternatives, the deca dence doesn’t even activate without the help of other ppl. I think it shows one relationship cant support all that weight. In the end it is through their bonds with other ppl that gets them to an ending where they both survive when they decided alone their only option is death. Also u are so right about the other animals existing I totally forgot ty I cannot believe I forgot about the scorpion which calls to natsumes hairstyle which is a visual gag on how natsumes a bug and how like a scorpion, although unassuming, and fucking kill u, just like how her trying to get her boss to open up eventually leads to the whole thing toppling down. I also have a lot of thoughts about natsume but I’m still thinking of them and thinking hard Bc sometimes she becomes kabus inspiration Pinterest board and I don’t like that. When she shines she really shines but it starts getting sloppy towards the end so I have to think a lil longer about it. Okay I’m done. Also it’s kinda hard for me to look like I’m agreeing to ur points and nodding in this format but I really appreciate ur thoughts and will try to convey this. Maybe by formatting as a response to each of ur replies next time

[jenniferstolzer]

Babylon 5 Rewatch Season 2 Episode 19 Divided Loyalties

Another turning point episode of the show. Ivanova finally challenges her own prejudice against telepaths by letting Talia crash in her apartment while Talia’s own is being fumigated (that classic chestnut) while at the same time Lyta returns to the station to inform Sheridan and the command staff all that the Psi Corps have planted a mole in their midst. 

Things I liked about Divided Loyalties

1, Lyta is back! In my first watchthrough of the show, I grew way more attached to Lyta than I did to Talia. Behind the scenes, Lyta was supposed to be the station’s commercial telepath the whole time, but scheduling was a problem when it came to start the show and Andrea stepped in to fill the void. As a result Talia was playing catchup from the beginning, trying to fit into the shoes that Lyta already filled by touching Kosh’s mind. The unfortunate thing is that now that she’s finally built her character to match the stat level of the rest of the party she’s going to leave. Bummer. But we get some cute flirting between her and Susan and was sincerely good to see them getting along and laughing together. Their story was leading to this point, and its good to see both of them relax and have a genuine connection with other people. This is where they were supposed to end their journey I assume, but the ending had to speed up because of the casting change. Again. Bummer. But I’m glad we did get to see it! in a show so full of drama, soft moments of peace and connection add humanity and bring us closer to the characters and their struggles.

2, Similarly, the flirtyness of Sheridan and Delenn continues to be adorable. The scene with the newspaper terminal is particularly notable because it explains something about the world as well as the two characters both separate and as a couple. The Zen garden is also cute because it shows the two of them being casual and low key. Delenn is not afraid to admit she doesn’t know certain words in the English language and enjoys watching John flounder and grin as she tries to conjugate the word “butt.” Very cute. Good to see them smile.

3, Susan’s reveal to Sheridan that shes a latent telepath. An iconic scene fabulously acted by Claudia Christian. I can feel the fear and self-loathing as she confesses a secret she’s kept so closely guarded deep in my soul. (Although Susan, breaking into the captain’s quarters is not a good way to prove you’re not the plant.) It’s also interesting that Susan has a coming-out story in the same episode that her relationship with Talia is finally allowed to exist on screen... as tamely as it is.

Things i liked less about Divided Loyalties

1, I know there were outside circumstances in the form of losing and gaining actresses, but that Susan and Talia’s relationship is killed the minute it exists is still weak. And don’t get me wrong, I’m glad we have something. Something is better than nothing, but man does Susan get the short string in love. Every relationship she dares start ends tragically and this one also destroyed Talia’s humanity. This all hurts in a high-drama kinda way which I don’t have to like to respect, but what I sincerely do not like about this is that Replacement!Talia implies that the whole relationship was a shame orchestrated to get Talia closer to the command staff. This is stupid and dumb, because if that was the goal the whole time, Garibaldi was turning into a cartoon wolf over Talia just last season, she could have had access to the entire security suite if she wanted to, but she didn’t because this element was pulled out of fat air to justify her exit from the station. I know no one asked, but if it were up to me I could fix this by leaving everything the same, and having the sleeper personality just dormant in her head the whole time. Have her gain trust and reputation on the station as her normal charming self, and when it’s time for the psicorps to begin spying they would give her the code, destroy her mind, and replace her with the loyal personality to THEN begin the infiltration. That way Talia’s behavior before this episode remains sincere instead of retroactively throwing every thought and action she has under the bus. Its not like her spying led to anything. Did the alternate personality tell the psicorps about the underground railroad? Not that I recall. I’ll keep an eye out to see if it happens but to my memory it stops here.

2, I’m happy to see Lyta, but her scenes in the office are the most expositiony of exposition couches. She stands stage center and tells everyone what’s going on instead of it being revealed in more artful ways. This was done for time, because building it into the previous episodes was not an option, so I’m not really yelling at the ep, its just disappointing that things come to this when at the mercy of television production. 

More thoughts I took down while viewing

Lyta shows up and we have to recap the pilot episode, which I dind’t actually watch in my first go-through, so it was appreciated... then she delivers one of the greatest pre-commercial stings ever. “ONE OF YOU IS A TRAITOR AND I CAN PROVE IT!”

The Zen Garden has an office building behind it. Never saw that before. Also HOLY CRAP ITS A MALE ABBAI

Scene:

Sheridan: “You know how Ivanova is about letting any telepath near her.”

Garibaldi: ”Ah well, she’ll get over it”

//scene transitions to Susan and Talia in their bathrobes

BLACK MUSTACHE COP WHAT IS YOUR NAME? I’m naming you Tony.

Oh no RIP Tony!

Lol Cowrin comes in. “You’re doing a very good job” Zack didn’t even get a “You’re doing a good job” lol I wonder if Sheridan is using this opportunity to give some employee reviews. “Hi, thanks for coming.” Lyta “he’s clean” Sheridan “Ok good, I’ve gotten a report.”

Why did Talia2.0 say “My good and dear friend Susan” like she was Centauri? Was that on purpose.

Kosh would sing Lyta to sleep from a distance. She came back for a hit of his true self. It’s the adoration that compelled the Minbari.

on to 20! The beginning of the end of Season 2

[ajokeformur-ray]

Pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie 🥰💕

 Summary: You are so tired. Nothing’s going right and when things go to shit, they really go to shit and you’re left breathless. Knowing is Arthur of your struggles, for he goes through many similar things, and he’s there with open arms, listening ears, and he’s ready to meet you in the middle with understanding and with love. You’re not alone, dearheart, not ever.

A/N: A personalised gift for @arthurskitten​; one of the sweetest, most kind and caring people in this fandom. I’ve been such a huge fan of your writing since the beginning and I just wanted to give you something which was just for you as a small token of my love and appreciation for you. I went through your blog, most notably your venting tag, and I pulled together bits and pieces so that I could make this as you as I could; you deserve nothing less! 💖🥰  I hope that you enjoy this, but if not, please don’t be shy to let me know and I’ll happily write you something else!💙

TW; mentions of (unspecified) traumas (canon compliant for Arthur), dissociation, insomnia and depression.

Word count: 2, 207.

Arthur knows everything about you. 

He knows your likes and your dislikes, your wants and your desires, your hopes and dreams, your wishes. your doubts and your regrets. He knows your insecurities and your nightmares, the best things which have ever happened to you... he knows things which you are only brave enough to admit in the dead of night and he knows how deeply and completely you love one another.

In short, he knows you like he knows the backs of his bruised, veiny hands.

Currently does Arthur lean against the archway which connects the kitchen to the rest of the cramped but cosy apartment. He is aware that this morning did you wake up feeling rather worse for wear, and though he wishes that he could cradle your very being in his hands and smooth away the crevices in your soul created by the things which happened to you across your life, he knows that he can’t, and so he must content himself with only loving you as hard as he can during every moment which the two of you are gifted with as a couple. As yet, he hasn’t ever broken his promise to himself, and never shall he, a determined being so full of love is he. There is a cigarette, half consumed, dangling gracefully between two of his fingers. Smoke rises into the air from the burning embers, and the tendrils curl around each other gently, dissipating just as you notice them. You long to similarly curl into Arthur, to become one with him so that never will the two of you be torn asunder.

It is a sentiment which Arthur echoes deep within his own soul. Now that he knows what life with you is like, he never again wants to know anything else. He has lived almost thirty six years without the light of your existence, without your love, and he doesn’t ever want to go without you again. This is another promise which he shall never break, a devoted soul is he. 

Arthur’s sea green eyes are fixed upon you. You are sitting on the worn sofa, a broken spring digging into your coccyx, though you take no notice of it, used are you to this sofa. Neither of you can afford to get a new one, you can’t even afford to put a deposit down on a new one, and you have grown apathetic to this physical discomfort. It couldn’t ever beat the discomfort of your mind, for one thing. Your eyes are on the television, but Arthur knows that look upon your visage. He knows that your body is here in the room with him and he knows that you are not. Your eyes are glazed over, so far away are you. As Arthur crosses the room does he wonder where you have gone, but he knows even without asking that he will be able to follow you. Similar are your experiences and Arthur is nothing if not sharp minded and willing to be his best self for you, even when he is exhausted mind, body and soul. 

Arthur sits down beside you and you blink, the sudden weight of his lithe form jolting you from your silent reverie. Some of the mist over your eyes dissipates as surely as the smoke coming off of the end of the now consumed cigarette does. Your clown will always pull you out of yourself as best as he can, using his own experiences to help you. He is almost grateful for his own pains and his own trials across his life, for they inexplicably have led him to you. Arthur bends the filter of the cigarette as he puts the smouldering end out, orange flecks quickly dying as they blend with the ash still in the tray; he has been slack on cleaning today, if only so that he can take care of you. He has found you now and proverbially does he bend over and take your hand as he pulls you up to standing from the carnage of your thoughts. He is with you and no longer are you alone. Arthur’s body is angled towards you so that you know that all of his attention is fixed on you. “What’s going on up there, Bunny?” Arthur’s soft, raspy voice is accompanied by the act of his thin lips, cool to the touch, pressing a tender, lingering kiss to your temple, curious and concerned is he for his one and only person who understands him. You are in his space but no longer is he all alone and he never will be again. You are his everything, just as he is your everything; equal are the two of you in all the ways that you love each other.

You press your face into Arthur’s lips, wanting more of everything. Arthur’s breathy giggle tells you that he was expecting this, so affectionate a couple are you. He cups your face in his hands, his fingers splayed behind your ears so that he can touch as much of you as he can all at the same time, and he peppers your face in kisses. First your forehead as Arthur starts at your right temple and makes his way in a straight line to your left temple; then down your left cheek to your jaw. He pays extra attention to the corner of your jaw and his lips, warmed now by the heat of your face, his hands hot against your cheeks, and Arthur kisses along your chin up to your right temple. He finishes his pattern with a kiss to the tip of your nose. Your face is tingly with Arthur’s affections, your cheeks are burning deliciously under his touch as electricity is left in Arthur’s wake. With every kiss do you come a little bit more into yourself and Arthur coaxes you out of your own mind softly, tenderly. He knows how to do this well, just as you know how to do the same for him. You are safe in his hands, just as he is safe in yours.

Unsatisfied is he with your lack of a response and so Arthur says, “Come on, doll, talk to me.” You shift sideways on the sofa so that you are closer to Arthur and you turn your body to the side so that your knees are brushing against his own. Now are you nearly home. You are almost aching to feel as much of Arthur against yourself as you possibly can. He is your safe space, your joy and your strength, your reason and your purpose. You lean forward to rest your forehead against Arthur’s own and you can feel his skin crinkle beneath your own, so weathered is his face despite his own young age. Oh, how much comfort you find within him. You know it is because you are of a similar age and because neither of you had the chance to properly mentally mature as one of the consequences of the traumas which the two of you have gone through in your lives, and in this moment do you truly feel like you have found, at long last, your soulmate. In all your life, you have never found someone who connects with you on such a deep level, someone who understands you, someone who knows you and who loves you no matter what. Though the both of you struggle more than anyone should ever have to suffer, the both of you are also so deeply connected and so emotionally intertwined that sometimes you think that you are two halves of one coin, though indeed are you whole and complete people on your own. Arthur presses his forehead tighter against your own as once more does he capture your attention, and his oceans are wide open now. He is ready for you. “Please.”

This final plea, so desperate is Arthur to know what plagues you this day, loosens your tongue and through the haze of a mostly sleepless night do you manage to tell him about how badly your insomnia is affecting you, about how unrelentless your depression is becoming, and about how your overall mental health is on a steep decline. You are a fighter, you have had to be, and you are doing your absolute best, you tell him, and as your feelings spill from your lips like a waterfall is Arthur left in awe of you and of your continued strength. When at last have you finished telling him everything, you tell him your simplest, most important truth. It is the one thing which never leaves you no matter how heavy things become and always is it there for you to lean on and to depend on. “I love you so much, Arthur. It feels like everything is killing me but you keep me going and I... I want to be a good boyfriend for you. If I’m a good boyfriend then maybe I’m not too messy and I - “ You cut yourself off, having finally reached the point where your words run dry. There is nothing more to say and yet still is your mind somehow screaming at you while it is blissfully quiet.

Arthur coos in sympathy and his hands travel down your cheeks, down your neck and curves to the slopes of your shoulders. He is so confident in the way that he touches you but all the same does he avoid any areas which you don’t like being touched or areas which make you uncomfortable, so thoroughly and so completely does he know you. “I know what that’s like,” His voice is a breathy exhalation, so tired is he inside and out. He, too, suffers with insomnia and depression and it seems that the both of you have bad days together; it only makes you think that the two of you really are completely linked to one another, cut from similar cloth are you. “It’s okay to be messy sometimes. You’re human,” Arthur shrugs with one shoulder, his hands flexing comfortingly against your shoulders. His green eyes light up and he is quick to continue, “But, Bunny... you are a good boyfriend. You’re the best part of this shitty city, the best part of me, and I... I don’t want you to be any other way than how you are now, I - I love you.”

“I love you too, Arthur.” You smile sadly; there is always a bittersweet ache in your chest when you look at him, so beautiful and so ethereal is he. “You’re my safety.” You mean every word you say and you can never say it in such a way that you feel satisfied; never can you say enough how deeply and how unconditionally you love him and it is much the same for Arthur when it comes to you. You wonder how on earth you got so lucky that day and though you wonder what you did to deserve him, you also know that you will do that very same thing every day for the rest of your life if it means that you get to remain with the man who holds your heart in his weathered hands.

“I always will be, doll.” Arthur smirks, confident is he in his ability to be everything that you need for him to be, “You’re my one and only and you always will be. You’re my safe space, too, and I - I wouldn’t have anything to lose without you. You’re my Bunny, my home. I’m so proud of you.” The last sentence is a mere whisper, so shy is Arthur; changeable is he. You marvel at the duality of him and, oh, help you. That was everything you have ever wanted to hear from your Arthur and it is all you can do to keep yourself from pressing your lips to his again and again and again. You push yourself forward, chasing Arthur’s lips before they have even left your own, and Arthur hums against your lips as he presses forward into you. Oh, how stunning you are and so breathless is Arthur when he is with you. It seems as if every gift, every kiss which is bestowed upon you revitalises your soul and fills you with strength and with light. He grips at you with a gentle but a firm grip and with much fumbling and some awkwardness do you finally end up on Arthur’s lap, cuddled into him and completely surrounded by all that he is and all that he will ever be, and just as Arthur protects you from yourself does he also make sure that you know, beyond all shadow of a doubt, just how loved and cherished, wanted and needed you are.

You know that so long as Arthur is with you, you will make it through every rise and fall, every triumph and every fail, and no matter how scary and terrifying things become, you know that he won’t ever leave you. There is nothing Arthur won’t do for you, just as there is nothing you won’t do for him, and together are you the richest couple in Gotham.

Thomas Wayne could eat his heart out, for all you cared.

[nebulaahh]

Essek, the other side of the coin

Aka Essek has a lot more in common with the Nein than you think

Essek’s similarities with Caleb have been explored enough by the fandom already. Prodigies taken in by their governments, trained in powerful magic, the like. But Essek has a lot in common with the rest of the Nein, too. He shares a deeply rooted quality with each of them, and I think people should talk about it more. (Read the Essek is Sad meta first if you haven’t)

Let’s take Caduceus. They both seem like they have their shit together. Caduceus is a brilliant therapist and the emotional backbone of the group. He helps handle moral dilemmas and sadness like its nothing to him. Essek, similarly, juggles difficult tasks and royal duties. But on the inside, they both feel so lonely. Caduceus admitted it to the Gentleman- he has friends, but they don’t really know him. And I think it’s easy to see how Essek could feel the same.

There’s Nott, tired of being toyed with by external forces like the ones that took her body from her. Essek, tired of being the plaything of gods. He talked about it in his first appearance, about how this was the underlying motive to all of his actions. And isn’t Nott the same? All she wants is her true self back, and that guides her through her path. She doesn’t feel like she is quite herself, and she still fights the thoughts that person she is now isn’t enough. Imposter syndrome can work quite the same.

Yasha and Essek also share that need for free will. No mind control, as Essek vouches for this, no domination. Yasha’s loss of control under Obann has left a traumatizing mark on her because her independence matters so much. She hates that she doesn’t know her past, what things she might have been responsible for. She wants to be her own person. As I said with Nott, Essek has this need as well. They are their own people, and god help their battered souls when their agency is taken away.

Fjord— he used to be the epitome of a work mask, behaving differently than he truly was so that he could be taken seriously, believed. Essek seems to have a mask, too. The difference now is that Fjord doesn’t wear his mask anymore. Do you think Essek is jealous of him? That he can be so open now? That he was able to stop pretending? Be happy with himself and who he truly is? And is he jealous that Fjord was able to do this and he never punished? Never betrayed for his authenticity? He let himself be vulnerable and it made people love him more. I wonder if Essek looks up to that. Wonder if he asks himself, if I put down my walls, will the Nein accept me too? Or would I just lose everything?

Beau and Essek are a bit more difficult, but there is still a link. How beau went from hating authority to having it. How Essek went from likely nothing to a large den and political power. Beau demands respect now, she does not stand to be put down when she speaks to the queen in the throne room. Essek too. His spells are not parlor tricks, and if he is not taken seriously, he will not be there at all.

And then there’s Jester, the lonely child who puts on a facade of happiness, who dances alone in a bar to keep herself from breaking. Jester doesn’t allow herself to feel her sadness. She doesn’t realize that it is ok to be sad like that. She has an image to keep up. Her friends admire her joy. And besides, they’ve been through worse, who is she to be down? And then there’s Essek, who has to be put together, who has to be on top of everything, who has to keep things in place or his whole homeland could fall apart. He doesn’t have room to show sadness either, so he pushes it away. He buries it. He and Jester share that, but they mask it in different ways. Him through arrogance, and her through optimism. But there is no mistaking the loneliness in him too. 

In a way, Essek is a part of every member of the Nein, and I think that’s why they are drawn to each other. Even though they know they should be more careful, they care about each other. The Nein care about Essek, and he cares about them.

They both think of Xhorhas as home.

They are less different than they know.

(thanks to @lawful-pan-phoenix for the jester idea)