#but i tend to do height order over release anyway because i think it looks nicer

[beehop]

reorganizing my albums and the ateez ones are making me unnecessarily annoyed i cannot make them look nice. why is the world ep 1 a different size square than the treasure albums?! why is from the witness a different rectangle than the fever albums?! just whyyyyy

[buckyownsmylife]

Diving Bell - Andy Barber smut

The one where Andy has been a patient librarian, but now that you’ve accepted his advances...

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, dubcon, (andy pushes the relationship into boundaries that weren’t previously consented), age gap, (reader is over eighteen and in college), semi-public sex, somewhat of an exhibitionism kink, oral (f), andy’s definitely dark but reader is generally into it, she just doesn’t know what “it” will be, dirty talk

Word count: 3k<

A/N:  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. Hope you guys like it!

Reader’s P.O.V.

My face burned and I wondered how I hadn’t spontaneously combusted from how hot I felt under the hot new librarian’s gaze. Sure, the girls had warned me about it - I’d hear so much about him, in fact, that I was sure I’d be disappointed when I actually did manage to meet him.

Boy, was I wrong.

He was the definition of daddy, luscious beard and hair just begging to be pulled and I could feel the burn his jaw would leave behind if he deposited kisses down my neck - or better yet, on the insides of my thighs - but he was at least twenty years older than me.

There was absolutely no way I’d ever catch his attention. Not when so many girls had tried to get in his pants - girls hotter than me - and had failed miserably, as I’d been told time and time again from the very same seductresses.

So I saw absolutely no point in trying. Although, one could very well admire, right? Also, fantasize couldn’t do any harm, not even to my extremely vulnerable pride. It’s not like I could control it, anyway.

But another thing I couldn’t control was his effect on me. The way my whole body warmed up when I felt his eyes on it, how I couldn’t immediately focus on his words whenever he addressed me.  I even stopped coming to the library to study because 1) I couldn’t concentrate with him around and 2) his presence had brought a whole new wave of first-time library users, and seeing as their interests weren’t on the actual books, they tended to be extremely loud.

Once essays started to get assigned though, there wasn’t much I could do. I had to get back to the library, and so I chose to go when it was already dark, hoping he wouldn’t pick up that shift, and knowing most frat girls would be at an impromptu Thursday-night party to celebrate (once again) the start of classes.

I didn’t understand why they couldn’t just throw a party for the sake of partying. Did they have to reuse the same excuse, over and over again? It’s not like anyone cared. I certainly didn’t, and the people who went for the free beer didn’t care about anything just as long as the alcohol kept flowing.

“What are you doing here?” His voice startled me, almost making me drop the pile of books I’d been gathering. Even though there was no way I’d confuse him with someone else, I still looked over my shoulder to make sure it was really him, that he was actually there, staring at me with those caring warm brown eyes.

“S-should I be anywhere else?” I tried to sass, even if my own voice gave me away. He chuckled though, extending a hand to help me with the load in my arms, and although I hesitated for a second, I ended up accepting his help. It was his job, after all. This couldn’t really be considered flirting, right?

“I don’t know. I’ve heard about this party tonight, figured you’d be there.” Frowning, I finally turned to stare at him directly in the eyes, almost immediately regretting my decision. Damn, he looked good.

“How do you know about the party?” I asked, and his lips immediately curled up, trying to contain a smile from stretching over his face.

“Some girls may or may not have invited me to meet them there.” Clicking my tongue, I decided to look back at the bookshelf, instead of paying him any more attention.

“Why? Are you jealous?” The question felt too much like something a fuckboy my age might ask me at a party, not a forty-year-old man who worked a full-time job. When I turned to look at him again, eyebrows raised high, he chuckled.

“Sorry, that’s not usually my style… I’m just at a loss of ways to get you to notice me, that’s all.” Well, now I was beyond shocked.

“Why do you want me to notice you?” I asked, utterly confused, but Andy just laughed, shaking his head at me like he was profoundly amused by my ways.

“I always notice when you’re around. Even worse, I always notice when you aren’t.” And then, as he looked around like he wanted to make sure other people wouldn’t hear him, he leaned over me and confessed, “It gets pretty lonely here without you.”

The accompanying wink almost gave me a heart attack. Stuttering out something even though I didn’t know what to say, I moved away from the bookshelf in search of the nearest table, finding it thankfully empty.

When I turned around to look for him again, he was right by my side.

“I don’t get it,” I managed to admit once my arms were book-free. “We’ve talked like twice. You helped me find books, I acted like a fool. You weren’t supposed to flirt with me, why aren’t you interested in the college girls who actually hit on you?”

He raised his eyebrows before frowning, hands deep in his pockets as he stared down at me in all of his height. “Have you ever considered… that I just don’t want them?”

The insinuation stirred something deep inside of me, leaving me flushed and overall a mess. Stumbling out an apology, I gathered my stuff and left as quickly as possible, determined to process what had happened that evening by myself, so it could actually feel real and I could decide what to do from then on.

But something changed ever since that evening. I stopped trying to run away from him and started to actively go to the library in the times I knew he was there, at first still avoiding him and looking away every time he caught me staring, silently grateful that he didn’t try to force me to open up to him.

His patience was rewarded when in a few weeks, I began to talk to him again. Asking him for book recommendations, never anything other than what was strictly related to his job, but the way his eyes glinted knowingly at me warned me that he did understand where my mind was at.

It didn’t take long for him to start flirting with me, and from then on, I slowly accepted his advances and even began to eagerly wait for them.

I smiled widely when I heard his low whistle, admiring the way he looked in that comfortable sweater as he put away the books he was holding to fully give me all of his attention.

“Well, don’t you look incredible?” He asked as I twirled so he could fully see the dress I’d put on just for him. “Did you dress up for me, pretty girl? Because I like to think that you did.”

Biting my lower lip, I tried to gather the courage I’d been trying to build up all week, before finally nodding and admitting, “Yes, I did.” From the stupefied look on his face, it didn’t seem like he was expecting that. Even worse, I wasn’t expecting the outcome of my little attempt to flirt back.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” And that was all the warning I got before his hands cradled my face and he took my mouth in his, kissing me breathless, leaving me aching and soaked when he finally released me.

I was panting by the time he let go of my lips, and he smiled softly at me as he brushed over my cheekbones, saying, “You know… if you ever need anything… You know I’m always here to help.”

Andy’s P.O.V.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” My own smile denounced just how much of her intentions I already knew, from how well I knew her. Her late-night visits to the library had become more and more frequent, and I couldn’t say that I hated it.

“I don’t know,” she feigned nonchalance, shrugging while perusing the bookshelves before looking back at me from over her shoulder. “The hot new librarian in charge of the night shift has told me he was always available to help me with anything I needed, and I’ve been needing a distraction.”

My chuckle was low, in order not to interrupt the few students still trying to finish whatever assignment they were working on, but she heard it. I watched as she shivered at the sound of my voice, prompting me to lick my lips at the powerful reaction I could so easily elicit from her.

“You didn’t use to be so blunt,” I teased, remembering how she used to come in here looking for me, only to run away at the last second. It was adorable. Ever since I started working at this university, it wasn’t unusual for college girls to come in groups and watch me from a distance, their giggles whenever I glanced at them unmistakable in the almost completely silent environment. Eventually, one or two would always break away from the group and try to flirt while their friends became a captive audience, but I was quick to shut them down.

They weren’t the one I wanted. She was standing in front of me now, pretending to be interested in a random book, biting her lower lip to keep a smile from spreading over her face. “Do you miss it?”

There was something undeniably attractive by her shyness back then, her inability to ask me for information or even sustain my gaze, but now that I knew what it was like to have her meet my eyes, now that I’d had the luxury of hearing her speak, of getting to know the intricacies of her mind, how could I miss what was, back then, a stranger?

“Not at all.” Her laughter, even subdued because of the place we were in, was enough to have my stomach doing backflips. I had to smile, instinctively getting closer to her, just like a moth, drawn to a flame. 

“I want to do dirty, dirty things to you,” I admitted, one hand on the back of her head as I pressed her against the bookshelf, my lips just over her ear as my beard undoubtedly tickled her neck. “Can’t very well protect my soul if I’m still thinking about you as an innocent little thing, now can I?”

Her eyes dropped down to my lips before meeting mine again, and just like that, I had all the authorization I needed to connect our lips and kiss her breathless. Humming in delight against her quiet neediness, her eagerness to open her lips, welcome my tongue with hers, I blindly moved us further towards the back of the library, relaxed in the knowledge that amongst taxidermia books no one would come to check on us.

Not that I cared all that much if they did.

“Hm… Want me, sweetheart?” I pressed, needing to hear her say it, taking sick pleasure in knowing this came from her, this was her own desire. She almost didn’t answer me, eyelids heavily pressing her eyes closed when our mouths parted, but in the absence of my touch on her, she jolted.

“Yeah, I do! I do, I do…” She insisted, pressing herself against me, feeling just how badly I wanted her too. It made her gasp, witnessing how hard she had made me - she didn’t know it yet, but it’d been this way ever since the first day.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I whispered, just to see the way goosebumps took over her flesh while I got rid of her underwear, moving us towards an empty table where I could lay her out to take.

“No, I don’t want you to stop,” she moaned when she saw me leaning over to kiss between her legs, eyes still connected to hers until she closed them to throw her head back, overtaken by the sensation of my warm tongue slipping between her folds. It was better that way, she wouldn’t see the dangerous smirk that denounced that she would come to regret her words before I was done with her.

She tasted just as sweet as I always imagined her to. So wet already, it was clear she was desperate for me. The cock straining against my pants reminded me I couldn’t be too cocky about it - I wanted her just as badly.

“C’mon, honey…” I teased, dipping my tongue in her hole as my thumb frantically rubbed her tiny clit. “Give me more, I want more.” I needed her to cum before I could shove my cock into her. It was important.

The sudden tension of her thighs denounced the arrival of her orgasm, and where usually I’d love nothing more than to keep licking her, delighting myself with her taste and overstimulating her sweet body until she was crying, there was only so much I could take tonight.

“There you go,” I complimented when she easily succumbed to my directions, having turned her around and laid her with her stomach on the table, legs dangling off of it. “Want to feel me now, pretty girl? Want me to fill you now?”

Her answer was a whine as her hips searched for mine. She was offering herself to me, the innocent little thing. Didn’t know I’d take her regardless of it.

I had the instinct of slapping my hand over her mouth as I penetrated her, and so her moan came out muffled. I could still understand a breathless, “so good…” being uttered against my palm, and it only made me bite down on my lip harder, so my own sounds wouldn’t reverberate across the silent library.

It was a twisted kind of pleasure to hold her arms back as I fucked her roughly but as silently as possible, trying not to make the table squeak so it wouldn’t draw attention to us. Even though I didn’t particularly care if someone did find us - I wouldn’t stop fucking her if God himself tried to intervene -  I’d prefer to reach my goal without unwanted interferances.

So I was glad she didn’t seem to mind the fact that anyone could easily look our way and see us fucking. Had I really tempted her that much, that she would let me do whatever I wanted to her body, just as long as I fucked her?

Guess I was about to find out.

“Do you know how many times I masturbated in the back room, thinking about this sweet pussy?” I asked, voice raspy with desire as I kept jackhammering her as quietly as possible, but probably failing to do so in the midst of my arousal. “To think I finally have it now, wrapped around my dick…” My voice faltered as I realized all of my dreams were about to come true, right at that moment.

“Can’t wait to fuck my cum back into you, sweetheart. I’m gonna keep you so full from now on.” I felt her body tense underneath my fingers as she processed my words, but it was too late for her now. My hand still over her mouth, I stopped her from screaming or fighting me in any way.

“Just relax, honey. Doesn’t it feel so good?” I mocked, fucking her harder and harder as my control slipped from me. “It feels good for me, too. So now you’ll have to take it.”

Reaching around for her clit, I started rubbing it in quick little motions, desperate to feel her cunt clenching around me once more, milking my cum.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Cum again for me. Let me keep making you feel good as you do the same for me.” Her orgasm had her legs raising between mine, right when I started to spill inside of her, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Once I was sure she wouldn’t scream, I took my hand away and pushed her back against the desk, massaging her ass eagerly, hoping it would take.

“You’ll look so good all round with my child.” Once I pulled my cock from her, I made sure to adjust her underwear so it would stop my cum from flowing, massaging the damp tissue with a smug expression.

She managed to turn around in my embrace, blinking confusedly, mouth opening and closing as if she couldn’t quite figure out what she wanted to say, and I cooed at her adorableness.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of you and the little one.” I rubbed my hand over where she would soon grow, licking my lips at the mental image of her pregnant. God, why did that make me so hard?

“You can trust me,” I assured her, pulling her closer to I could kiss her forehead, before adjusting her body so it rested on mine. I knew there were tears rolling down her cheeks, but it was just from her coming down from the adrenaline high. She wanted this. She just needed to be able to think clearly to see just how perfect this would be. “We’ll be so happy together.”

[f1-omorashi-watersports]

20 Minute Writing Challenge

thought i’d try my hand at a 20 minute writing challenge! tw for dub-con (not my usual thing,I promise! this was just for a change) blackmail,humiliation. George/Max Max grinned a predatory smirk, as he watched the Mercedes pull up behind him to take P2,tapping on the dashboard as he shot Hamilton a wave for good measure, Red Bull were finally gaining ground,showing their superiority over Mercedes for another week running.

It was time to strike them when they were down, finally plant a seed in Mercedes like they'd done many years ago, You've got to make them really hurt, Christian had told him. And Max couldn't help but admit that Christian’s schemes always tended to bare fruit...

Like his most recent one....to strike a link inside Mercedes,without going near Mercedes at all. Toto Wolff was truly going to look like a Ferrari circus clown after practically parading their next British saviour around in front of the entire media....

George clapped his trainer on the back stiffly as he climbed out of the car  hissing as the pressure in his bladder seemed to only grow worse on solid ground, but that was ok.  It was just a burn you felt after races, he'd seen multiple drivers rush off after a race,had done so himself multiple times. It would be as simple as crossing the distance to the restroom.

He walked stiffly across the Paddock, hands fidgeting nervously as he sighed in relief, he'd actually make it out completely dry this time. His Driver's Room.

He let his hands fall from his side, finally grinning. Everything was going all right for him. He felt his muscles relaxing slightly,closing his eyes and putting a hand on the door.

"It's nice to finally meet you in person, George. "

George froze, the wind knocked out his sails as he fall back against the wall,his bladder throbbing,aching for release. But it would have to wait. Because sitting right there on his couch,was none other than Max Verstappen.

"Bloody hell-mate you scored the daylights out of me." He muttered anxiously, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as his bladder begged him to just hold himself.

Max, didn't even look amused. Simply drumming a hand along his thigh as he looked the other up and down.

"Oh fuck did I? Sorry I thought Lando might have mentioned I was stopping by..." He muttered,   a rough edge to his voice. "It doesn't matter anyway, I'm here and your here. "

Max studied the others face for any sign of a reaction,the poor thing was so obvious,the hand just above his crotch, the sweat burrowing on his brow. His little shifts that he thought Max couldn't see,like he wasn't 6'4. He almost looked cute like this,in a way.

"So....can I help you with anything mate...." George said with a gulp,feeling the dutchman's gaze studying him.

"Yeah you actually can mate,you must be bursting for a piss right? After a race and all,it gets like that." Max started to comment,watch the other go bright red and start to splutter.

"Mate what the actual fuck are you on about-thats not a thing you say to people - that's weird mate..." George ranted, starting to squirm as his speaking speaking even quicker, facing the bathroom.

"But if you could excuse me-Your not wrong, just give me a minute..." He admitted ,face flushing as be began to step towards the bathroom. But Max was lightning quick, like a lion striking their prey.

"I don't think your going anywhere fucker." And there it was,Max's grin changing into a full on toothy smile,  stepping closer to the other. So close they could practically touch.

George towered over the other in height....but Max could make him feel small, the other looked almost frightened..... "Here's how this is going to work, cunt .I want you on your knees-" He ordered.

"Mate -what the fuck is wrong wrong you-I'm not going to-" Max shussed him again,crossing his arms and glaring up at him. "You think you have an option? You know what I could do?" He began.  "I could get anyone into that Mercedes seat...I'm friends with De Vries-even Alex....I've got the ties to Mclaren and Aston Martin-your customer teams.

George was about to yell something in response,even punch Max...but he paused,  and Max knew it had hit, he put a hand on George's shoulder and guided him down onto the hardwood flooring,as the other looked bashful up at him.

"Knew you'd see it my way...." He muttered,sitting down on the couch that was facing the Brit, crossing one leg over the other and leaning forward to watch the show.

"So tell me, you must be aching right now hm...." He started,as George stared daggers at him, squirming on the floor. Max would allow that, it wouldn't help him in the grand scheme of things.

"Mate fuck-what do you want...." He pleaded, his bladder felt like it was being held in a vice grip just by Max's eyes on him trying to force a leak out of his aching cook out into his fireproofs,  he had no control over it either. No hands, no ability to hold himself. He was totally helpless...

"Good to see your finally catching on..." Max began,pausing as he heard a dripping sound, the stream pattering on the wooden floor for a moment,grinning smugly. "You can beg if you want...but this is happening...you see this little thing here..." He pointed to his phone,winking. "This little thing needs a video of the future Mercedes golden boy pissing all over himself like  a weak little bitch.... to keep him in line."

Max relished in the others complete fury,staring up at him through angry eyes,body shaming from the sheer effort of holding it in, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes. Looking so beautifully disheveled. "But now you know...and there's nothing you can do about it but just wait for it to happen-bevause your at your limit. And I could wait hours for you to break...." Max responded to him coldly, leaning back. The room falling into an uncomfortable silence.

George writhed, twisted his hips and practically rutted at the air in a futile effort at holding it in, but it started anyway. Small drips running down his thighs as his dick twitched,pattering onto the hardwood flooring. His white fireproofs so obviously displaying his shame.

"Just look at that...fucking look at that..." Max muttered , standing up and circling the other,leaning down in front of him..

"Release...." He drawled into the Brit's ear, and to his dismay he didn't have control over his bladder anymore, Max did. He hung his head and spread his legs out as the stream started to thunder out of his fireproofs, hitting the floor loudly and pattering on the hardwood loudly,to heighten his shame even more.

"That's exactly what I fucking wanted....you can get up now,finish here if you want, I don't care.... I'll be seeing you again soon." Max whispered into his ear, standing.

And before George could open his eyes,the door was shut.

[spartanguard]

summary: Imagine Killian came over with the first curse. Imagine Belle wasn’t locked away—that she actually had been Lacey that whole time. Imagine if they met. (Imagine if they did whole lot more than that.)

A/N: It’s time for Kaitlyn’s annual self-indulgent birthday fic! It’s not CS—not remotely—but I had a desire to see Killian x Lacey, and realized that I couldn’t do it within canon. So here’s some AU that’s bound to piss people off but I enjoy it so don’t come at me. Hope some of you like it, too!

rated M | 1.3k | AO3

Ian Jones didn’t bother to lock the door of his office as he left it. If anyone really wanted to mess with the harbormaster’s files and ancient PC, they were welcome to it. Besides, this was Storybrooke; he’d be so lucky if something that exciting happened. 

(Besides—the real valuables were hidden...offshore, so to speak. His extracurricular activities were not necessarily above board but the only thing that made his mundane existence bearable. Just don’t tell the new sheriff that.)

Anyways. He left the docks, taking the familiar side streets and alleys that led to the Rabbit Hole. It was a Monday, so it’d be quiet there—well, save for the regulars, like himself. He wasn’t sure exactly when it became tradition to end a shift with a celebratory drink, and some might find flaw with the frequency in which he stopped into the watering hole, but those people thankfully kept their opinions to themselves.

No one spared a glance when he entered the dimly-lit dive, and no one ever did. He slid onto his usual stool at the bar and ordered his usual rum, then settled in for a usual night of drinking and casual, empty conversation.

(He never said his nights here were fulfilling; perhaps they were as banal as his days. But he liked it well enough to not seek out a change. He was familiar with the stir of restlessness, but it wasn’t telling him to do anything—yet.)

He glanced around the half-empty bar; billiards tables took up one side of the large space, where a couple dusty miners were making bets that everyone knew they wouldn’t honor; a couple was attempting to have a private rendezvous in one dark corner, oblivious to the fact that they were actually on full display; and a fight was about to break out at the jukebox over whether they should play Van Halen or Guns N Roses, if his hearing was right.

Actually, that caught his attention; bar fights didn’t happen often but were always entertaining. But more importantly, he’d never before seen this dark-haired lass, who was trying to take on a much-larger man. 

It wasn’t often strangers showed up in town, so anyone new was a break in the monotony. (That included the new sheriff, though he hadn’t had occasion to meet her yet...and he was rather hoping to hold off on that encounter as long as possible given his less-than-legal side hustle.)

And, though this (rather attractive) woman seemed capable of holding her own in a fight, neither party was the most sober and her foe was easily twice her size. Ian was nothing if not a gentleman (when he felt like it), and it’d be bad form to let her lose this battle, as she was sure to do—she wasn’t as steady on her stilettos as she thought she was.

He strode over as casually as he could and told the man to, “Leave the lady alone.” 

The brute was nearly bent over, trying to get into the woman’s face, but rose to his full height at Ian’s arrival. “Or what?” he sneered, then shoved Ian’s shoulder—specifically the left one, the arm of which quite obviously ended in a prosthetic hook.

Ian was well aware of his lack of appendage, and if there was one thing he hated, it was when others tried to use it against him. “Well,” he snarled, but rather than finish his sentence, swung back and clocked the man with his right fist. The asshole fell against the jukebox head-first, then slid to the floor, knocked out cold. 

The bar had gone silent at the scene, but a few moments later, the opening strains of “Runin’ With The Devil” began, and the hum of conversation resumed. One of the guy’s friends came to tend to him, but Ian had already turned around, headed back to his stool to finish his drink (and hopefully get some ice for his aching knuckles).

“Wait,” the lass said, reaching out for his forearm. “You’re just gonna walk away without letting me say thank you?”

He turned around and she was grinning up at him—a wide thing, slightly inebriated, but genuine, and he couldn’t help but return it. He even went so far as to bow slightly, replying “At your service, ma’am.”

Adorably, she snickered at him. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me ‘ma’am’ and meant it,” she joked. “It’s usually ‘miss’ or ‘hey you, stop that’.” He couldn’t exactly place her accent—Australian, maybe? There were a handful of foreign ones floating around town, his own included. But he liked it.

He also liked the way her skin-tight skirt clung to her hips, and the way her black bra was visible through the gauzy blue blouse that brought out the color of her eyes. He might have a chivalrous side, but he could just as easily be a scoundrel.

A fact she’d picked up on, if the smirk he found on her lips after his blatant perusal of her form was anything to go by. But he’d noticed her eyes heading south as well, more than once.

“So, does my handsome hero have a name?” she asked, shifting ever so slightly closer.

“Ian,” he replied; he had a feeling that last names weren’t needed for this encounter. 

“Lacey,” she said back, and offered her hand. He took hers gently and lifted it to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it. An apt name, he thought; it matched her bra. “Can I buy you a drink?” she offered.

“If the lady insists,” he shrugged, and they wordlessly headed to the bar.

One drink quickly became a few, the alcohol loosening their tongues—and their inhibitions. Later on, he could hardly remember what was discussed, and was only surprised to discover that they’d both been in town as long as either could remember and just somehow hadn’t had a chance to meet. A pity, that.

Because she was a divine kisser.

He wasn’t even sure how it had started; they were just suddenly too close—her lips looking far too delectable—and he needed to taste them. They were rum-soaked but sweet, whatever drug-store chapstick she wore getting lost in the shuffle of their lips. 

When their hands began to wander, someone told them they needed to take their activities elsewhere, so they stumbled out into the chill night—but didn’t go much farther than the side of the building. They weren’t the first to engage in traditionally horizontal activities on the vertical brick surface, and likely wouldn’t be the last. 

He pressed her against the edifice, quickly finding her lips again and cupping her pert rear with his hand, settling his hook at her waist. Her hands slipped under his leather jacket to grip his hips, though one eventually drifted up to his chest; her palm felt like fire through the thin cotton of his tshirt. 

She started to wobble—no thanks to her impractical footwear—so he slid his hand down her thigh and pulled her leg around him, letting her feel the evidence of his arousal. She groaned into his mouth and arched her hips against his, making him bite back his own cry of want.

“Can I?” she breathed, one hand on the button of his jeans. 

“Please,” he practically begged. 

She made quick work of the fly, and her own situation was easy to deal with. It wasn’t elegant—one might even call it quick and dirty—but they soon found release then and there, under the flickering streetlight outside the bar. 

As quickly as they’d come undone, they righted themselves—but he was enjoying himself too much to leave it at that.

“Y’know, my place is just a block away,” she said softly, but desire was dripping from the simple statement.

“Lead the way, love,” he replied—and oh, he loved to watch her lead.

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

Months later—after the curse was broken, after Killian had finally met and inevitably fallen head over heels for the blonde sheriff who absolutely upended everything in his life—did he finally realize that his lover-turned-friend (with benefits) was actually in love with his mortal enemy.

Yet another thing he could hold over the Crocodile’s head, he supposed: he knew how to make Belle come.

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

yeah, I stand by that last line.

no idea who to tag but some of you that might like it: @kat2609 @optomisticgirl @thesschesthair @laschatzi @cocohook38 @kmomof4 @word-bug @pirateherokillian @scientificapricot @stubblesandwich @ohmightydevviepuu @shireness-says @phiralovesloki @profdanglaisstuff @initiala @idoltina @thejollyroger-writer @let-it-raines @donteattheappleshook​. Feel free to ignore; I have no idea who is into this.

[dimensionwriter]

My Mad Scientist

I know it's been what feel like a decade since I've released some of my work, but I'm back baby. I plan on updating every until Halloween, so hopefully I can keep that promise. I just got to fight off this writer block that's been beating my butt for months now. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Remember to Comment and Like. Thank You.

Genderless Reader x M! Alien

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Day 243 on Sombrero's Ship

Professor went to Planet Beta to obtain a rare plant that he plans to work with to try out magic. He requested for the shipment of two other plants that he needs from Planet Xeon, but the receivers there are quite slow, so it's unknown of when they will get the message. Professor is getting quiet impatient-

"Of course I'm getting impatient," a voice yelled behind you angrily. You dropped your hands from the keyboard to tilt your head back at the voice. 

"They haven't had any connections," you teased the man. Well, I guess man would be the wrong word. 

The correct term would be a Znemorph from Planet Alpha. He was around 8 feet tall when he slouches, but could get to a height of 10'7 when he put in enough energy to actually stand up straight. His torso was humanish in a way, except his ribs expanded out more causing his waist to appear tiny. 

The skin on his body was kind of leathery with a silver holographic sheen to it. Six pair of arms extended from his torso, all thin and strangely long. The upper and lower arm had 3 thick fingers, whereas the middle arms sprouted four. He said that on his planet it meant that he was going to be something special, but you knew that was just simply him boosting his ego.

"I mean, so what? They got my call within one solar setting last time, but it's been six now," he yelled with his almond shape head twitching. His hair was styled in thick long twists of red that turned white the lower it went. On top of his head seem to be a skull mask, but was actually an evolution their body made for defense. If he feels threatened or angry, the mask cover his face, only allowing his 6 black eyes to be seen. 

"They have had non-stop fire storms that have been burning their receivers. They have to wait for them to stop in order to fix them. Then they will receive your signal," you explained slowly to him. In response, he just slowly blinks at you with a quirked circular eyebrow. "So you will have to wait longer."

A loud groan slipped from his throat as he threw himself back on your bed. The black duvet covered his upper body making his lower body stand out. Instead of normal muscular Znemorph legs, he had a pair of silvery mechanical prosthetics.

When you asked what had happened, he just simply explained that when a machine is in the red danger zone, don't continue to let it run. He also laughs really hard when in an action movie, they jump away from the explosion with their legs up above them. 

"But I want to try out magic right now. For all 509 years I've been alive, I have never gotten a chance to work with magic. And now we're at a part of the universe where it thrives and I can't do anything because their planet is dumb," he mumbled angrily.  His metal legs thrashed around as he threw another mini tantrums. 

He was the oldest creature on this ship, but somehow still manage to act like the youngest. But it was kind of adorable when he gets pouty. His cheekbones flares out in order for him to extend his tongue out of his mouth. 

"How about this? I have a lot of credits left, so I'll buy you some jello," you proposed already standing. A happy squeal came from the Professor's mouth as he tried to jump out of the bed. But in his joyous state, he failed to remember that he was wrapped up in your duvet.

A loud thump then clang followed after his body crashed onto the ground. His legs were first to move as they tried to kick the duvet off. 

"Ugh, this stupid human invention. Why can't-" his sentence was cut off as his mask slammed down over his face. He couldn't speak when the mask on, but you could see by his six eyes that he was getting more angry.

"Calm down, Professor," you sighed slowly. You took giant steps to get around your circular bed to help the Professor. The duvet had caught on a spring in his leg causing him to be stuck. An easy fix. 

"There you go," you sung out pulling the duvet from around the spring. He rolled his eyes and flipped off his back to get onto his two feet. The mask was still on his face and you could tell he was getting annoyed by not being able to talk. "So far, the key ingredient you are missing today is patience. Just be patience and the mask will go back up."

Four eyes closed leaving only the middle one. Lifting his middle left and right arm, he begin to wave them around while switching his hip. He strutted over to the duvet and in the most exaggerated motion, threw it onto the bed.

"You really shouldn't be making fun of someone who is going to be getting you some jello," you grumbled with a raised eyebrow. His four eyes slowly open before they begin to flutter at you. "Now flattery, you really trying everything in the book."

The walk to the canteen was majority you talking to him. You made the mistake of asking him a question and he went to respond but couldn't. This caused him to have another mini tantrum where he tried to shove his mask up. 

"It's going to be on there longer since you got angry again," you sighed out. You picked up the bronze spoon and bounced it on top of the jello. The two jellos sat on top of the table, uneaten, as the cold air conditioning in the room kept them in their natural state.

You didn't want to eat without the Professor. It would be quite rude for you to finish first and then have his mask come up, making him feeling like he should rush while eating. Jello was his favorite food, so he should have plenty of time to enjoy it. 

"I'm scheduled to check on Earth's veggie plants this afternoon," you whispered glancing up at him. He sat up a little and you could see his eyes starting to shine. "It's only for a little bit, so if you are free around that time you can come."

All six hands came up and started to do multiple versions of excitement: clapping, jazz hands, and a few fist pumps. His eyes were closed in happiness as he continued to so his little happy jig. He's so adorable.

A loud popping sound caught both of yours attention. You glanced up to see 6 black eyes and a flat nose. His face had a little more colour in it due to the heat from being under the mask; his cheeks had a small pink hue to it. He couldn't actually blush, since his skin was holographic, but you like to pretend that when a certain colour show up in that area that it's blush.

"Oh my gosh, finally!" he yelled quickly snatching his spoon up. In one sweep move, half of his jello was balancing on his spoon. His jaw dropped a little revealing his mouth.

They were filled with mini sharp teeth that grew blunter the farther back they went in. Two black tongues wiggled around as he tried to control his urge to snatch the jello with him.

The way Znemorph eat were quite different from humans. The can rip the food with their front teeth and use this type of acidic saliva to melt it in their mouth. In order to break it down faster, they usually shoot their tongue out to the food and wrap their tongue around it.

The Professor never said he was embarrassed by it, but it was easy to tell. When he ate in public, he tried to eat in what was deemed as 'appropriate'. But in private, he tends to do it the natural way.

It startled you when you asked him to try the human treat of jello. After a singular spoonful, his tongue shot out to the bowl and brought the entire thing in his mouth. He spent the entire week apologizing and avoiding eating around you. It took you awhile to finally coax him out of that state. 

"If you don't stop analyzing me and eat," Professor scolded narrowing his eyes. You blinked away the reverie and looked down at the food. His was completely gone, even the bowl was wiped clean. 

"How did you know I was analyzing you?" You mumbled embarrassed. You put the spoon in the bowl and brought out a small spoonful. You gently placed it into your mouth and allowed it to melt a little.

"When you are thinking real hard, your eyes gloss over and you sometimes twitch you fingers. You look like you are writing or typing," he explained waving his spoon around to drive home his point. He glanced over at your bowl of jello.

"Well," you drew out digging your spoon into your jello "I am used to taking notes of things I find interesting. So I guess you caught my attention,” you teased him with a small wiggle of your eyebrows. You pushed your spoon towards the Professor and he looked confused for a moment. “Say ah.”

He mimic the sound with his six eyes narrowed in confusion. You put the spoon in his mouth and dropped the jello onto his tongue. All movement in the Professor stopped as you brought the spoon out of his mouth. 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you ‘analyzing’ my jello over there, Professor,” you joked. You put the spoon in the jello and took a small bite out of it. One thing the chef on this ship did was somehow make all food taste a thousand times better than anyone could imagine and somehow created new dishes while at it. Today, they recommend that you try out the new strawberry cheesecake flavored jello. You didn’t think the flavor and texture would mix, but they somehow made it tastes awesome.

A loud high pitched screech startled you causing you to drop you spoon on the table. You snapped your head up to look at the professor blue and pink holographic face. Why was his face so colourful all of a sudden?

The bottom right arm threw itself forward and reached towards the side of your head. Your earpiece was ripped out of your ear causing you to gasp at the cold air hitting your ear. 

“NIGONVNSOIENGRWSJGNiosrnJBNSDIOnO,” the Professor went off while holding the earpiece high above you. His hands were moving around in exaggerated movements as he continued to go off in gibberish.

Well, it wasn’t gibberish, it was just his native tongue. The ear piece he took out of your ear was an automatic translator that helped everyone on the ship understand each other. Everyone was able to talk to each other no matter where they came from or what species they were. So for you, everyone talked in English, but to them it was something totally different. 

“Professor, I know you know that I can’t understand you right now. Give me my translator so I can see why you’re throwing a tantrum," you grumbled sticking your hand out for your ear piece. He glances at your hand with narrowed eyes before hesitantly handing back your earpiece.

"Theraepjohtrs’ore-uxveodbwivbsj." You were trying your hardest to get the earpiece in your ear, but it was kind of hard when you felt rushed. Finally, the dang thing clicked into place and you felt a small electric shock tingle in your ear. "So, if you shall need me, I will be in my office."

The Professor spun dramatically on his prosthetic legs and marched off in the way of the offices. As he stomped away, you sat there confused and baffled at what just happened. 

You fed him some jello, which you thought was normal between the two of you. He always fed you food and you have had your share of throwing popcorn in his mouth. Maybe it was the flavoring that got to him. He's never had the cheesecake flavor, it was number 39 on his list of jello flavors to try. Was he mad at you for ruining his process of jello testing?

"I have no clue what just happened, but I know for a fact that the Professor was flustered." You glanced up to see the Cook walked towards you. They were a quite large purple alien with three arms and a lower body that resembled a horse. You forgot where they came from.

"You had your translator in, can you tell me what happened?" You begged bring your hands together with your puppy dog eyes out. The Cook let out a small coo and poked you cheeks. 

"Humans are so cute," they squealed pinching your cheek. You slapped away their hands to stop them from going overboard. They were like every grandma on Earth combine into one being. "Anyway, he was yelling about being embarrassed by how adorable something looked. And then I think he started to speak some poetry that compared the taste of the jello to his one true love."

You tapped your translator to make sure it was in all the way, because what they just said made no sense. The Professor is single from what he has told you, so who was he yelling about?

"I think he called the jello his one true love. I don't know. I was only half heartedly listening," they grumbled sadly looking down. You gave them a smile of gratitude.

"It was still some good information. Thank you so much," you said smiling gently at them. They couldn't really smile, so they opted for a thumbs up with their three fingers. 

"Oh, don't forget to check your Earth garden today. I have to do mines tomorrow," they reminded snapping their fingers at you. You glanced at the clock on the wall to see that it was later than what you wanted to leave for your garden. 

"Thanks, and good luck with your experiments," you yelled abandoning your jello to run for the transporter. A bunch of other aliens were kind of confused by you running through the ship, but one glance at the clocks and they're faces turned into their version of understatement. 

The thing was that every person on this ship was a scientist in some sort of field. Everyone on the ship got tired of calling eachother Doctor, so you guys just started giving each other nicknames.

Since the Professor was the oldest on the ship and was always going off on a tangent about something, he earned the nickname of the Professor. 

The Cook was an alien who had a hobby for making different dishes from around the galaxies and never wanted to use any of the food teleported in. So most people usually could come to the canteen and find them in the midst of cooking. They even began to take orders. 

"Um, Human," someone whispered tapping your shoulder. You turned around to see the Professor standing next to the transporter. His eyes glanced at you before bouncing back to the transporter. “You going to the Earth garden to tend to it, correct? Good, than I should follow you.”

“What the hell was that in the canteen, Professor? You yank out my ear piece, scream something, and then stomp away. And you expect me to act like nothing happened," you snapped at him pointing an accusing finger at him. He took a startled step back with his arms coming up in defense. A blue tint started to spread up his neck and covered his face. 

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, human. I was startled and I let my emotions get the best of me," he muttered out avoiding your gaze. He reached his top left hand and started pulling at his twists, a nervous habit that he grew into. "I said some stuff that I didn't want you to hear, because it would have ruined our relationship."

You raised an eyebrow at him at the last statement. But the cook said that he was talking about being embarrassed or being in love with...the jello? You've seen the Professor in all types of situations, so him being flustered or embarrassed is something you're use to. So, what did he say exactly?

"Next time, just talk it out with me. I hate that shock the translator give when you put it back in," you grumbled rubbing your ear with the translator. The Professor's eyes soften as you saw his forehead crinkle from regret. "I won't hold it against you this one time. But if you do it again, you will be punished."

A shiver went through him at your little threat. The alien here know about humans and their history, so a few aliens fear you, even though you can barely reach half their height.

The ping from the elevator startled you for a second and broke the weird atmosphere. The doors slide open revealing a circular pad that worked as a teleporter. 

You stepped on it quickly and turned to the front. The Professor went to take a step too before he stopped. He glanced hesistantly at you and back at the pad.

"Come on in," you huffed out rolling your eyes. He let out a small happy squeal ad he jumped into the pad. He seems to be vibrating with excitement at the thought of seeing Earth's vegetation.

Three solar settings has past since that incident, which is close to a week in Earth time. The two of you never brought up the incident and just continued on with your work. It's been pretty normal, well as normal as it can get with the Professor. 

That is until one day in the middle of your sleep, you get a call. The flashing blue lights and annoying ringtone going off instantly put you in a bad mood.

You rolled over and slammed the button to answer the call. Whoever it is better have a dang good reason for calling you at 4 in the morning.

"Human! So, I have good news and bad news." You let out a long groan as you heard his voice. He had to sleep a lot less than you, but he knew how important a good night of sleep was to humans. "Which would you prefer first?"

"Good news," you grumbled rolling over to turn on the light. A soft pale yellow filled the room allowing your eyes to slowly adjust. 

"So, I grew restless waiting for Planet Xeon to stop setting it self on fire, so I decided to work with what I got. And guess what," you didn't even get a chance to breathe before he was talking again," I was able to use some magic. I made a spell and casted it."

Your body tensed up. He used magic by himself, most likely unsupervised by the ship's AI. Please, don't let him have burned down half of the ship.

"And the bad news," you hesitantly asked. You prepared to launch yourself to the nearest transporter to stop whatever damage he may have caused. The Professor may be the wisest thing on this ship, but he's also the dumbest. 

"I somehow casted a truth spell on myself. I thought I could substitute some of the ingredients for this one spell and yeah, it didn't work out."

You sat there for a moment and let all of that sink in. 

"Are you okay? Is your body feeling fine? Is there anything on fire? Are you on fire?" You asked slowly to him. You heard a slight giggle come from him. 

"No, my cute little human, I am in no way in any harm. I think it's absolutely adorable how you worry for me," he hummed out with a small laugh at the end. You blinked slowly for a second before glancing over to make sure it was the Professor calling you. 

"Well, if you're okay then I'm going to go back to bed. You can call me if something goes wrong, but please don't if you just simply want to chatter," you grumbled turning back off the light. You waited for him to say good night, instead you were met with silence. "Professor?"

"Sorry, I'm having an internal turmoil on how I should respond. A part of me wants to wish you a pleasant dream, because you deserve it and you look like an angel when you sleep. But then there's a part of me that wants to lie and say I feel off, so you can come over and we can watch a scary movie together. Then I can pretend to get scared by something and have you wrap your arms around me and I can spend the rest of the night in your hold. I do believe that is my favorite place in the entire your universe, in your arms."

Your mouth hung open as you looked at the communicator in shock. "What?" You yelped in surprise. 

"I would ask if you had your translator out of your ear, but with each passing millisecond, that hope is burning faster than Planet Xenon is right now. So-so, this is very awkward and-and I'm going to hang up," he sputtered. A bunch of crash and bangs came from the other side of the line along with some curses from him. "I'm fine. I'm okay. Nothing's on fire other than my face and dignity! Bye!"

A low tone beep told that he just ended the phone call. In the darkness of your room with cold air nipping at your skin, you sat there more confused than ever in your life. You wondered if he accidently made a hallucinatory drug instead of a truth spell. 

But that was a morning problem you were going to have to deal with.

Day 251 on Sombrero's Ship

Professor has casted a truth spell on himself late yesterday. It seems to have affected him mentally more than physically. The spell makes him speaks what's on his mind rather than answering the truth to the question. Talking to other scientists that have worked with magic before, they believe the exact name of the spell is 'Release the Mind'.

You shut down the tablet and glanced at the door in front of you. The air in the lab section of the ship was always cold and dry. Luckily, the lab coats produced thermal heat to keep your body in top condition.

The small communicator on your arm buzzed for a few seconds before pulling up a holographic message that showed you had 30 minutes before you needed to return to your experiments.

Whelp, here goes nothing.

You placed your hand on a pad next to the door and pushed your fingers into the squishy fabric. The pad glowed a low orange before turning red. Access granted.

The Professor only gave you accessed to his lab because he got tired of having to constantly open the door for you when he wanted to show you something. So, he just put your fingerprints in and now you're able to go through whenever you feel like.

"Oh, I knew I forgot to do something," a voice grumbled. You looked around, but didn't see the Professor anywhere.

"Professor?" You asked scanning the room once. It was a pristine white room that held little colour in it. The white counters in the back held tubes that were slightly bubbling over. A movable silver table was haphazardly turned in the corner with a bunch of books open.

Filled with curiosity, you walked over to the books and took a tiny peak at what pages they were open too. These had to be the references he used for the spell.

'Reversal Spell'

'How to undo a spell for beginner'

'Baking Substitute'

'Human Appearance Spell'

'How to look more huma-'

Before you could get a good look at the last book's page title, it was slammed shut by a silver holographic 3 fingered hand. The hand was quick to snatch the book off the table before 4 other hands snatched up the other ones.

"Really wished you didn't see that and wished you weren't here," Professor gasped, struggling to hold the books in his arms. A book flipped out of his hand and started diving for the floor. But you were use to the Professor's clumsiness, so it was a natural movement to catch the book before it could crash.

"Sorry for being a bother Professor. I'll leave ASAP. Only wanted to check in on you," you said in a mannerly professional voice. It was there to cover up how hurt you were by the Professor saying he didn't want you to be here. He most likely did feel uncomfortable with you, a human, around while he wasn't in top shape.

"Oh, you're sad. I made you sad with my previous statement. I believe you interpreted it incorrectly," he rambled running around the room. His 6 vantablack eyes searched the room feverishly as he seem to be struggling to focus.

"I was not saying that I did not crave your presence, I always do. That's the reason I gave you access so I could discreetly ask for you to be next to me. Just you being near is enough for you to brighten my entire life. And that's not even including that god like beauty of yours. Anyway, I was saying I wish you weren't here because my mouth is like a volcano that constantly erupting stuff out of it and it isn't under my control. I mean, look, in the last 50 seconds and 23 millisecond and counting, I have poured out way too much information that should have been hidden in my mind. On that note,how was your day?"

He spun on his prosthetic and slide on a random paper. Luckily, he was capable of grabbing the metal table with his arm and pull himself back up. The skin on his face became more colourful as he spun away from you.

You tried to express any emotion other than shock, but you were struggling to. You just stared at him with a wide mouth as he moved around the room with his eyes cast down.

The Professor gave out compliments, just not as intense as those. It almost seems like he was-

No, don't even go down that path. He is a professional creature and wouldn't even go towards that area, especially in the workplace.

"Oh-oh-um it was great. Got a chance to work with Chef on some ground samples this morning," you stuttered out trying to remain cool. A wave of heat flooded up your neck as you saw him glance back at you with those black eyes.

"I love the chef, truly do. But I don't appreciate how close they try to get to you. Did you know they tried to make you their assistant when you first got on the ship?" A loud snort escaped his mouth that was followed by cute low pitch giggles. The Professor rarely giggles until something he finds really hilarious. "As if I would allow that to happen. Having six arms really came in handy to fill out all the required paperwork for you."

"Wait a minute, you said having six arms restrict you from doing paperwork because you mix up your arms," you exclaimed pointing an accusatory finger at him. A bluish tint began to form over his skin exposed from his lab coat. He turned around and pretended to busy himself by putting the books up.

"I...don't...recall...that," he spoke extremely slowly. You let out a scoff of disbelief at his obvious lie. That is some bull and he knows it.

"Professor," you growled stomping over to him. He jumped at your tone and you saw fear wash over his face. He ran to the rolling table and held it between the two of you. "Do you know how much paperwork I have done for you in the 251 days I've been under you?"

He flinched at you and covered his face with his upper hands. "I'm sorry. You just look so cute!"

All your anger dissipated for a single second as you thought about it. The Professor thought you were cute. You, a human, deemed cute. It's been so long since someone has called you cute, excluding the Cook.

But then your anger came back in ten folds. "So you gave me extra work because you thought I was cute. How does that make any sense?"

"No, well yes. It made sense to me. When you're working, you have that cute little human tongue poking out or you would drop those cute little eyebrows. Or the way your eyes would look at me when you needed me to confirm something. It didn't help my crush on you, but it made me so happy to spend so much time with you."

Wait a minute.

"Did-did I say the c word?" He stuttered out dropping his grip off the table. A pinkish tint started to take over as his body froze up.

"Yep, you used the c word," you spoke in an airy voice due to your shock. The Professor has a crush on you. The Professor that always threw tantrums in the silliest of ways. The Professor that can go on two hour rants on the randomest of subject. The Professor that is so in love with jello that he almost threw an alien across a ship for touching his jello. That Professor has a crush on you.

"Why won't this mask go down when I need it to?" he hissed gripping the top of his mask and trying to pull it down. The mask seems to be immovable as the Professor pulled the mask with all his strength.

"So, you like me? Like, like like me?" You asked just to be sure. Maybe there was a glitch in the translator and the words weren't getting translated correctly. The english word probably isn't crush, it could be something else.

"Like? In my opinion that words seems to weak for how I feel about you. I would say maybe enraptured or maybe even love. But I know that that word is very serious to your kind and I just dropped it on you right now. Oh boy do I wish this mask could go down right now. I am so scared of the rejection to come.".

"So would you like to go on a date?"

You dropped the question. You did it. My gosh you actually just asked the Professor on a date. When was the last time you asked someone on a date?

What if this is all a prank and you just put yourself out here on the line? All the scientists could kick you off the board saying you were trying to take advantage of the Professor because you thought he wasn't in the right mind. What if the spell the Professor casted was an opposite spell, so he's saying the opposite of what he thinks? He must be disgusted by you. Oh gosh, why did you ask?

"Date? Wait!" He stuttered out as his head twitched for a split second. You felt your face heat up at him repeating the word date. His blue tongue slide out and flickered around as he struggled to say something.

"I mean you don't have to if you don't want to. I was thinking maybe a scary movie or going to the Stargazing deck. I mean, we can also go as friends if you would like," you stumbled out feeling worse as he just stared at you. "You know what, never mind. Guess it was a weird translation and this is so awkward now. I'm going to go."

You spin around quickly and briskly walked towards the exit. You were a fool to think you could be romantic with an alien. They barely saw you as a friend and here you are overstepping their boundaries. Who would want to be with the creature that has a history of being cruel and brutal to their own kind? You just have to accept this lonely life your species has laid for you.

A startled cry along with the scraping of metal on the ground caught your attention. You turned in time to see the Professor running towards you with his arms reaching towards you. One of prosthetics legs' spring caught on his lab coat and didn't come forward in time.

Almost in slow motion you watch as the Professor's face filled with even more panic. Moving around frantically, his arms tried to grab something, but nothing was there. Well, unless you count yourself.

All the air in your lungs was knocked out of you from the impact of hitting the ground and some of the weight of the Professor landing on you, he stopped most of it by sticking his arms out.

"Are you okay?" He yelped using is upper two hands to check your face and body. All of his visible skin was turning into a dark blue with small hues of green appearing. It reminded you of earth, a little.

"I'm fine, Professor. How's your leg? The spring got caught again. You really need to get that fix," you scolded him with a small glare. He has been putting off going to the Torch, the engineer scientist, for a while. His excuse being he didn't feel like having to roll around in a wheelchair.

"Forget about that. I just want to say that I would love nothing more than to go on a date on you. I like you human. No that's not it. I lo-"

You watched as his mask slammed down over his face. This thing really does have the worst timing in the world.

"Calm down," you spoke softly already knowing where this was heading. The Professor pushed himself off you and sat on his knees. All six hands went to the mask and started pulling at it with such vigor that you were worried he would break it. "Professor!"

You sat up then crawled as quickly as you could over to him. You couldn't hold down his arms, so you went for the next best option.

You placed your hands over his. It was almost like you froze him with how still he got. You brushed away his hands and rested your fingers on his cheeks. His eyes begin to soften as he leaned more into your touch.

"I don't want any part of you getting hurt, no matter if you find it annoying. I want every part of you. From your childish ways to your serious dorky self. I want all of it. I want to be with you," you spoke from the heart. This was the first time you made yourself vulnerable in front of the Professor.

His black eyes started to shimmer as tears started building up in his eyes. You couldn't see his lips, but you knew he was smiling by the crinkle in his bottom eyes.

Then a loud beeping noise interrupted the moment between you two. You glanced down at your watch to see that it was time for you to head to your lab to check the experiments. Had 30 minutes really passed so fast?

The Professor's eyes narrowed down at the watch that was still beeping. You clicked it off and glanced back up at him. He widen his eyes extremely and begin fluttering his eyelashes.

"I'm not about to be late to my experiments; it could cause the data to be messed up," you grumbled looking away from those hypnotic eyes. If you keep looking at them, then your resolve would break.

The Professor jumped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist. You fell backwards again, but fell to the ground a lot gentler. The Professor's almond head dug itself into your neck allowing you to feel the coolness from his mask.

Lifting your arm, you ran your fingers around his twist and massaged his scalp. His body seemed to melt into yours at the action. Note for the future, the Professor loves to have his hair massaged.

"I have to go," you whined tapping his shoulder. He tighten his grip and shook his head. Letting out a small sigh, you stopped petting him. "How about this? I'll take the rest of the afternoon off after I check my experiments and we can have a small date in my room. I've received a new shipment of Earth's scary movies that we can watch them I'll even get us some ice cream and popcorn."

He was quick to jump off of you then. He started flickering all of his hands at you with playfully narrowed eyes. "Now you want me to leave."

He stopped the movements for a second to shake his head. Then he started them back up. So he didn't exactly want you to leave. He just wanted you to quickly return.

"Meet you in my room!" You sung out skipping out the door. The AI opened the door for you and you slide out. Before he closed it behind you, you turned around and blew the Professor a kiss. You wished he didn't have the mask on so you could see his face.

"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life," the Professor whispered. You glanced down to see his eyes were still trained on the tv.

This is how it has been for the last 2 hours. When you returned from work, his mask was back up and he has been sputtering out compliments randomly.

You were sure he could feel how flustered you were by your body temperature. Everytime you would get a chance to calm down, he hits you with another line.

"When will this spell wear off?" You asked looking back at the movie screen. The main character managed to get away and decided it was a great idea to hide in the abandoned house. You've watched plenty of these to know where this was going.

"About 3 hours ago," he grumbled snuggling more into you. You froze as you realized what he said. So, it wasn't the spell causing him to say these things. It was just...him.

"Oh," you whispered in shock. He rolled over a bit and looked up at you. His twist flopped over his face and only allowed for half of his face to be viewed. The red from the tv was reflecting off his skin, making him seem as if he was glowing.

"Do you wish for me to stop?" His voice was barely a whisper, but was so deep. A small shiver went through your body from the intensity in his eyes.

"I-i never said I didn't like it," you sputtered out turning away. You ran your hands through the back of his hair and pushed his head back down.

"Good, because I think it's so cute when you get flustered." You rolled your eyes to try to seem like you weren't that flustered. But there he goes calling you cute again. He's being too adorable. "Wait, can you take out your translator for a second?"

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but nonetheless did what he said. You placed it in your left hand and looked at him expectantly. He pulled himself up on his forearms and looked down at you. The skin on his face was turning into that beautiful shade of blue and pink.

"SIvnwofuwbfoqbaivne diwocb sjfiwnxo. I…….love…..zu." The smile that came onto his face as he spoke the phrase made your heart swell so much. The way his eyes shone from the words made you believe them that much more.

"I love you too," you spoke gleefully. You leaned up and pressed your foreheads together. Feeling his cool skin embrace your warmth was a sensation that made you feel like you were on cloud 9. And knowing that this feeling will always be here because you will be able to be with him.

How did you get this lucky?

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I feel rusty at this. It's been so long since I've uploaded and I forgot how trash Tumblr is. But anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed. Please leave a comment, I love reading every single one fo them. They truly do make my day. And don't forget to like, this shows me that you like this type of content. Thank you guys for taking your time out of your day to read this. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day. ❤❤

[twisted-nox-sidus]

(I'm bad with clear skies. I want to hide my ugliness from the light. But things lurk in the shadows cast by that light... And I'm a little interested in finding out more about them.) - Strix, narrating.

Based off nighttime and an owl, so she's not necessarily "twisted" from anything/anyone. She's actually designed around an otome MC struggling with the concept of love (because why not).

(Note: This post is super long since I put a lot of depth into this OC. There’s a lot of angst surrounding her than what’s given at face value. I even left out some details that are considered a surprise that reveals more about Strix. Some bits of her profile are rather messy and all over the place. I hope you guys love her as much as I do!)

Name: Strix Noctowl

Real Name: Secret

Nickname(s): Transfer Student, Problem Child, Newbie, etc.

Age: 16

DOB: 3/3 (Pisces)

Gender: Female

Height: 5'4.5" (164 cm)

Likes: Fluffy things, birds (particularly owls), music boxes

Dislikes: Gossip, thunder, her eyes

Hobbies: Reading, singing, piano playing

Race: Human

Affiliation: Night Raven College

Year: First

Relative(s): Unnamed mother (deceased), unnamed father (defected), unnamed grandparents, Sidney (great-grandfather)

Dorm: Unallied

Personality

A down-to-earth but curious young lady who never runs short of her sharp-tongue. She goes by Strix Noctowl in order to separately identify herself as the girl known specifically in Twisted Wonderland. Strix tends to be pessimistic and talk about pop cultural references no one in Twisted Wonderland would understand but nonetheless is determined to return home. She is more of a nocturnal person.

She is known to be “disobedient” and rebellious by the NRC. Many students admire her for her fearless, outspoken character but also keep at a distance to avoid getting roped in potential punishments with her.

Strix is not a virtuous person and can play petty if the situation compels her. She can be violent and won't hesitate to resort to a little punch to get her point across. Questions how most of the cast don't know the meaning "no" on a daily basis.

Underneath her shell, Strix is a touch-starved, naive, and utterly vulnerable girl. The absence of her parents led her to believe she is not loved and relies on her dear grandfather for almost anything she has trouble with. She is also shy about asking to fulfill her selfish desires and sometimes hides it too well that it becomes painfully evident to others.

Strix has a child-like impulse to touch things that pique her curiosity, such as trying to touch Leona's ears or Malleus' horns. The Savanaclaw dormitory is a prime victim of her "harassments".

Strix has a bad habit of falling asleep on a constant basis to the point she can sleep with her eyes open and stay still from what she was doing (ig. holding a stack of papers). This also happens arbitrarily at random places and time, such as sleeping mid-conversation. It's an impressive feat, as remarked by many of the guys. The habit was stemmed from the inner part of Strix that likes to dream (despite being a realist) and being a sound sleeper. She says this is the only time she can truly escape the cruel reality. It's a technique Strix may or may not be proud of.

About

Strix is a rare case at Night Raven College. Initially it appeared she had no powers whatsoever and was not remarkable in magic classes. Pretty disastrous, actually. She received a lot of hostility from the students who believe she doesn't deserve to be a worthy student at the prestigious magic academy, the very field she sucks at. Soon, Strix awakens her powers (explained in Abilities section) and works to control it while attending the college.

Due to Strix's insistence, she identifies herself as an "unallied" student and is taking residence at the run-down dormitory. She had complained a lot about each and every dorm and considers the NRC dorm a better place to reside in. She didn't really mind being the sole student in the rundown dorm since she was accustomed to solitude. She won't spend much time other than sleeping there anyways.

In order to repay Crowley's generosity and protection, she volunteered to work as his aid, such as helping clean up and sorting the books and documents piling up his workload. In addition, Strix works part-time across each of the seven dorms to earn herself money instead of relying on Crowley all the time. This also helps keep her busy and familiarize herself with the dorms and its students (since she has to cooperate with the uncooperative chaotic student body). (FYI, her payment is based on her performance which will be reported by the dorm leaders to determine the wage.)

Abilities

Strix has the ability to summon colorful, quirky, and adorable Dream Eater Spirits (please think of the Kingdom Hearts series because that's exactly what they will look like. I’m not capable of creating them myself so please use them as reference) that obey her heed. She surprisingly has good control of her magic (probably because she’s a dreamer and is adept with her dream magic as a result) and works on honing her abilities so she doesn't subconsciously summon the fun yet pesky creatures and start a zoo attraction. If a colorful creature is running rampant on campus, you know who is responsible for it. A common Dream Eater Spirit she summons is a curious owl dubbed Peepsta Hoo (shown below).

History

Strix was raised by her great grandfather Sidney since she was a child, whom she trusts and loves the most in her family. Sidney is a half-blind antique shop owner; a man who was born on the very day and year Disney was founded (10/16/1923). He practically grew up with Disney and shares his love with his descendants including Strix, who also adores the magic of Disney as a result. He is at least 96 years old, yet still somehow has spunk to him.

Strix's mother died from childbirth. Her father couldn't handle the sight of Strix who was slowly looking more like his dead wife every day and abandoned her to start a new life with another woman, essentially cutting ties with Strix when she was only five years old. In an outburst he said he hated Strix's eyes that were said to be devoid of light and emotion ever since she was an infant before leaving the house with luggage in hand. Strix dislikes her birthday since that marked the day her mother died and never encourages her own birthday parties or gifts.

Strix grew up resenting her eyes that were seen as a curse. Her grandparents even agreed with her former father that her mother gave birth to a "heartless, cursed monster". It was said that for the first five years Strix was born into the world, she barely expressed emotion outside of a blank slate, though Strix herself claims to not remember that. Her grandparents on her mother's side still resented her for her mother's death while the grandparents on her father's side don't want to have anything to do with her. Only Sidney was willing to raise her.

Strix is touch-starved due to the absence of her parents. As a child she had wished for them to pat her head, hug her, and hold their hands; the simple intimate things expected for family to do. She never knew her mother, and her father was aloof towards her and even treated her like the Plague by avoiding contact with her. What she had wished was for their affection, or rather the affection of a mother and/or father (which will be fulfilled by everyone’s bird dad Crowley in the future).

The only one who could meet her demands was Sidney who happily gives her attention and affection. He was the only one she could confide to and seek help.

Strix grew up believing she only needed to depend on the love of her great grandfather. She was extremely timid and nervous as a child who didn't understand how to befriend kids her age and harbored jealousy towards them who lived with happy families. This jealousy is what primarily made her keep a distance from them. As a result, she didn't make any friends, and never had up to when she was warped to Twisted Wonderland.

Strix once had a crush on a boy (dubbed "Caelum" for narrative purposes) who smiled brightly like the sun and filled her with warm giddiness. However, that was when she was six years old and the boy in high school, practically a decade year gap between them. It was more of adoration than romantic attraction, but she never met anyone else who was as nice and warm as him other than Sidney.

Caelum was her neighbor who babysat her whenever Sidney had to run errands. He played with her and spoiled her with her needs; they were like brother and sister. It was until he had graduated and moved away to dorm in a faraway college that they never saw each other again until seven years when a letter of invitation was sent for his wedding.

Strix's emotions conflicted over how she should express her romantic feelings among the platonic ones up to the day of his wedding. She froze up and fled out of fear before she could answer him. The moon was blue yet cold that night, and she discovered something like a mirror in the garden pond. She was suddenly shoved from behind and fell into the mirror. This leads to the current situation and the start of a twisted fairytale where happy endings are not as they seem.

Trivia

- Strix is a name used in various mythologies to refer to creatures who bring forth misfortune. They usually appear in the form of birds, mainly owls. "Strix" is also a genus of owls in the typical owl family (Strigidae).

- Noct in Noctowl means "night". Yes the owl is snuck in there, go figure.

- Strix's birthday falls on "I Want You to Be Happy", also known as Girl's Day.

- Strix once took care of a baby snowy owl as a child but had to say her farewell when it was released into the wild. Ever since, she likes to learn more about the beautiful feathered creatures.

- Strix's preferred type of person is someone who would wholeheartedly accept her touch-starved needs. Of course, she would do the same vice versa.

- Strix's most treasured item is the wristwatch that also plays like a music box. She never goes out without it. She also carries a gold heart lock (the one seen in her default outfit) on her out of impulse and never bothered to understand why. She says she feels safe bringing it with her.

- Strix has 2.0 eyesight. She can pinpoint a person from far away and recognize them.

- If you rub Strix's head in a particular way by running your fingers from behind her ears and massaging her scalp, she'll fall asleep. Apparently it calms her nerves and loosens the tension built up. She melts like goo on the spot and subconsciously clings to the person, purring in contentment like a completely different person (like an affectionate house cat). It's effective for silencing her, having her sleep, or just fluster her altogether. The first in the NRC to discover this embarrassing weak spot was...? That's a story for another time, though.

- Strix learned to play the piano for ten years since she was six years old, the same time when she first met Caelum. Caelum was the one who got her into the piano after expressing his love for the instrument and classical music. Initially Strix played to earn recognition from him, but over time, especially after he left, she grew fond of the piano (also because the sound works similarly to a music box) and honed her expertise in the field. She won piano competitions up to now and has a goal of becoming a pianist in her career. Her piano skills are highly praised by her peers and sought after by Azul, but even then she feels insecure. Ever since the wedding, her hands freeze up and hover over the keys as she automatically recalls the daunting memory of Caelum and her bittersweet emotions. The crowd's peer pressure wasn't helping either. (And yes, she can play the piano while asleep. What a pro.)

- Strix's love for Disney makes her prone to humming and singing to songs including but not limited to Disney as she works (of course when she knows she's alone). Sometimes she can get carried away with her singing and wind up lost in her own world as she does and would take a while to notice another presence in the room. When she gets caught, she dies on the inside and gets extremely embarrassed to the point of acting tough with a tomato red face. Apparently she is terrible at being self-aware of her surroundings when she gets into it. Then again, this is the same girl who falls asleep in the middle of corridors without realizing she was asleep.

- On that note, her singing voice is actually really nice, almost trained like a pro. Azul officially never lets her out of his sights now that she has full potential to be a full-time staff at Mostro Lounge. Her singing and piano skills are much needed at Mostro Lounge, however Strix would only willingly do the latter. She would die before singing in public. That's a big no no.

- Strix is said to have back (and neck) problems. Probably from the arbitrary times she sleeps in uncomfortable positions, or simply the stress from Night Raven College and the students' antics overall. Someone once touched her shoulder and mistook her for a statue. It's surprising how her appearance hides the stress and drowsiness well. She looks nothing like your average sluggish person.

- Strix likes antagonistic characters in storytelling. She tends to like the villains more than the main characters because she admires the good, the bad, and the ugly of their characters unbound by the laws that prevent them from their free spirits. They're flawed, but she finds relief in knowing they are not completely black like many would depict.

- Strix had a fear of brooms as a child after she watched Fantasia. She grew out of it soon, but even to this day she still looks back on the rather horrific scene with a pale face while holding the broom during flight class, much to Ashton’s confusion.

[atinytokki]

Paradise

i. Growing Up 

San remembered the mainland. He would play with the other village children and watch his father teach martial arts and attend school like he was told. It was a busier and louder place than the island he lived on now. 

San never expected to come home to the cottage swarming with doctors and their stinky medicines. The day he did was the beginning of the snowballing changes that defined every day since.

From the look of things, San had no choice but to assume someone had died. One of his classmates had come home to a similar scene a few years ago and told him the next day that it had been his grandmother, and the chaos was caused by funeral arrangers and distant family members looking to auction off her things.

San was only seven, but he knew what death was. He had buried the dead birds that flew into his bedroom window and he knew they weren’t coming back. People did the same thing, sometimes just as unexpectedly.

He swallowed down a thousand worrisome thoughts and entered the house. There weren’t strangers rifling through their silver but a mysterious tray of metal instruments and a couple of nurses waiting next to it.

San was small and sneaky enough to escape their notice and slip past them while they focused on their work, into his noona’s room where he finally got his answers.

“San? What are you doing here?” 

His father spotted him and went to scoop the little boy up, but not before he saw what would be engrained into his mind.

His half-sister Haneul in bed, sweating and pale as the sheet she lay on, coughing into a bloody handkerchief with eyes glazed over and deathly hollow. 

He shook with fear from the sight and let his father console him where they sat in the garden until he could muster the courage to ask what was going on.

Haneul had contracted a contagious disease. San couldn’t properly pronounce the name of it but he knew it was one that reared its ugly head in crowded towns such as his and that for his own safety, he wouldn’t be allowed near her.

At first San was jealous. All his noona had to do was cough some blood into a handkerchief and suddenly there was no schoolwork for her.

Then, he was bored. His favourite playmate wasn’t allowed to leave her room even if she wanted to, and San wasn’t allowed to go in under any circumstances.

Next he became nervous. Because this wasn’t the average winter sniffles, it was months of feverish nights and painful coughing that San could hear from the other room, and it kept him up with the worry that the medicine wasn’t working.

Like most children, San knew more than anyone gave him credit for about the declining state of household affairs. He was quite shrewd for a seven year old and he knew that something was wrong by the way the lady who cleaned their clothes stopped coming to work. And the lady who watered their plants. And the lady who cooked their meals.

Soon it was just the three of them, and it still wasn’t enough. Haneul’s health continued to decline and now their father was spending extra long hours away, making money to afford the doctors.

San didn’t like the doctors. It was always one after the next, they never paid any attention to him, and they charged for everything. Services, bloodletting, medicines— everything. One of them even had the audacity to return to their front door to beg for funding for a research trip in the west long after they’d dismissed him.

By the time San turned nine, he was angry.

Birthdays had passed with little more than a pat on the head, Father never cooked any of his favourite foods anymore, and he still wasn’t allowed to visit Haneul.

So he tried acting out. 

It began with stomping on the flowers in the garden. He waited three days after the deed had been done and then ran back outside to try to salvage them when the damage wasn’t noticed because he felt bad. San liked looking at the flowers and he really didn’t mean to hurt them.

His father never noticed the smushed petals and droopy stems, so San tried to give him something he would notice.

He had always been a bright student, and he liked his teachers even when he didn’t like the work they gave him, but to see if his father would pay him any attention at all, he decided to skip school.

San roped a few of his loyal friends into it and they spent the day in the woods, sword fighting with sticks, throwing rocks at the tree branches, and jumping into the river. 

He returned home to a clueless father, and the headmaster caned him for it the next day. San walked home in a slump after a day of scowling at his textbooks and waited around for his father to arrive.

Sneaking into the hallway, he cracked open the door to Haneul’s room. She lay there gently breathing, more peaceful than he had last seen her. He softly closed the door to let her sleep. None of this was her fault. San knew that much.

His father returned from work with a tasty pie gifted by one of his more charitable clients and sat down at the table with his son for the first time in months.

“I want to discuss something with you, San.”

San ducked his head to hide the blush that spread across his cheeks when he realised he was probably about to get the scolding of a lifetime for yesterday’s stunt.

“Your sister’s health has improved.”

Father always called her his sister, even though she was his half-sister.

San lifted his head slowly. So that’s what this was about. He had noticed that they hadn’t switched doctors in the past few weeks and it seemed that it was a good thing after all.

Perhaps this meant he would get to play with her again. Perhaps this meant more time as a family...

“She’s overcome the worst of it, I’m very glad to say. But the disease has left her very, very weak.”

The pain in his eyes and the choking force with which he delivered the news sent a shaky swallow down San’s throat. “What does that mean?” He whispered, lowering his fork and forgetting the pie.

“It means she won’t ever fully recover. You and I, we can join society and find our professions and places in life. But Haneul... Haneul will always be confined to her bed.”

“So...” San felt horribly selfish for thinking of himself first. “Does that mean I don’t get to play with her at all?”

His father smiled a watery smile and shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not, San.”

Silence fell for a moment and San tried to keep the food down. He had considered the possibility, like he had considered every possibility, but he didn’t think it would be so world-altering when it hit home.

“The doctor thinks her health will improve even more if she gets constant fresh air.”

San knew what that meant— not in the city. “Will it improve enough for her to get out of bed? If she tries really, really hard?” His eyes shone up at his father’s as long as he could hold them open, begging for a favourable answer. 

“It just might San. It just might.”

It was decided that Haneul would move to the island that their grandparents lived on. San wanted to stay and finish school, learn a trade, maybe follow in his father’s footsteps, but it quickly became clear that it was not to be.

San had been spending time with Haneul, as much time as possible to make up for the lost years of her sickness, and she had grown quite attached to him. 

“She wants you to go with her.”

San looked up in confusion from where he had been digging in the garden. Worms to show Haneul, because even though she squealed and hid her face behind a pillow, she was secretly fascinated by them.

“Why?”

His father sighed and ran a hand through his hair before occupying the bench next to the vegetables.

“She... she just does. She’s afraid of travelling on her own, she’s afraid of grandfather and grandmother not knowing what to do if she gets sick again, she’s afraid of living the rest of her life without you...”

He cut himself off, as if realising belatedly that he had said too much. Too much for a nine year old, anyway. San released the worms and watched them wiggle back down into the soil, waiting for his father to speak again.

“Your sister is just a bit nervous about the big change. And I think I’d like you to go with her.”

Father couldn’t say no to his weak, sickly daughter. If she asked him for the kingdom he would give it to her.

San threw a fit that day, stomping for a second time on the flowers he had just been tending to, and sobbing into his pillow when his father ordered him to his room.

He didn’t want to move away with his half-sister. He wanted to stay here with his friends and his treehouse in the woods and his (regrettably smushed) garden. Even if he didn’t learn martial arts like his father.

There had to be some way to stop this from happening, or slow it down at the very least.

So for the third time, San acted out.

He ran to the woods alone as soon as school let out, scaled a tree to a height he deemed good enough, and he jumped. A broken leg would put a wrench in Father’s plans.

Haneul cried and cried when he came limping back with a soiled face and a bloody leg. Together they cried, San mostly at his own selfishness until their father came home.

He washed and wrapped the sorry limb and sent San to rest in bed, but not before the boy saw him bent over his desk, writing to his grandparents by candlelight. It would have to be a few weeks more until the move.

The operation was a success. San bit back the pain and forced himself to go to sleep, resolving to take this secret with him to the grave.

It only hit him the next morning when he awoke grumpy and sore from a restless night that he had essentially grounded himself.

How was he supposed to spend his last days with his friends in the woods when he couldn’t even walk to the garden?

After much begging, his father consented to inviting San’s little group for a gathering in his bedroom. His friends brought him some baked goods and a small box of his favourite rocks, broken pottery bits, and feathers from their little forest glade. But they abided by the rules and didn’t play any roughhousing games.

San learned a lot that day. From the stories his friends told him and the combined force of their imaginations to the seriousness of the injury he had inflicted on himself to Haneul’s very real affection for and attachment to him.

Part of San had felt like something severed between them, when she became ill and closed off from the world. She had left him out in the cold to fend for himself and if there was one thing San hated above everything it was being left all alone.

He put his own desires aside and accepted his fate that evening, when he had hugged all his friends goodbye and promised to write, and his father had carried him into Haneul’s room to let them talk before bed.

“I’m glad you’re coming with me,” she whispered as she carded her fingers through his hair. “There’s a new life for us on Namhae.”

He nodded against her side where he lay still and sober. The decision had been made for him, and no amount of screaming and pleading would change that decision.

“Does it hurt?” She asked him. “A bit,” he sighed in response, looking at his splinted leg regretfully. “All the ice numbed it quite well.”

“I’m glad,” she mumbled, fighting the pull of sleep. San marvelled at the fact that having been in as much pain as she had, Haneul could pity the broken leg of her very foolish younger half-brother.

It shamed him into silence for the rest of the night as he was carried back to his own bed. 

For the seven weeks he had bought himself, San behaved. He completed the schoolwork brought to him, he didn’t trouble his father for extra pie, and he didn’t stomp on any more flowers.

As soon as he was permitted, he moved outside to soak up his afternoons in the garden. On his final day, he watered the lopsided blooms and left the watering can on his father’s desk. He didn’t know if his grandparents had a garden, but he hoped there were at least a few trees to climb.

The boat that took him and Haneul to Namhae was only medium sized when he thought back to it, but to nine year old San it was a floating mountain.

It was the first of many things to be a source of wonder for him, a broadening of his little world and a promise of adventure to come. As he wheeled Haneul onto the deck, he turned and looked back once at the mainland. He would remember it as a bustling, crowded place that he tried so hard not to leave.

In hindsight, it was probably the best decision of his life.

...

A/N: (Yes, coming soon really meant coming today). Welcome to Paradise! This is the backstory spinoff for San from the Treasure Series, so be sure to check that out first if you haven't (although who am I to tell you what to do). I'll update according to the cycle as regularly as I can, so please comment if you'd like to see more and hmu on twt @/tiny_tokki to stay in touch! Thanks for reading <3

Summary | Masterlist | Next  →

[seouledbysisi]

Ambitious Dreams

Chapter Thirteen

Nova nearly fell out of her bed from the banging on her front door. She had been sound asleep. She tended to do that more often now since she was pregnant. This baby was sucking the energy right out of her on a daily basis. She was ready for it to be over. She checked her phone and had five missed calls from Nori. She hurriedly ran to the door cause she figured it had to be her. When she swung the door open she was absolutely correct. Nori was standing in the doorway. “Did you really have to nearly give me a heart attack?!”

Nori pushes her aside and welcomed herself in. “Have you seen any of my messages? Or are you hiding in here because you have seen all of them?”

Nova raised an eyebrow. “What the hell are you on about?”

Nori pulled her phone out and shoved it in Nova’s view. “Somehow someone has leaked that Ash has a baby on the way and they know it’s by you!”

“Who would do that though? Oh my Gosh! He really wanted to release it himself. He’s going to be pissed!” Nova scratched her head and dialed him up. As it rang she prayed that his reaction wouldn’t be terribly bad.

“Hello?” He answered gruffly.

Nova knew then that he was pissed. “So you seen it?”

“Hell yeah! Who the fuck released that info? No one knows but all of us! Like this doesn’t make any fucking sense and now I gotta figure out how to do some damage control. Can I call you back?”

Nova sighed. “Are we all still meeting for lunch? Or you’re not in the mood to be around us?”

Ash took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’m pushing my frustrations on you. Yeah just meet me at the restaurant.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later. Don’t let this stress you out. They were going to find out one way or another.” Nova tried to make things better.

“Yeah I know. I’ll see you in a little bit.” He hung up quickly.

She could tell that he was shutting her out a little bit.

Nori gave her a small smile. “He didn’t take it well?”

Nova shook her head. “No and he’s probably gonna have a funky attitude at lunch and I’m really not trying to deal with all of that.”

“He’s just disappointed that he couldn’t tell his fans himself. He’ll be okay.”

Nori and Nova pulled up to the restaurant. They decided to meet at a Korean Barbecue restaurant.

When they got to the table Elle, Hash, Changmo, Ash, Marz and Hyoeun were all there already.

Nova knew Ash was pissed so she slid in the seat next to Elle instead.

Ash raised an eyebrow. “Don’t treat me like the unloved stepchild, get your ass over here!” He pointed to the empty seat next to him.

Nova chuckled but obliged nonetheless. “What are we gonna do? I’m already getting message on Instagram about the baby.”

Ash shrugged. “We confirm. The Quiett says that’s the only thing we can do.”

“Who would do something like this though?” Elle asked.

Suddenly a familiar face walked by their table.

Nova tended up a bit. It was becoming way too much Deja Vu happening. She knew that lady. Why had she been running into her so much lately.

“Jinyoung? Is that you?!” The lady stopped and spoke to Ash.

Ash looked up and immediately regretted that they had chose this place to dine at. “Seems that way. How have things been?”

“You don’t seem happy to see me.” She poked her bottom lip out. “That hurts but I’ll look over it. So I guess congratulations are in order?”

Ash gave her a quick smile. “For?”

“Don’t act stupid. I can see her belly plus it’s all over social media. Someone let your secret out the bag.” The lady spoke.

Nova hit Ash’s leg.

“I’m sorry, this is my girlfriend Nova. And just because you read it, doesn’t make it true. It’s not true until it comes from me!” Ash was irritated.

The woman smiled eerily. “Well glad I dodged a bullet. See ya!” She walked off.

Nova was pissed. “That’s the woman I see legitimately everywhere. You know her?!”

“She’s his ex.” Changmo blurted out.

Nova got choked up on her water. “The one who broke your heart?”

Ash gulped. “You could say that.”

“Now I know she’s been stalking me.” Nova revealed.

Elle nodded. “We even saw her at one of my appointments but like how could she know every move you make?”

“I don’t know but it’s too much of a coincidence!” Nova groaned. “She probably released that I was pregnant!”

“How would she even know?” Ash intervened.

“Because she’s been stalking her, duh!” Nori was frustrated.

Ash chuckled. “She’s a bitch but she’s not crazy like that.”

“Tread lightly before you try and take up for her. I know she’s been following me to places. Is that not weird to you?” Nova rolled her eyes.

Ash pulled her into his chest. “I know, I know I know! I’m not taking up for her. It’s just how would she know that we’re involved?”

“Maybe I’m not the only one she’s been keeping up with.” Nova said under her breath. “I don’t feel safe.”

Ash squeezed her closer. “No one is going to hurt you. As long as I’m around you’ll be fine!”

“And I’m ready to throw hands for you at any moment! You can’t fight right now but I can!” Nori threw her two cents in.

Nova chuckled. “I’m glad I have y’all!”

Elle smiled. “I’ll be right back.” She got up to go to the restroom.

Nori locked eyes with Nova and cleared her throat.

“Oh yeah, Hash I have a bone to pick with you!” Nova started.

“Actually we both do. What’s up with you and Elle?” Nori finished.

His eyes widened. “Huh?”

“Don’t huh us! What is up with you and Elle?” Nova blatantly spoke.

“DO YOU LIKE HER?” Nori spoke as if he couldn’t comprehend.

Hash began to cough. “We’ve been hanging out.”

“But do you like her?” Nori asked again.

Hash chuckled. “Where is this coming from?”

“Answer the question! Don’t play with her. If you like her then say that. She’s really soft hearted and she’s starting to get the idea that you’re friend zoning her.” Nova rolled her eyes.

“How are you rushing me when it took you how many months to give Ash a chance?” Hash asked.

Ash eyed him. “Bro, can we not relive that?!”

“I’m just saying!” Hash replied with a laugh.

“That was totally different circumstances though. Elle and you have no issues.” Nova states with a tone laced with a whole lot of attitude.

Hash shrugged. “Maybe I’m shy.”

“Well get un-shy before she moves on to the next!” Nori told him and slapped his arm.

“I got this under control, okay?” He told them and continued to eat.

Nori rolled her eyes. “Sure ya do.”

After lunch they all went their separate ways.

Ash & Nova

He grabbed her hand as they walked around a store similar to Walmart. “Guess what I did!”

Nova looked over at him. “Is it going to piss me off?”

“Probably but I don’t care.”

She dropped his hand and slapped his shoulder. “Well that was rude.”

He snatched her hand back. “I ordered a crib. It’s white. I figured that would work for a boy or a girl. Even though it’s going to be a boy for sure.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. That’s really sweet of you though.”

“I just figured we should start somewhere so why not a place for baby Island to sleep.” He smiled as he grabbed a few groceries for he and the boys house. “So after you have it are you going to your house?”

“Probably.” She stated plainly. She hadn’t really thought about it but she needed to make some arrangement because she didn’t have too much longer.

“Oh okay. Would you want me to stay with you for a couple of weeks?” He became a bit shy. “You know to help you with the baby?”

“If you want. I know you’ll still have a full schedule of activities.”

“I’ll never be too busy to be a father. Okay?”

She nodded.

Elle and Hash

They were walking near the Han River. Suddenly Hash stopped walking. “Why would you think I’m friend zoning you?”

Elle paused and shut her eyes. “What? I didn’t-“

“Yes you did. Why do you think that? I’m not mad just wondering.”

She sighed. “Because I look at how Ash treats Nova and it just doesn’t compare. Even Hyoeun who doesn’t show much emotion at all makes it obvious that he’s very into Nori.” She shrugged.

Hash breathed in deeply. “I’m not used to having a girlfriend. I normally just hang out with females and you know-“

“I don’t need you to paint a picture.”

“I just wanted to explain why I’m like this. I feel like I’d be awkward in a relationship. It’s not that I don’t want one with you it’s just I don’t know how to transition from whatever this is to that.”

Elle shrugged. “With effort. I’m making it okay for you to kiss me, touch me. Spend the night if you want. I’m giving you the green light.”

“But there’s more to a relationship than just that-“

“Yes! There is, just be emotional support for me. Show me that you care. I don’t expect you to be perfect, I just want effort.” She smiled.

He smiled back. “I’m down for trying.” He pulled her into a hug.

They were about the same height so she could look right into his face. “That’s all I need.”

He leaned in and pecked her lips. “Was that okay?”

She nodded. “More of that!”

He kissed her again.

Nori and Hyoeun

They pulled up to his house. He deadened the engine but didn’t get out.

She looked over at him and could tell that something was off. He didn’t smile much anyway but he was different with her. “What is it?” She asked.

He sighed. “I’ve been avoiding this conversation until I had made my mind up...”

She closed her eyes. “You’re breaking up with me?”

He grabbed her hands and squeezed it. “God no! After what I say next though you probably will break up with me.”

Her heart rose into her throat. “The suspense is killing me! Spit it out!”

“I’m enlisting in a few months-“

[weepylucifer]

Let’s Go in the Garden - Ch. 6

Thomas comforts. Peter listens. David steals his boyfriend’s car.

Halfway through the night, I was woken by a scream.

It had me sitting up straight in bed, disoriented, heart beating a little too fast, thinking at first that I’d dreamt the noise, whatever it had been... then someone screamed again, somewhere within the Folly.

I had my slippers on and was out the door within two seconds of the second scream.

As I cast a werelight and let it float an inch above my palm, I proceeded, slowly and carefully, down the empty hallway. I was grateful for the warm, steady, non-horror-movie-esque glow that my werelight provided, otherwise this would have been creepy. Of course, the part of my mind that wasn’t just primed on observing wondered who had screamed and why. Someone needed my help somewhere out here and I didn’t know anything further about the situation, but so help me I was going to be there.

Then, beyond one of the many closed doors in this hallway, I heard something. A rustle, a... whimper? I paused.

The door was nothing to me. Just another disused bedroom, like many on this floor. I turned the handle. It wasn’t locked.

The air in the room smelled like Molly had freshly cleaned here, readying it for its new-old inhabitant. In my werelight’s glow, I saw a shape in the bed against the far wall, writhing, flailing, making these little whimpers. I took a step inside.

“No,” said a voice in my back.

I full-body flinched. I’m not proud of this buy I almost shrieked when a hand fell onto my shoulder. I spun around.

“I know how to handle this,” Nightingale said. He was still fully dressed, his suit rumpled like he’d slept in it. His face was milk-pale in the darkness, and he smelled of booze.

“If you’re sure, sir?” I whispered. For a moment, as he passed me by in the doorway, we were very close. I held my breath as he breathed a cloud of alcohol onto my face.

“I am. Go back to bed, Peter.”

But I stayed standing where I was and watched as Nightingale knelt by the bed, plunged a hand into the multiple thick blankets piled onto there and muttered something I couldn’t quite catch. The flailing, writhing, blanketed shape quieted for a moment, and Mellenby’s curly head shot up from his nest. He was panting, gasping, shaking and clutching the blankets to him.

“It’s...” he gasped. “I’m...”

“You’re home,” Nightingale murmured. “It’s over now.”

Mellenby grabbed onto his hand like a lifeline. “I was back at... that place.”

Nightingale nodded, this wasn’t surprising or new to him. “Ettersberg. Yes. I dream of it too.”

Mellenby shuddered. “You do? Even all these years later?”

“Yes,” Nightingale said grimly, “Even all these years later.”

“So this never... never goes away? It never stops?”

“It hasn’t for me, not substantially.” Absentmindedly, it seemed, Nightingale wiped a bead of sweat off Mellenby’s brow with his thumb. “I wish I could tell you something more encouraging.”

“It was so cold,” Mellenby whispered. “I’m just... so cold.”

“Mmh. We’ll get you warm.” Nightingale sat down on the bed and rearranged them so that he could pull David into his arms. This accomplished, he looked back up at me.

“Still here, are you?” he asked me quietly.

Sorry, I mouthed and got away, not wanting to intrude any further.

I got a glass of water in the kitchen and went back up to my bedroom. On the way past Mellenby’s room, I peered once more, just for a second, through the cracked door. I could see the two of them nestled in bed like kids at a sleepover, I could hear their whispered words, too low for me to make out.

----

We didn’t talk about any of that at breakfast. Nightingale sat with his coffee and his crossword as usual, and if he hid a few yawns behind his hand, no one mentioned it. Molly served food. David had availed himself of Nightingale’s phone and was now tinkering with it with the fervor and enthusiasm of the true neophile. Periodically he would ask a question like “What does this button do?” and Nightingale would glance over and say something to the effect of “I don’t know, I never use that one.”

After a few such exchanges, Mellenby put the phone down with a put-upon expression. “Really, Thomas,” he said, “I can’t believe you have this... this wondrous gadget of near-infinite uses at your convenience and never ever figured out how to fully utilize it.”

Nightingale pointedly rustled his newspaper. “I will utilize it when and if it becomes necessary. Otherwise I don’t see a reason to waste time on it.”

Mellenby sighed. “But I have so many questions!”

“Look, why don’t you have Peter show you,” Nightingale suggested and went back to the newspaper, skimming the headlines and muttering something about “god-damned Cameron”.

“Why do you read the Torygraph, anyway?” I asked.

“Crossword’s stellar, unfortunately,” Nightingale said and gave me a get-on-with-it hand gesture. I went out in the hallway to phone Bev first and foremost, and when I had made sure she didn’t need anything from me right this second (she told me to stop fussing but, hey, she was pregnant) it seemed like my morning would be devoted to explaining cellphones to David Mellenby.

I ended up taking him into town and out of Nightingale’s hair. His opposition to us hanging out at all seemed to have subsided a bit, maybe he’d stopped suspecting that we’d conspire to do science behind his back. Or perhaps he just secretly wanted to have a lie-down with his hangover. One of these two.

“I want modern clothing,” Mellenby proclaimed to my surprise. “All of my things look like... well, like they’ve been mouldering in a wardrobe for eighty years, give or take. And I would love to avail myself of an... intelligent phone.”

“A smartphone?” I had to grin. “You’re going to need money for that.” I wondered if he had money, and what had happened to it after his “death”. Had Nightingale taken care of it? Had anyone? Had David had family?

The question became void when Mellenby said, “Thomas gave me, um, this,” and held up the Folly’s credit card. God and Nightingale and possibly but not definitely the commissioner only knew how much was on that. “He told me to just take whatever I need.”

I couldn’t help myself, I let out a wolf-whistle. “The man does love you.”

Mellenby ducked his head, a shy smile spreading involuntarily on his face. “I should hope so.”

I expected he wanted to head on over to Savile Row and get himself a wardrobe of bespoke suits true to the Nightingale way. It turned out what David Mellenby wanted was to dress precisely like everyone else on the street. He seemed drawn to comfy jumpers, cardigans and slacks and seemed to consider dumb novelty t-shirts that said things like “Don’t trust atoms - they make everything up” the height of wit and comedy.

We also got him a phone. He badgered an employee into explaining everything to him, but his friendly and unbridled enthusiasm made it near-impossible to be annoyed by him. I filmed the exchange on my own phone and sent it to Nightingale captioned “Let your bf loose in the electronics store”.

“Bf?” Nightingale texted back. “Ah. ‘Boyfriend’. Indeed. God help us all.”

As morning morphed into noon, I got us coffee just to see how Mellenby people-watched. It amused me in a weird way how he kept making googly eyes at the stores, streets, cars and people around us. He seemed to be taking the whole eighty-years-later thing remarkably well - scratch that, he seemed to be taking to it with a verve that surprised me. Probably because I was used to Nightingale, who tended to keep the modern world at arm’s length (that is, until he didn’t). At times, Mellenby simply looked astonished, or like he was wanting to ask questions but didn’t know how to best go about it. At other times I watched him smile like a kid in a candy store. I wasn’t going to ask, but then Mellenby ordered a giant unicorn-glitter-frappuccino-concoction because he saw it advertised on a billboard and “it piqued his curiosity”. Nightingale, when forced to enter a coffee shop at all, usually ordered a no-nonsense black coffee accompanied by that testy old-person-face of someone with opinions about and personally offended by the Starbucks menu.

I guess I just couldn’t help constantly comparing the two of them.

“Are you... alright with all this?” I asked him, feeling a bit hesitant to lance that boil, but curiosity winning out.

“I’m... yes, alright, I think.” He smiled at me. “This drink is... interesting.”

“Sure,” I said and waited for him to volunteer more information.

“To be honest, sometimes it all feels like a dream,” Mellenby produced. “Like a journey down the rabbit hole. I keep expecting someone to pinch me, and it’ll still be 1945. Of course things are... different, and strange to me. London has changed considerably. But then again, last I saw it, half of it was in ruins. Now there’s all these exciting new buildings, and different cars, and there are so many... well...” He looked at me and started visibly floundering, and I began to suspect what came next. “There are people on the... street who are... that is to say, there’s many...”

I decided to do the charitable thing and release him from his struggle. “Got a bit more colourful since the 40s, huh?”

Mellenby, too, coloured - as pink as his unicorn drink. “I don’t wish to offend. I... Thomas was the one who always got around within the... colonies, I rarely...”

“There’s no more empire,” I threw out, just to see how he’d react. Hugh Oswald had described him as very concerned with the fading British Empire, while Nightingale had claimed him uninterested, and I was wondering which one it was and whether I could still like him as a person after this.

“Oh boy!” Mellenby exclaimed. “That’s a big change.” And that seemed to be it.

“So you’re really just... adjusting alright.” It seemed almost too easy.

Mellenby shrugged. “I suppose so. There was... not much left for me to miss in 1945, that probably helps. And a part of me sees this as a chance, you know? Under normal circumstances I might never have experienced this new, enlightened era as I am now doing. Ah well, it keeps me from thinking about the war.”

I nodded knowingly. Distraction. Well, that sure was one explanation.

“I’m just glad I don’t get overstimulated, like I saw some of the lads do, immediately after our return from... that place. Just the nightmares, and that... unfortunate episode just yesterday. I, um... did apologize for that, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Parts of that moment were a bit of a blur, to be honest. He’d tried to attack, I’d snapped to defense, Nightingale had rushed in, then I’d told Mellenby about gay rights. All’s well that ends well. “No one got hurt, so... it’s fine.” After some thought process had gone into that, I added, “You’re going to want to get help for that, though.”

Mellenby made a face. “Help.”

“Therapy’s good now. I do it. They don’t just tell you to get up and show some backbone anymore, it really helps.” I looked at his wrists. He’d put on a silver-grey cardigan to cover the inhibitor cuffs, even with the warm weather out. “These cuffs can’t be a permanent solution.”

“No indeed.” He picked at them beneath his sleeves. “Most of my work relies on me using my magic in the lab. I cannot continue on like this. I get why Thomas sees the need, but I wish there were another way.”

“There is.” For a moment, I felt the impulse to pat his shoulder. I contained it. “Get better.”

Mellenby sighed. “Get better... easier said than done. You know, what with so much time having passed, for Thomas, in relation to me, I would have assumed I’d find him... having gotten better. But apparently... not.”

Oh, no. He wanted to talk about Nightingale.

I wasn’t about to snitch on my boss to his significant other, so I said, “He gets on alright.” Personally, I’d been happy to believe that, but then I’d started having... doubts. Lately.

Mellenby fiddled with the lid of his plastic cup, glowering down upon it like it had done him a personal injustice. “Does it truly just stay like this? Has he not found anything in all these years that helps?”

I shrugged. I don’t think Nightingale has ever gone anywhere near a therapist, and I’d much rather stick my foot in a bear trap than suggest it to him. “As coping goes, I guess he’s the expert. I mean, he did build that memorial wall.”

Mellenby cocked his head at me. “Thomas built a what now?”

----

“It’s a bit of a drive,” I said. “And I’ve only done it once. And the roads may be different than what you’ll remember.” We were exiting the coffee shop, proceeding down the road with the great, purposeful steps of people planning an endeavor. Really, that plan was still stuck in its earliest stage: We want to get somewhere, how do we pull it off?

“I’m sure between the two of us we’ll manage to find Casterbrook,” Mellenby said. “Have you got a car?”

“Yeah, but it’s at Bev’s house.” When Mellenby gave me a blank look, I explained, “Beverley Brook. My girlfriend.”

“Ah.” He nodded. Mentally, he seemed to cross me off a list. (Or was I imagining that?) I gave him three seconds... two... one...

“Like the river?” he asked.

I smiled. I couldn’t help it. My face just does this thing nowadays when Bev is discussed. “Yeah, like the river.”

“The Beverley Brook didn’t have a deity in my day.”

“A lot is different. What I’m getting at is my car’s halfway across town.”

“How long has your girlfriend been around? If you don’t mind me asking. Do you think she might talk to me?”

“I don’t know. Let’s cross the rivers when we get to them. About the car though.” Was this what dealing with me was like? All the questions and digressions? How had Nightingale not imploded under the strain of there being two of us?

“Yes, yes. Well, why don’t we just nip on back to the Folly and take Thomas’s Jaguar?” Mellenby suggested.

“The Jag?” I frowned. “I don’t know. He gets... territorial about it. And he is my boss.”

“Not mine,” Mellenby said.

I thought back on how livid Nightingale had been with David, that deep-seated rage I’d never seen in him before. And below that, other, even deeper shit lurked. “You’re not even a bit scared of him?”

“Hah!” He actually genuinely laughed. “Before he was my Captain, he had already been my boyfriend for a good long while. I’ve seen Thomas with his a--” He cleared his throat. “I’ve seen Thomas in just an array of posit- of situations. I’m not intimidated by him.”

----

He left a text.

Thomas, it ran, took the Jag. Will bring it back, presumably, by dinner. I love you. This, by the way, is David on the cellular phone.

What with the frequency with which Nightingale looked at his phone, or rather the lack thereof, he probably wouldn’t see the text until we were already back. Which explained why he didn’t immediately call both of us demanding to know where on earth we were taking his car. Still, he’d probably flip when he noticed the Jag was gone.

Between the two of us and Google Maps (Mellenby oohed and aahed accordingly) we did manage to find Casterbrook. The building looked about as I remembered it, perhaps a bit more overgrown.

“Oh, it’s desolate!” Mellenby exclaimed, looking at it with a facial expression bordering on horror. To me, it seemed fine - well, not fine, it really was kind of dreary, but it hadn’t been left to decay. Clearly, Nightingale still invested in the school’s upkeep. Then again, to someone who had known the place well-trimmed and teeming with activity, ‘desolate’ was probably accurate.

We walked across the grounds, the way Nightingale had shown me back then that led to the secret side-entrance. Mellenby was apparently reminiscing.

“Over there were the cricket and rugby fields,” he said, pointing. “That... is where I first laid eyes on Thomas.”

“Hallowed ground,” I said with a tired smile.

“I... suppose.” He lowered his head, but wasn’t deterred for long. “He was... well, in retrospect he was fifteen. But to me then, it seemed impossible that anyone should be so graceful. I had no idea why I was feeling so deeply about it. Oh my, the front door seems to be locked. And me without my magic. Do you know a lock-breaking spell?”

“Won’t need one. Nightingale showed me how to get into the night gate.”

“Ah, the night gate.” Mellenby beamed. “I remember when Thomas first asked me to meet there and go to the pub with him and his friends. No one had asked me before, and I was so nervous. I thought probably it was going to be a one-time occasion, a token of gratitude, perhaps, for my tutoring him, and that surely Thomas Nightingale wouldn’t want little old me along with all his big popular friends. It turned out he genuinely just- oh, I am boring you.”

“Eh, not boring me.” I definitely filed ‘big popular friends’ away for further examination. Bit of a jock, my guv’nor, apparently.

“But you don’t actually want to hear these stories, do you?” Mellenby lowered his head, and it was like kicking a puppy. He probably hadn’t ever talked to anyone about this, what with the subject matter being very illegal at the time. Now that he could, though, the stories seemed to just be pouring out of him, like he couldn’t help himself, like he was desperate to share them all as soon as humanly possible. I wondered what it had been like for him, having this relationship that had been so very meaningful to him, and not ever being able to mention it. I wondered how on earth he hadn’t exploded with it.

“No, no, I do,” I said. “It’s just... he is my boss and all.”

I let us inside through the notorious night gate. It had been a while since I’d been shown the spell for the door, and Mellenby remembered it but couldn’t cast, but we managed together. It was as dark in there as I remembered it being, and I cast a werelight to light the way. Mellenby cooed when he saw it.

“It’s fascinating,” he said, “your budding signare. I never thought I’d see the day Thomas took an apprentice.”

I didn’t quite know what to say to that. But before I could even think of an answer, Mellenby was off again touching the walls and sighing at the many and varied vestigia within the old building. “It’s all so present and yet so far away,” he said. “They never ever reopened the school?”

“Who would’ve done it? Who’s they? There’s only Nightingale.”

Mellenby started to say something - and snapped his mouth shut. After a few moments in which we just walked silently, he asked, “Then why do we even still own the building?”

‘We’, in this case, I assumed meant the Folly.

Sentiment, would have been my first answer. Nightingale simply hadn’t borne the thought of selling his old school very well, and had felt overwhelmed to be in charge of a decision of such magnitude. He’d told me as much. So he had simply avoided thinking at all about it, keeping the whole thing at arm’s length again - a common tactic, I was beginning to notice, with Nightingale.

“Need somewhere to keep the memorial, I guess,” was what I said.

And then it was before us, the memorial. I let my werelight grow larger, brighter, and sent it up towards the ceiling where it illuminated the near-endless rows of names, just like I’d done the first time I’d been here.

Mellenby’s mouth fell open as he spun around himself and stared up at those hundreds upon hundreds of names, stretching all the way up to the vaulted ceiling, all painstakingly carved into the wood paneling in that familiar, slightly blocky font.

“Who all contributed to this?” Mellenby asked.

I was going to fit the realization that there had been only Nightingale left active in his head somehow. Eventually. Or so I hoped. “Nightingale all by himself,” I answered. “He told me there was no one else, and someone had to do it, or something.”

“Oh, Thomas,” David whispered. “Oh, Thomas.”

I kept quiet.

Mellenby spread his palm, to make a werelight alongside mine, I realized, and then when nothing happened put his hand down.

“There are some good friends over here,” he said, pointing at a particular spot within the rows of names. There was a strain to his voice, and I feared he might cry again. “Horace Greenway, here, we were in the Latin tutoring club together. Roy Fitzgerald, my first apprentice. Didn’t make it out of Ettersberg. There’s Edward Cobb. He considered himself an empiricist, too. We had the most outrageous debates. Ballantine the third all the way over here, one of Thomas’s best friends, I never quite got on with him. There’s Pascal from the chess team, we had that funny nickname for him... and over here we have... oh... me.”

I did a double-take. But of course, Nightingale would have included David on here along with everybody else. Another casualty of Ettersberg, although indirectly.

“He... he put me with my best friends,” Mellenby said, his voice now wavering. “And my apprentices. He knew... knew I’d want to be with them.”

“You had apprentices?” I tried, desperate to derail him from his oncoming crying fit.

“I had five apprentices,” Mellenby said, to my surprise. “I wanted at least double that. But, well, the war. Only one of them made it all the way through, but he dropped off the map practically as soon as the glider hit the ground. Oh, maybe Thomas will know what happened to him.”

I remembered Nightingale’s track record regarding other practitioners running around post-war, and had to stop myself from making a face. “I doubt it.”

“Geoffrey was his name. Geoffrey Wheatcroft. Is that... anything to you?”

I felt a chill.

Geoffrey Wheatcroft had, of course, infamously gone on to found the Little Crocodiles.

If I recalled correctly, Nightingale had reacted with mild confusion when we had happened upon his name at last in our search for the Faceless Man. I shook my head. How he hadn’t gone completely spare was beyond me.

“You better talk to Nightingale about that,” I said.

Mellenby huffed and crossed his arms, like something about that statement upset him, but he didn’t say anything. Maybe it was just my tone of voice. I’d probably sounded a bit foreboding. Well, I couldn’t have helped myself.

And then, with the dark and silent walls surrounding us, with the hundreds of carved names bearing witness, I asked him the only thing I could think to ask, “What was he like during the war?”

Mellenby gave me a long and strange look. He wasn’t always, this I had already learned, an expert in reading the room, but right now I knew he knew that I hadn’t asked about Wheatcroft. Then his eyes drifted off of me, to all the names on the wall, and from thence into a vague middle distance. Perhaps he was wondering what the men commemorated here would want him to say.

“Thomas was reckless,” he said.

I blinked.

That was not what I had expected.

He seemed to catch on to my astonishment, because he exhaled a long gust of a sigh and then deigned to elaborate.

“Thomas was a good CO,” he said, “Thomas lived for his men. His loyalty was to the lads under his command foremost. The brass, the objective, the enemy, the value of his own life, stipulations, orders... morals... Thomas lost sight of a lot when it came to ensuring the safety of as many of the men as possible. He got reckless, and from a certain angle it would look the same as getting ruthless. He would charge into situations...”

Mellenby was getting choked up again. He wrapped his arms around himself and stared at the ground, his lids fluttering, he was obviously struggling to contain himself. I could do no more than stand by.

“He was strong, I have to give that to him. He was a keen strategist. Most of the time, he judged his odds accurately. And he did win us some ground, you know. That’s why he was allowed to proceed with little more than a slap on the wrist. In combat, he would periodically forego orders, abandon his position... cross battlefields all by himself at full tilt with his shield up, firing at the Krauts like a maniac, just to get the men out faster. It worked, was the thing. Doesn’t mean I didn’t die a thousand deaths in fear for him whenever he decided to do this.”

“Shit,” I said. There was little else to say. I was trying to imagine the Nightingale I knew doing anything “like a maniac”, to imagine him without his ever-present composure. A bit of that had worn off recently with David’s return but it was still a long shot towards what he was describing.

“And he was valuable, as a Captain, as a practitioner, as a symbol. That’s why command let him alone. He never was disciplined in any meaningful way... never court-martialed... and neither was I, come to think of it. I suppose command found me valuable also, or Thomas was shielding me in some way. Some things were certainly kept off the record, some things I assume command never heard of.”

“Now hold on.” This was beginning to sound less than savory. “Court-martialed?”

“Oh yes.” Mellenby made a bitter little sound. Maybe it was supposed to be a laugh, I honestly couldn’t tell. “In the later years of the war, Thomas was flirting with a court-martial near-constantly. Going in, there was an attempt to do things by the book as much as was possible. But being in the field, it wears something down, you know, within you. Things started to fall by the wayside that we would never have thought ourselves capable of abandoning. Just... lord, the bloody fascists. That god-forsaken scum.”

He clenched his fists. The sudden anger was jarring to me - I’d seen him annoyed by now, or unnerved, but never truly furious. Now I first realized, really realized with all my brain that he was a veteran.

‘Veteran’... I’d taken it to mean ‘person who needs care’. And of course it still meant that. But it also very much meant ‘retired soldier’, with all that concept entailed. Here was a man who had made his living in slaughter.

“They made us worse people, and that I cannot forgive. I heard Thomas say once that they had waived their humanity when they elected Hitler. And he was right, he was right! Lord, did I hate the Germans. Do hate them. Then Ettersberg...” He grit his teeth. His voice quieted, dulled again. “Ettersberg vindicated us. Showed us what exactly it was we’d been fighting. But, it also confronted us with our own shortcomings. Showed us that we were complicit. That I... was complicit.”

He was beginning to tremble now, first his hands, then his whole body. “And my research started it all in the first place... my theories... I...”

Yeah, I had to get him out of here, or at least out of his head. I called back my werelight and, very carefully, touched his arm and led him out of the room, back into the light.

“Hey, listen,” I said as we walked, “I’ve changed my mind. Why don’t you tell me the story of how you met Nightingale after all...”

----

We walked back to the car in a somber mood. Of course you could never really feel chipper coming back from such a place. I tried to imagine Nightingale creating the memorial, just him and his carving tools in that vast, dark, empty room by himself. From what he’d told me, it had always seemed like he’d done this first thing after leaving the hospital. It was the kind of mental picture that could drive anyone to depression.

Mellenby, too, was not a happy camper. He looked pale, drawn, he wasn’t trembling anymore, but I could see that not having a total breakdown just now had taken a lot out of him. He dropped heavily into the Jag’s passenger seat, all but collapsing into it.

“Aw, man,” I said. “Maybe we shouldn’t have come here.”

“No,” David disagreed. “It was right for me to see this.”

“Still, Nightingale will have our heads for taking off with the Jag.” I was trying for some levity, but on the other hand, the reaction Nightingale might have to our impromptu Jag theft genuinely worried me.

Mellenby shook his head, as if wanting to dislodge the cobwebs of his almost-breakdown. “Let me deal with Thomas,” he said tiredly. “Why do you always call him that, anyway?”

What was he talking about now? “Call him what?”

“Nightingale.”

“It’s his name?”

“No, I know Thomas. He would’ve offered you first-name-basis three days into your apprenticeship.”

He was spot-on in fact. It probably hadn’t been three actual days after I’d started working for him that Nightingale had suggested I call him Thomas, but it was somewhere around that mark. It hadn’t panned out, and he hadn’t offered again since.

“He did offer,” I said, “but I didn’t take him up on it. It felt too weird. I mean, he’s... he’s Nightingale, and he is my boss. We’re not... friends.”

Mellenby laughed tiredly, sweeping a hand across his eyes. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were sleeping with him.”

----

We were back on the road on our way back to London when he picked up the thread of that conversation again.

“It’s probably just because I’ve known him for so long, but it’s strange to think on Thomas commanding that kind of respect. It seems so... unlike him to be so distant.”

I felt it appropriate to ask about the war again.

“That was different,” Mellenby said. “It’s poison for troop morale, having a combat leader who is too distant. It’s been a tightrope walk, certainly, for Thomas, because you can’t be overfamiliar with your men as the CO, but... comport yourself too aloofly in the field and the men may never connect with you. Company cohesion, the men’s emotional and psychological needs, those all fell under Thomas’s purview. He was mother and father to the youngest recruits out there. Besides, we experienced so much alongside each other, it made us stick together like glue.”

I for one couldn’t imagine a Nightingale who was anything but emotionally distant and removed from the world around him. Like he’d spent all his caring in the war, I thought, just used it all up and now there was almost none left. I was certain that he cared for Molly, and reasonably convinced that he, in a way, also cared about me, as far as our professional relationship was concerned, and he tried, he did. I remembered a short while ago, when I’d gotten myself suspended after the whole Chorley fiasco, and Nightingale had given me the nudge that had led to me seeking out therapy. He cared in these short bursts, triggered by external events, like a long-derelict bulb giving out random flickers of light, interspersed by long darknesses.

What a glum mental image that was.

“I sort of assumed he was like this back then,” I told Mellenby. “What with the whole... you know... ‘the Nightingale’...”

Suddenly, Mellenby smacked his hand down onto the headboard in front of him. His face darkened rapidly, and he fixed the road before us with a grim scowl. “The Nightingale? People still call him that?”

Again, not the reaction I had been expecting. “Yeah?” I said. “Pretty much all the demi-monde calls him that. I heard from Hugh Oswald that it started as a war thing, though--”

“You spoke to Hugh about this?” Mellenby asked.

“I went and saw him a while ago.”

“Well, I don’t know what Hugh told you. But the Nightingale is a miserable conceit, and it has brought nothing but pain and trouble unto Thomas. I dearly wish--”

I never found out what Mellenby dearly wished, because in that moment, my phone rang. I gestured at him to pick it up.

“It says on this here display that someone named Guleed is calling.”

Oh. If Guleed was calling me, that either meant karaoke night was being rescheduled again, or something serious was up. “Oh, yeah, um, can you take that? It’s PC Guleed, she’s from murder.”

Mellenby made googly eyes. “Women work in the police now?”

“Look, can you just take the call?”

To his credit, he immediately swiped to accept the call and held the phone up to my face as I drove. We were starting to make quite the little team.

“Hey,” Guleed said when I announced my presence to her. “Where are you at?”

Well, this didn’t sound like it was going to be about karaoke night at all.

“We’re, that is, I’m a little ways out of town. Just driving back.”

“Well, drive back faster, because we’ve got a body and we’re thinking it’s probably one of yours.”

[phoenix-downer]

The Keyblade Graveyard Part 1: Japanese and English Comparison

This is the fifth in a series of translation and analysis posts I’ve done about KH3. I’ll be talking about KH3 in the context of Westerns, briefly touch on a possible connection to jidaigeki, go into detail on camera angles and camera shots, and, of course, discuss translation and the social aspects of language.

I’ve broken up this analysis into multiple parts because it was getting so long. This part will cover Aqua and Ven’s interactions with Terranort, the next will cover when he attacks Lea and Kairi, and so on and so forth up through when the Demon Tide sweeps Sora away. 

Here’s a general key for the kind of analysis I like to do:

JP: Official Japanese Dialogue

EN: Official English Dialogue

TR: My Translation (usually more literal and thus more stilted than the official English version. I’m not using natural-sounding English in order to stick as close to the Japanese versions of the lines as possible for the purpose of analysis)

Notes: things I found interesting, grammatical points, extra thoughts, etc.

One last note: media doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Every work of art must be viewed through the cultural lens of the people who made it. Kingdom Hearts, for all its ties to Disney, is still very much a Japanese game, so it should be analyzed in light of that.

With that in mind, let’s continue.

Terra’s introduction is like a cowboy in a Western with the dramatic smoke:

The cinematography of this whole scene strikes me as inspired by Westerns and/or Samurai cinema (chanbara, a subcategory of jidaigeki, or period films). The two genres of film have had a large influence on each other (Akira Kurosawa’s classic Seven Samurai was remade as The Magnificent Seven in the US, for example, and Akira Kurosawa was a fan of the American director John Ford), so this speculation might not be that far off.

This screenshot from the trailer for Seven Samurai, for example, shows a similar “dramatic smoke/dust” moment, which makes me think that this may be a trope in Samurai cinema as well:

The setting of the Keyblade Graveyard itself calls to mind the setting of a lot of Westerns, with its smoke and dust and craggy hills and desert. The conflict even takes place in a graveyard, much like the final standoff in The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, one of the most famous Westerns of all time (technically a Spaghetti Western, or a Western made in Italy - in this case directed by Italian director Sergio Leone):

Anyway, continuing on. Terra is here, but he’s looking at the ground and not making eye contact with anyone:

Ven is the first to notice him, and he calls his name...

JP テラ！

EN Terra!

TR Terra!

...before taking off after to him, which stresses Aqua out (and rightfully so - can you blame her for being on edge about everyone’s safety here, especially Ven’s?):

JP ヴェン！

EN Ven!

TR Ven!

We get this wide shot of Ven running to Terra while he just sort of stands there:

There are a number of shots like this in the scene that really emphasize the scale of the conflict by showing how small the human players are compared to the setting.

This ties in well to the theme that the characters cannot change their fate - they’re just playthings of it. The Keyblade Graveyard will still be there long after they’re dead, much like how it is still here after all the people who fought in the Keyblade War died. And while Sora does later change fate, he has to face the consequences. Death claims its prize in the end.

Ven latches onto Terra’s wrist, and the camera focuses on their hands:

And then we get this over the shoulder shot that is also at a bit of a high angle to emphasize Ven’s vulnerability:

JP テラやっと会えた！

EN Terra! We found you!

TR Terra! We could meet at last!

Notes: The Japanese phrasing is a little different than the English version, but the same general meaning gets across. Ven is excited to see Terra again. His use of yatto implies it’s been a while, and he uses the potential form for meet, hence why I translated this as “could meet” despite how awkward it sounds in English.

We get this reverse over the shoulder shot from a lower angle to emphasize Terra’s greater size and strength compared to Ven:

Now, Aqua has Seen Things™ in the Realm of Darkness, and she is quick to ask if this is really the Terra they know and love. No doubt she has in mind the time they met in the Realm of Darkness and Xehanort took control of him:

JP テラ　本当にテラなの？

EN Terra, please say you’re in there.

TR Terra, is that really you? (Literally: Is [that] really Terra?)

Notes: Japanese tends to use names more than English does, whereas English favors the use of pronouns, hence why Aqua repeats Terra’s name twice in her question in the Japanese version.

She uses the ~nano construction to check for confirmation - she wants to believe this is Terra, but she has her doubts.

We get this extreme close up shot of Terra’s eyes to emphasize that while yes, they are blue, they seem a little empty and soulless:

Something I noticed about Kingdom Hearts 3 is that there are a lot of extreme close up shots like this, especially of the characters’ eyes.

Well, as I was doing some research for this analysis, it turns out this type of shot is also sometimes called an Italian shot, named for... you guessed it, Sergio Leone, who popularized it in his Spaghetti Western films.

Here’s an example of this type of shot from The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly:

The emphasis of this type of shot is on the character’s emotions, and it serves to heighten the dramatic tension of the scene. Multiple times throughout the Keyblade Graveyard, we’ll get extreme close up shots like this that have just such an effect.

On a side note, I never noticed this many extreme close up shots in a Kingdom Hearts game before. I wonder if they hired new cutscene director(s) to work on the game who left their unique mark on it, or if the graphics capabilities of UE4 allowed them to experiment around with the cinematography more than they could in the past.

Continuing on, we see Aqua’s reaction to Terra’s soulless gaze:

She immediately moves to put herself between Ven and Terra, selfless to the end:

Ven sounds downright annoyed in the Japanese version and confused/questioning in the English version, but Aqua doesn’t care, she’s keeping him safe. Note how tense Sora is in the background:

JP 何だよアクア！

EN What gives, Aqua?

TR What(’s going on), Aqua?

Notes: Ven uses the emphatic particle yo in the Japanese version to show his annoyance with Aqua here - they’re finally all together again and yet she’s pushing him away from Terra? What gives?

The camera changes to this wide shot, once again emphasizing the epic scale of this very human conflict:

JP あなたの中にテラはいない

EN I know that you’re not him.

TR Terra isn’t inside of you.

Notes: Aqua knows the problem. Terra, or perhaps more specifically, Terra’s heart, is not inside of the body before them now. Aqua sounds angry and frustrated in her delivery in the Japanese version. She’s sick of this happening, sick of Terra still being lost to them.

Ven gasps in this next shot to indicate his surprise:

And Aqua sounds very angry/upset in the Japanese version as she commands Xehanort to release Terra. The camera angle is low again to show how Terra is towering over them, to hint at the power imbalance that we will soon see play out:

JP テラの体を返しなさい！

EN Now, let our friend go!

TR Return Terra’s body (to him)!

Notes: When Aqua was addressing Terra earlier, she used casual/intimate grammar forms. Japanese has an entire system of conjugation based on social dynamics - there are polite and casual forms of verbs, there are honorifics, humble expressions, rude expressions... all to express the relationship between the speaker and the addressee.

Aqua switches to a more polite form here. This could be because she wants to indicate social distance from Xehanort. It certainly isn’t used to be polite. This isn’t her friend; this is the man who ruined her friends’ lives as well as her own. She commands him to return Terra’s body using the honorific form nasai in a way that sounds like she’s scolding him. It’s possible she also chooses to use this particular command form as a mark of feminine speech, instead of using one of the coarser/more direct command forms at her disposal.

The camera tilts up, still at that low angle to emphasize Terra’s relative size and height advantage, and he (well, more like the heart inside of him) smirks:

We see his hair change color in a close up shot:

And then Ven’s horrified reaction. After all, he never knew what happened to Terra (as far as I can remember). The shot here really emphasizes his emotions by centering him in the frame head-on:

Fate of the Unknown has begun to play, very fitting for this scene, as Terra’s fate smacks Ven in the face (and the audience as well, for that matter). Note how everyone is ready for a fight, even if their Keyblades aren’t out yet. Knees bent, arms outstretched, or, in Goofy’s case, balled into fists:

Then we get this close up shot of Terranort’s face. His hair is fully silver and his eyes are yellow, and Mickey proclaims what has become of Terra:

JP これで１３人目ー

EN He is their thirteenth.

TR Here is (the) thirteenthー

Notes: Basically saying the same thing in both languages, just worded sligthly differently to sound more natural in English.

Dark smoke wafts off of Terranort as he finally speaks, and it’s not with Terra’s voice:

JP おまえたちはここで敗北する

EN Today is the day you all lose.

TR Here you all (will) lose.

Notes: Terranort uses the derogatory second person plural pronoun omaetachi to refer to them here. He also uses a casual form of the verb suru, indicating familiarity or, in this case, contempt. The word for “lose,” haiboku, can also mean “be defeated.”

Aqua sounds downright angry here in the Japanese version as she responds, and Ven just looks sad. The camera angle is a little off-kilter here (note how Aqua and Ven seem the same height even though they are not, and the characters in the background form a diagonal line): to indicate how “off” this whole situation is (I think this would be an example of a Dutch angle, but in case it’s not, I’ll call this kind of angle a tilted angle throughout this analysis):

JP 何を！

EN What?!

TR What!

Notes: I noticed the dialogue uses a lot of exclamation marks throughout this scene, both in the English version and the Japanese version. Emotions are running high, and all those exclamation marks really serve to show that.

Here we get a shot of Ven’s feet and Aqua’s legs...

...which is reminiscent of images and posters of famous show-downs in movies, like this one for the 1952 Western High Noon:

We even see this same sort of shot earlier in this scene, this time with Sora’s legs and Xehanort as the approaching opponent:

Once again, the framing of the shots calls to mind Westerns.

Moving on to the dialogue:

JP １３の闇にたどりつくこともなく　この場で心は肉体を離れ我が身を散らす

EN Before you even face the thirteen, every last one of you will be torn heart from body.

TR Without even reaching the thirteen darknesses, at this place (your) hearts will be separated from (your) bodies (and) I (will) scatter them (literally the bodies).

Notes: Terranort uses a different pronoun than Terra does. He uses ware, which Xehanort sometimes uses (and also sounds kind of old-fashioned), instead of the masculine pronoun ore, which is Terra’s pronoun of choice.

In the Japanese version, two different words are used for “body” here as well, nikutai in the first instance and mi in the second instance, perhaps for poetic effect and/or to avoid redundancy.

Next, he summons his weapon, which is accompanied by more darkness, and delivers this line:

JP だが安心しろ

EN But fear not.

TR But be at peace.

Notes: “Fear not” sounds a little archaic in English, as in modern English we would say “don’t be scared” or “don’t be afraid.” Over time main verbs lost the ability to move in front of negatives in English, and we insert “do” instead, which attaches to “not” to form “don’t,” while leaving the main verb in its spot.  

Terranort’s use of an older construction in English like this is very effective at making him sound pompous. In modern English saying “fear not” brings up religious connotations, as a lot of well-known quotes from the Bible are based on older translations (hello, King James version) and thus older forms of the language. Terranort sounds like he’s playing at God, here, in other words. It also makes him sound older, which is fitting for an old man who stole the body of a young one.

In the Japanese version, he uses the command form of the verb suru, shiro, to command them to be at peace. This is a very direct way to command someone to do something, kind of coarse and not at all polite.

The camera cuts to this close up shot of his face:

JP χブレードはここで完成する

EN The χ-blade will still be forged.

TR The χ-blade will be completed here.

Notes: Basically saying the same thing in both languages. I like how the English version went with “forged,” though. Fitting for the whole “creating a weapon” thing.

We see, not Aqua and Ven’s reaction to Terranort’s proclamation, but everyone else’s, Sora’s in particular. He is centered in the frame here:

And then we get a closer shot of him to better showcase his reaction. His voice sounds lower here to indicate his determination:

JP おまえたちに負けることはな��

EN We’re not gonna lose to you.

TR We’ll never lose to you.

Notes: Sora uses the derogatory second person plural pronoun here, omaetachi. He’s referring to their enemies as a whole as a whole, not just Terranort. Unfortunately this nuance is somewhat lost in English because we use “you” for both singular and plural second person, though regional varieties have popped up, such as y’all, you lot, you guys, youse guys, yinz, etc. to refer to plural “you.”

(For anyone wondering, yes, English did used to make this distinction in the past, much like many modern European languages still do. It was a sad day the English language lost its second person plural pronoun for various reasons that I won’t get into here, but those regional varieties I mentioned have popped up for a reason - it is really useful to be able to make that distinction between singular and plural!)

Sora uses the ~kotowanai construction here to indicate that they’ll never lose to Xehanort and his cronies. He’s absolutely sure of it. And the English version captures his casual style of speech with “gonna.”

The shot ends with him glaring at Terranort:

And the camera cuts to Terranort, making what I will call “the Xehanort look” from here on out:

We can see the Xehanort look exemplified by Xehanort himself here:

An eyebrow raised, head tilting forward, eyes looking up - a Kubrick stare to indicate he’s a little deranged.

An example of the Kubrick Stare for reference, from the film A Clockwork Orange. The Kubrick Stare was popularized by the director Stanley Kubrick for it showing up in a lot of his films:

That is a dramatic contrast from the types of faces Terra makes:

Using Xehanort’s expressions with Terra’s body makes it very clear Terra is not the one in control here, as to my knowledge Terra never makes the Xehanort look. It’s also very unsettling to see Terra acting like Xehanort. It just feels wrong, and that really comes through in how Terranort moves and reacts.

One moment, he’s there...

...and the next, he’s gone, indicated by a whooshing noise:

He can move lightning-fast, a fact the slow motion here in the next part obscures a little for dramatic effect. This has also lead to the impression that Aqua and Ven just stood there and did nothing. That’s not entirely true. It’s more like they didn’t have time to do much of anything.

Aqua does, in fact, react to his disappearance; you can hear her make a surprised noise here:

And then he suddenly reappears between her and Ven, indicated by another whooshing noise. Note Terranort’s posture, how he is bending his knee to gather as much momentum to hit Ven with as possible. The scene also goes into slow motion for dramatic effect:

And the camera cuts to him swinging his blade and speeds up a little:

Again, Aqua barely has time to register that Terranort has moved because he’s moving so quickly. Ven is in shock because he would never imagine Terra hurting him. They didn’t have much time to launch any sort of a defense, and while I think Aqua expected Terranort to attack her, perhaps, neither she nor Ven expected Terranort to attack Ven.

Because Ven is like their younger brother, or even their son. In the Japanese version of BBS he downright said he was supposed to bring his parents to Disney Town when he gave Terra and Aqua the passes, not just grownups like the English version went with. And while Aqua and Terranort have fought before, Terra has never laid a hand on Ven. Not as Terra, not as Terranort. Ven trusts him to keep him safe, to protect him. So for Terranort to attack him, well...

It’s kind of like watching a father attack his own son as his wife watches on in horror at what’s unfolding.

The scene goes back into slow-mo as Terranort’s Keyblade connects with Ven, and Ven is folded over from the impact, Terranort hit him so hard. He makes a choked sound of pain, too, like he’s had the wind knocked out of him and can hardly breathe. Note how Aqua isn’t looking in their direction yet because she hasn’t had time to look yet:

We cut to a closer shot of Ven that puts the focus on him as he reacts, and you can see the pain written all over his face:

The scene is still in slow motion as he hurtles backwards:

And then the camera cuts to Aqua to show her reaction. She slowly turns her head (still in slow-mo, remember?), and the look of shock and horror on her face is heartbreaking to see:

The camera speeds up to normal speeds as it shows Ven being flung backwards, as if this is from Terranort’s POV:

Note how Ven’s eyes are still open, he still seems to be conscious:

And then the camera cuts to a different perspective behind the characters, as if the camera is on the ground. Note how once again the ground is at an angle instead of forming a straight line in this shot to indicate how wrong this whole situation is. We can also see Ven landing on his back with his legs in the air...

...which provides enough momentum for him to tumble backwards:

His body settles on the ground in a cloud of dust, and he no longer seems to be conscious. Note his limp head:

My guess is that landing on his back like that/hitting his head is what made him lose consciousness, as he was conscious before when he was still in the air. Terranort wasn’t necessarily trying to kill him (though I’d argue hitting your head like that would probably be enough to kill you in real life if not in video games), he was just trying to incapacitate him so it would make it easier to take his heart out of his body later on.

Riku provides credence to this theory later on when he tells Sora that the hearts of their friends are still in their bodies. If Ven had died here, that probably wouldn’t be the case.

The camera cuts to Terranort, and he has a downright smug expression on his face over what he just did. The Xehanort look is back in full force:

And it makes for quite the contrast with Aqua’s look of shock and disbelief as she gasps:

We get a shot from her POV, showing Ven crumpled on the ground:

And then a close up shot of her reaction to what has happened to Ven that showcases her emotions, her feelings. This moment is framed in terms of her pain and loss and shock, showing that we as the audience are supposed to empathize with her:

We get a closer shot of Ven that fills the frame, and Ven isn’t conscious:

And Aqua has processed everything enough to finally be able to speak:

She calls Ven’s name in a downright panicked manner and leans forward as she does:

JP ヴェン！

EN Ven!

TR Ven!

To be continued...

[lailannajacobs]

Roman Holiday pt. 5

Pairing: Loki X Reader 

Warnings: Constant fluff, I can’t help it :) 

Word Count: 2.2k 

Summary: Reader gets sick and, in dealing with their cold (that’s taking longer to shake than usual), they begin to see that maybe there’s more to their usual sparring partner than they originally thought. Maybe, getting sick was exactly what they had needed? 

A/N: So I had to rework it so many times until I got something that I actually at least kinda liked so I’m curious to know what you guys will think! But I have a good feeling about the next one :) Let me know your thoughts, I always love to hear them <3 

Part 4 Master List 

You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and tried not to think about the fact that your throat hurt more than yesterday. Maybe you would have needed more than four hours of sleep but it was hard to regret your decision when you had managed to finished Clint’s prototypes.

Years of walking the same path to the kitchen made it that you barely had to open your eyes as you trudged through the hallways. You pulled down on the sleeve of your oversized hoodie and wrapped your arms around your torso. If Loki saw you now, he’d probably tell you to go back to bed so that you didn’t die. You smirked. His little knowledge about human illness was comical. Sure, by all standards you were more fragile than he was but that didn’t mean you’d shatter like glass. Or die of a cold for that matter.

You rounded the corner, smashing into what felt like a brick wall. Steady hands on your biceps held you upright as you swayed backward and you looked up, more than a little confused. You squinted your eyes. It was hard to tell if you were imagining the smile on Loki’s face. That kind of smile was never directed at you.

Had you conjured him? “What are you doing here?”

You squeezed your eyes shut and opened them again slowly. He had probably been eating breakfast. You had gotten up an hour later than usual, and although eight in the morning wasn’t sleeping in by anyone’s standards, Loki would have been up before that.

He released his hands, “be careful (y/n).”

You furrowed your brows, not sure what he meant, but he didn’t elaborate. He pushed passed you with a sly look on his face and you watched even after you couldn’t see him anymore. Something in your stomach felt weird. You just assumed it was just the cold…because what else could it be? You waited for it to pass, but it didn’t despite how long you stood there.

Was it…could it be disappointment? You turned back towards the kitchen. Could it be that you had been hoping that Loki would be eating breakfast at the same time as you were? You rubbed your hands over your face as you entered the kitchen. That couldn’t be. You were just lonely because everyone else was on a mission. Yeah, that was it.

When you entered the kitchen, a cadet at the far end shot you a tight smile, dropping his gaze quickly. You pursed your lips. Loki had better not have terrorized the poor guy. Loki was known for using his illusions for a “bit of fun” with the new recruits, and it wasn’t like you were all that intimidating, so it was hard not to immediately blame Loki for this cadet’s extremely shy reaction.

You sat down at the other end of the table with a bowl of oatmeal and scrolled through your phone trying to find anything on the news that would tell you what everyone else was up to. But whatever it was, it was deep undercover because your quick search revealed nothing. They were under the radar - something that didn’t happen often when you were around.

You were good at your job - one of the best really - which meant it was possible for you to make an explosion discreet, but unless specifically asked, you liked it when things went out with a bang. Literally.

You tried to take your time eating your cereal but a lazy Sunday had never been in your cards before coming to the compound and you couldn’t start with one now. It wasn’t in you, especially when you had a cold to sweat out.

The bowl was empty before you could even really try to solve the crossword you found in a discarded newspaper but if you were being honest, you weren’t good at them anyways. The cadet was enraptured with his breakfast, too shy to look up at you so it wasn’t like he could keep you company either. It was probably for the best. You tended to be too pushy around people with softer personalities. With a sigh, you crumpled up the paper and threw it in the trash, already feeling antsy.

After getting dressed, you wandered the halls in search of a sparing partner. You could practice with the bags again today, and you would if you didn’t find anyone, but it was so different with someone else. People weren’t predictable and you needed to stay on your toes. You sneezed and blew your nose. Maybe you should just take it easy. You pushed the thought away. There was probably a cadet somewhere that wasn’t afraid to work with you.

Your footsteps barely made a sound as you walked down yet another empty hallway and you smiled. Slowly but surely, you were getting a hang at this whole secret operative thing. If only five-years-ago-you could see you now. It was kind of hard to believe that you had gone from criminal to do-gooder in less than five years.

“Looking for me?”

You stopped at the sound of his voice and resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “No. Looking for some to train with.”

“I’m right here.” Turning, you saw the smirk on his face you so clearly heard in his voice. “No need to keep looking.”

“What makes you so chipper this morning? I’ve never known you to take a loss so well.” You put a hand on your hip, not bothering to hide your smugness.

He leaned against the wall, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Seeing you on the prowl, looking for me, does. It’s quite flattering.”

“I was not” You imitated his accent, “on the prowl.”

“No one walks that silently if they’re not on the prowl.”

You lifted your chin, “So is that what you were doing then? I didn’t hear you come up.”

“I may have been,” he amended, surprising you for a moment before he said, “You’re an easy prey.”

You glared at him.

He grinned.

“All right, that’s it.” You stomped off, heading towards the practice hall.

When you realized he wasn’t following you whirled around. He stood there with a raised eyebrow and a bit of a stupefied look on his face. His hands were crossed over his chest, a protective gesture you noticed he often did when he was with his brother.

You lifted your hands in exasperation. “Aren’t you coming?”

He cocked his head. “Where?”

“You can’t call me easy prey and then expect me to take it. So come on, let’s practice then,” you kept walking, “unless you’re scared?”

He appeared right in front of you but you stomped on, right through the image. You were getting used to his antics by now and were determined not to get thrown by them. He called you easy prey, like hell he could walk away from that.

A few long strides had him keeping pace with you, “What if we do something else?”

You let out a laugh, “so you are scared.”

He rolled his eyes. It was hard to believe anyone could put that much sass into a simple eye roll.

“So what is it then?” You stopped walking. “What else do you have in mind?”

“What about something neither of us are very good at?” He suggested.

You put a hand on your hip. “Like?”

“Archery?”

You kept walking, “Like I believe that you’re no good at that. We’re going to the hall.”

He put an hand on your shoulder, gently enough that you stopped because it felt more like a question than an order.

You raised a brow.

He sighed. “If not archery, then something else.”

“What is this about?” Your phone beeped, but you ignored it, holding his gaze.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing.”

“Well it’s obviously about something.”

“I was just thinking that you could do something less…” He didn’t finish but you knew exactly what he wanted to say.

“Listen to me and listen to me good Loki.” You stepped up to him and jabbed a finger into his chest. With such a height difference, it was the best way to get your point across. “I am okay. All I have is a cold that will be long by tomorrow. If I’m not okay, I promise I will let you know. But until then, back off. Got it?”

He clenched his jaw but nodded anyways.

Your phone beeped again. “Good. So can we please go down to the hall?”

He waved a hand at your phone, his cold mask sliding back into place. “Please by all means, check it.”

“You don’t have to be so grumpy.” You muttered taking your phone out of your pocket.

Your frustration vanished. The text you received gave you a brilliant idea. One you were certain Loki wasn’t going to like. Which was exactly why you liked it so much.

“You know what, let’s go to the archery range. You’re right, I should be taking it easy today.”

His brows furrowed and he actually looked worried. Good. He should be.

“We just need to stop at my lab first to pick up a few things.”

“And this is my brother.” Thor finished his little makeshift tour by pointing at the tall, dark haired man you had seen on your first day here. “He may seem grumpy but don’t let that fool you. He loves tricks.”

When you had walked out of your room this morning and into one of the biggest, most handsome men you had ever seen, you hadn’t expected to be offered a tour of the compound. You hadn’t said much, but you hadn’t needed to. Thor did all the talking, pointing out things here and there that had struck him as odd the first time he had stayed. He had introduced you to people left and right - you only remembered a few names - and had been more welcoming than you ever thought a complete stranger could be.

He had let you know that he only occasionally came down to earth but that he could see that you’d fit in just right here. He had said it with such confidence that you had found yourself believing him. You had rarely met anyone who was so genuinely nice.

Thor clapped his brother on the back. “Loki, this is (y/n), (y/n) Loki.”

“We’ve met.” was all he - Loki - said.

You pursed your lips to stop yourself from correcting him. You really didn’t need Thor thinking the criminal Steve brought in immediately sought out Thor’s infamous brother. It was hard to believe you hadn’t recognized him the first time you had seen him. You should have. He was something of a legend in the criminal underworld.

Loki stuffed his hands into his pockets and kept his intense stare on you. You held it, refusing to back down. If there was anything you learned from your time running with the mob, was that looking away first meant getting stepped all over. Whatever authority he thought he had, you wanted to make it clear that it didn’t give him the right to push you around. Ever. The corner of his mouth lifted, barely, but just enough to remind you of a wolf. There was something dangerous and cunning lurking beneath the surface and you lifted your chin slightly in response. You had tangled with much scarier than him. He would have to do a much better job if he wanted to intimidate you.

“(y/n)’s an expert at making things go boom.” Thor continued, oblivious of the staring contest going on, “I’m excited to see them in action.”

“That won’t be just yet.” You refused to break eye contact with Loki first to answer Thor properly.

It was rude but you couldn’t help it.

Loki's grin only grew. “Do they have trust issues with you?”

“You would know.”

Thor’s laugh burst through the air as he clapped you both on the back, shattering the eye contact. “I had a feeling you two would be getting along. Come spar with us (y/n), I want to see what the explosive new recruit can do.”

You felt your cheeks heat. How did you tell them that if you were to get into a fight with anyone here you’d end up dead within seconds? You sure as hell didn’t want to die but you didn’t want them thinking any less of you either.  

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing much brother.”

You expected to see that same sly look on Loki’s face but it looked like his mind was elsewhere. Even if his words didn’t come out with as much bite as you expected you still wanted to make yourself seem more like an asset than a liability. You couldn’t afford to be any less than essential.

“I - you - it…” The words didn’t seem to want to come out and you huffed out an irritated breath.

Thor, understanding the situation, smiled warmly. “We’ll see what you’ve got and work with that. I’ve been looking for someone else to practice with my brother for an eternity now. Something tells me that you won’t get scared off.”

Part 6

Tag List: 

@lokislilcaribbeanprincess​ @thatkidofwarandpeace​ @lokixme​ @crescent-night​ @bbcsassdeadass​ @thathedonistgirl​ @witchbitch-stuff​ @jessiejunebug​

[safflowerseason]

With the exception of season 1, I think that the show doesn’t go awfully deep into the actual physical dynamic of having Amy being the only woman on Selina’s staff. Like, I feel like so many of the tampon and menstruation jokes given to Gary could have done more if given to Amy to establish their relationship. Kinda focusing on menstruation so I’d love to hear what you have to say but if you have more to say in the same general sphere I’d love to hear as well.

This is a very astute question, Anon. First things first, let’s not forget Sue! Sue is also a woman on Selina’s team! (although her relationship with Selina is not nearly as intimate as Amy’s, so I understand why the question isn’t about Sue.)  Also, I’m really thinking of S1-S4 in my response here…the gender dynamics of S5-S7 are a separate (and far more monstrous and less nuanced) thing entirely. 

In general, I would say that the reason that Gary gets the jokes about menstruation and make-up and Selina’s general physical needs is to demonstrate to the audience that those aspects of Selina’s experience as a woman are “professionalized.” In order to do her job as the Vice President, Selina’s personal needs, like menstruation, eating regularly, looking well-groomed, and feeling awake, have to be dealt with equally seriously as writing press releases and developing policy. It’s important enough that it has to be someone’s entire job—Gary’s job. Selina can’t afford to be all hush-hush with the only two women on her staff when she gets her period. Someone has to be prepared for it. And while that’s not in the job description of the chief of staff (Amy) or the executive secretary (Sue), it is the job description of a politician’s body man. 

I don’t know very much about the role of the body man in politics, unfortunately…most of what I do know is gleaned from The West Wing and Veep, which aren’t exactly “real” sources. I would love to know if Hillary Clinton had a male or female body man…for one, it does seem like the job requires a lot of carrying things. In general, I think the physical dimensions of politics tend to be examined less in popular culture. There’s a reason why campaign staff have to seriously respect the interests and wishes of a candidate’s spouse, even if they disagree or think that person is a nightmare…because hardly anyone else has that kind of physical access to the candidate. This is why Selina had to be unmarried in Veep…if she and Andrew were unhappy but had remained together for appearance’s sake in some sort of Clinton arrangement, he would still have a kind of access to her that would complicate Selina’s relationship with her team. For Veep to really work as a show, with Selina’s particular psychology, her team—and above all, Gary—need to be the people in closest physical proximity to her.

So, in short, the reason that a lot of jokes about Selina’s physical needs and experiences in the world went to Gary is because the writers were trying to explore the realities of Gary’s job. Plus, Selina and Gary's relationship is the interpersonal connection that is arguably at the heart of the show, and their physical closeness and constant proximity to one another is a huge part of what links them together. (And the writers also wanted to poke fun at/critique the fact that because Selina is a woman, her body man has to deal with things like tampons and lipstick, and in the eyes of most men, such as Dan, that somehow makes Gary less masculine.)

Also, the idea that Selina and Gary first encountered each other at the hospital where Selina delivered Catherine is patently ridiculous. Like, did Selina really insist on taking the random candy-striper guy home with her after that?! Did she just start paying him as her private…attendant? She hasn’t even run for Congress yet! None of the internal logic of the final two seasons of Veep makes any sense.

I do very much agree that the show never really does anything with the reality that both Selina and Amy are comparatively diminutive women and they’re constantly surrounded by a bunch of a very tall men who could theoretically inflict personal harm on either of them at any damn time. The show played with Timothy Simons’s height quite a lot, in a variety of different ways, as well as the height differential between Reid Scott and Anna Chlumsky, but their smallness compared to all the men around them is never something that actually links Selina and Amy together. Their connection is sketched out in terms of emotion, not their shared physical experiences. Certainly, Selina is very physically touchy-feely with Amy in a way she can’t be with Dan or Mike, which reinforces how close they are. However, the physical realities of being women in a man’s world do not seem to be part of what draws them together, at least in the way the show presents their relationship. 

For example, we never see S1-S4 Selina “look out” for Amy when it comes to the male politicians and staffers she encounters. In the very first episode, she’s totally fine with using Amy as bait to get Jonah to surrender the condolence card. She never tells Jonah (or Dan, for that matter) to back off Amy, she never says “be careful” whenever Amy has to meet with a man alone. We know Selina has been sexually assaulted before, and yet, even in the early seasons of the show, she’s never worried that something like that might happen to Amy. Nor does Amy ever reach out to Selina to ask for guidance or support when it comes to dealing with men. We never see them talk about how much it sucks to wear heels all day. In general, it seems their relationship is not explicitly grounded in the fact that they have similar experiences of inhabiting (attractive) female bodies in the world. (And then in the Mandel years, Selina does things like actively endanger Amy by trying to sell her to Leon, so….a different issue entirely.) 

The closest I think we get is the miscarriage plotline in S1, where Selina asks Amy to fake a miscarriage for her, which is obviously a very gendered gesture that she can only ask a woman. And the subtext of Amy’s attempts to soothe Selina in 1.07 very much read as “I’m a woman, unlike Gary, Dan and Mike, so you can talk to me about your boyfriend if you need to.” And of course, there’s ep. 2.05, when Selina and Amy have very similar reactions to Osmo groping Selina. Still, it’s Gary who knows about the miscarriage first, and Gary who immediately finds out about the groping incident, simply through the demands of his job.

The general lack of exploration into that dimension of Selina and Amy’s experience is probably linked to the broader hesitance of the show to delve into the nuances of sexual harassmant and violence except when the plot demanded it. And I suspect there are other reasons as well…Selina’s narcissism obviously plays a huge role in how she thinks about Amy, as well as her own complicated relationship with feminism. And, not for nothing, Selina is consistently surrounded by Secret Service, and I think she is self-centered enough to assume that sort of protection would surround Amy even when she’s not physically with Selina. In other words, she might subconsciously assume that Amy is untouchable through her association with the VP’s office. I also doubt that Selina is thinking very much about what happens to Amy when Amy is not in her direct line of sight, or when she doesn’t need something from her. 

I also wonder if, by the end of S2, Selina—and probably Ben and Kent—might be taking for granted that Dan is probably with Amy wherever she is, which means she’ll be safe from any predatory men because Dan is projecting his possessive caveman vibes all over her. Most of D.C. probably assumes something is going on between Amy and Dan, which could act as a deterrent for predatory behavior as well, since some men only respect women who are “spoken for.” (Obviously, some do not.) (Men are the worst no matter what.) 

Anyway, the intersection of gender, interpersonal relationships, and workplace politics represents a really fascinating, if canonically under-examined, thread within the show. Thanks Anon! 

[stayextrafrosty]

Starting Now

Request: (So this was like three asks long so this is a summary) Reader is new to the Fall Out Boy stage crew and travels with them. They stop near her hometown for a concert and her parents want to come see her. She doesn’t say much about it and leaves Patrick, who she’s gotten close to, confused about why she didn’t invite him when they go to dinner. Misunderstandings and fluff.

Warnings: none

Words: 4559

Masterlist

-

“Alright people let’s go! We don’t have time for chit chatting. This stuff was supposed to be packed before they went on.” Our manager barked orders at everyone he walked past. I suppose I understood but maybe we’d work better without the yelling.

I kept my head down as I passed him, pushing a cart with some of the speakers from the set. Please don’t say anything. Please don’t say anything. Please don’t—

“The new girl is the only one working. Maybe I should give her your jobs instead.” I hurried as much as I could with a couple hundred pounds of equipment. Him saying that was just as bad as being scolded. Most of the other stage crew didn’t like me. Probably because I was able to get in good with the artists themselves. Fall Out Boy.

I helped load the speakers into the bus. I began to jog back inside to help with more stuff, but I was yanked another direction. I opened my mouth to scream but I met a pair of brown eyes and a mischievous grin. Pete. He held a finger to his lips and pulled me to his nearby bus. I rolled my eyes but didn’t fight much.

“Pete, I can’t keep disappearing. This is my job you know, I can be fired.” Pete just shrugged as he stepped onto the bus.

“It wasn’t my idea this time.” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, Pete.” Patrick rubbed the back of his neck and averted his eyes from me.

“Hey, I never specified who it was,” Pete said. He blushed but smiled at me none the less. I chuckled at their banter.

“It’s ok, Patrick. I like you too.” I plopped myself down into the seat across from him.

It was half a joke. I really did like him. I’m pretty sure that he flirts with me, but I can never be sure. Or rather, Pete flirts for him. Patrick gets embarrassed and then scolds Pete. I laugh and reassure Patrick that I like him. But nothing really comes of it.

“Alright, I’m gunna go hang with Joe and Andy. Don’t have too much fun kids.” Pete’s laughter followed him back out the door.

“Sorry about that. He’s a bit—” I rolled my eyes at Patrick and held up my hand.

“You don’t need to apologize every time Pete drags me back here. Believe it or not, I like hanging out with you guys. Even though I’m amazed I haven’t been fired yet.” He laughed awkwardly. I’ve been trying to break him of the constantly apologizing habit.

“So, what’s up, Trick? Did you need to talk to me,” I asked, resting my head in my hand.

“Oh, nothing really. Just wanted to talk I guess. I know we’re coming up to a show close to where you grew up. I just wanted to ask if you—” His rambling got cut off by my phone ringtone. I pulled it out of my pocket. I froze at the caller id.

Devil Boss

This was the first time he called me. I let it ring twice more before realizing I needed to pick it up. I jumped up from the seat and pressed the green button. I braced myself as I placed the phone next to my ear.

“hell—”

“Where the fuck are you? I’ve been looking the other direction for weeks now, but this is it! If you keep skipping out on your job, I will fire you.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Won’t happen again.”

“I should just get rid of you now. Why am I even bothering with a final warning? Just because you’re all buddy buddy with the band doesn’t mean I can’t have you kicked out.”

“I understand, sir.” The line went dead. I ran a hand through my hair. Patrick raised an eyebrow at me.

“I gotta go. I’ve skipped out on my actual job too much. If I do this again, I’ll be fired. I’ll see you later, Trick.” I gave him a small wave before turning away.

“You could just quit.” I stopped at the door. “You don’t have to work. Just travel with us.”

I faced him again. A light blush dusted his cheeks, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Patrick met my eyes for a moment. As much as I wish I could, I needed the money. It was just a bonus that I got to travel around with a world-famous band.

“I appreciate the thought. But I can’t afford to just travel around with you guys.” I smiled sadly at him. He stepped toward me.

“Money wouldn’t be an issue. We would let you have the extra bed on the bus.” I chuckled.

“You guys would get sick of me.”

“I could never get sick of you, (Y/N).” Patrick stood directly in front of me now. Heat rose to my cheeks. I couldn’t hold his gaze and looked toward the door.

“I have to go. I don’t wanna get fired,” I mumbled. I couldn’t seem to make my feet move away from him. His face moved close to mine. We were about the same height, but I felt so small next to him. It wasn’t that I didn’t want this. I just never thought he would be the one to make the first move. It was intimidating.

My eyes closed but the kiss never came. At least not where I was expecting. His lips pressed against my head. Somehow that meant more than anything else he could have done.

“Just think about it.” I could only nod in response. He cleared his throat. “You should get going. I know how the stage manager can get.”

“Uh, yea.” I hurried out of the bus. It probably seemed like I was running away from him. I’ll have to talk to him later.

-

That’s what I thought. But it turns out my devil of a manager really had it out for me now. I understood. I shouldn’t have let Pete pull me away all those times. I knew that, but I let him do it anyway.

I’ve had hardly any time to interact with the guys the last few shows. Especially not enough time to have any sort of serious conversation about feelings and couple status. I’d been running around constantly. I was more like the stage manager’s assistant. He had me getting coffee and organizing the set.

I suppose I was doing more than I had been expected to originally. The other workers still seemed to hate me. I think I heard one of them saying how I was doing exactly what they needed for their class experience. Trust me, I’d let them have it if I could.

Of course, I had considered Patrick’s offer but me getting to travel with them for free didn’t change the fact that I needed money for my own classes. I crashed on one of the sofas in the backstage area. The rest of the crew went to get ice cream or coffee or something. But with tomorrow being close to the place I grew up, I needed to call my parents. It’s been a month since I’ve been home, and it would be another before I came back.

The phone rang a few times before my mother’s excited voice filtered through the speaker. I loved her but sometimes she was a bit much.

“Hey there, baby! Tell me, how’s the job? Are they working you to the bone? Who’s the band you’re setting up for? Meet anyone famous?” I chuckled.

“Chill, Mom. I can answer all that stuff at dinner if you’d like.”

“That would be amazing sweetie! And it’s on us so don’t worry about anything.” I rolled my eyes.

“Ok. Where did you want to go?” I heard the door click open behind me. Were the other crew back already?

“Oh, how about that nice Cajun place you like so much?”

“Mom you don’t need to go that far. I’d be fine with pizza.”

“Nonsense, (Y/N). See you tomorrow at 1.”

“Wait, Mom—” The line went dead. I sighed and pulled myself up from the couch. She had a one-track mind sometimes.

“Where are you running off to?” I jumped at Patrick’s voice.

“Christ, Trick! You scared me! I thought you were just part of the crew or something.” I ran a hand over my face. My heart pounded from the surprise, but it wasn’t slowing down anytime soon. He chuckled slightly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” My phone buzzed with a text from the manager. I sighed. Break over I guess.

“Sorry, gotta run. I’m just going to see my parents since I’m passing through town.” I pushed past him, but he grabbed my arm.

“Have you given any thought to my offer?” I turned to face him.

“I have. But it goes a lot farther than just the summer. I need the money for school.” He nodded in understanding. I went to pull my arm away, but he held on.

“Let me take you out sometime. On a date.” A blush covered his cheeks. I smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“I’d like that a lot.” My phone buzzed again. “Ok, well I have to go. See you later, Patrick.” He smiled and released me, shoving his hands in his pockets. I hurried out of the room to meet with the manager.

“I texted you like ten minutes ago. Watch yourself,” he scolded me as I jogged up.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. I started moving the stereo systems to the stage for the show. It was boring and difficult work, but my mind always drifted to Patrick. Then I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

-

The manager was not happy when I reminded him that I requested this day off. But he approved it before we left so there was nothing he could do. I pulled on my favorite dress. Normally, I didn’t care for dresses that much, but this was comfortable and was long enough that I didn’t have to worry much about bending over.

My mother texted me at least seven times already today just saying how excited she was. At one point she made a joke about bringing the artist I was working with. I thought about it for a moment. What it would be like to bring Patrick with me? I laughed. My mom would probably pass out.

I wouldn’t make Patrick do something like that. Not yet at least. I’ll wait to see if this goes anywhere past the first date. I hurried out the door and almost ran smack into Patrick.

“Woah. Slow down there.” He grabbed my arms to steady me and raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, sorry. I gotta go. I’ll see you later, alright?” Not that I was running late or anything, but my mother tended to be places super early. He let me go and I rushed off again.

-

Patrick POV

What just happened? I came to see where she wanted me to take her for dinner but it’s like I didn’t even exist. I watched her rush off toward the elevator. She looked stunning in the dress. But then again, she looked good in everything.

I began the slow walk back to the bus. Maybe I was overthinking the whole thing. What if she just said yes to a date to be nice? It wouldn’t be the first time girls had done that to me. But why was she all dressed up in the first place?

“Come on, Patrick. You’re acting like an overprotective weirdo,” I mumbled to myself. Yet here I was, still racking my brain trying to figure out where she could have gone.

By the time I made it back to the bus, I still had no idea. My face must have shown confusion for Pete to start making fun of me.

“Hey, dude. Why so upset? Didn’t you see how good your girl looked?” I shoved him as I walked past.

“She’s not my girl. And how would you know what she looked like? Did she come over here?” Pete chuckled.

“Sounding a bit like a defensive boyfriend there, Trick. And no. She didn’t. I just saw her heading toward the parking lot.” I felt my brow furrow. “Aren’t we near her hometown this show or something?”

I smacked my forehead. Not hard but maybe I should have. I can’t believe I forgot. She mentioned it briefly yesterday. She’s going to see her parents. I assume she’ll be back before the show. I wonder why she didn’t invite me?

No, she was just being respectful of me needing to be here for the show. She would have if she could have. Or maybe she’s just embarrassed. I don’t know how her parents are around guys. I mean, I know I’m not good enough for her but I’ve gotta try.

“Dude chill. I’m sure she won’t fault you for forgetting,” Pete said.

“Yea…”

-

Your POV

I had never been here for lunch before. I’m sure it was just as good as dinner, but I usually try to figure out what I want ahead of time. It cuts down on the anxiety. They didn’t seem to put their menu online anymore.

The cab dropped me off in front of the door. I didn’t see my parent’s car as we drove up so maybe I had beat them for once. I pushed the door open and looked around for the host. I caught sight of the deep auburn that was my mother’s hair. I should have known better.

“Hey there,” I said as I walked up to their table. My mother’s face lit up as she bounced from her seat.

“(Y/N)! Sweetie, it’s been so long,” she squealed. I laughed as she pulled me into a hug. Sometimes I wonder if she ever got out of that middle school “freak out” mindset.

“It’s only been a month, mom,” I said, hugging her back. She was so much shorter than me I’m sure people confused her for my younger sister. She was beyond beautiful and sometimes I wondered why I didn’t take after her more.

“She knows that. She’s just going through the ‘empty nest’ thing again.” My father pats my mother on the back, making her let go. We all sat down and put in our drink orders.

“I didn’t see your car when I pulled up. How’d you get here,” I asked?

“Oh, we decided to get a new car! Your father got a nice bonus and we just decided it was time. That old minivan wasn’t safe anymore.” I chuckled.

“It wasn’t safe four years ago.” My parents rolled their eyes at me.

“Your mother tells me that you’re close to the band you work for?” I raised an eyebrow at my mother. She sipped her margarita innocently. Where did she get this stuff?

“I never told her that.”

“But you don’t deny it. Why didn’t you bring one of them along? We’d love to meet them.” I ran a hand through my hair and sighed.

“We haven’t even been on a date! I wasn’t going to bring him along. Besides, he has a show tonight.”

“But there is a guy then,” my father inquired? Fuck. I didn’t mean to let that slip.

“Not fair. You teamed up on me!” The both waited expectantly.

“Wait, tonight? The only show going on near here tonight is that big band! What were they called, the boys that fall? Or something. They said it on the radio this morning.” I burst out laughing at my mothers’ butchering of the name.

“Yes, mom. It’s Fall Out Boy.” She clapped her hands together like a child.

“So, which one is it that has you smitten?” Sometimes I wished we could talk about something other than my love life, but I understood. They were good parents. Supported me in everything, even when I told them I had a crush on a girl.

“Lay off the poor girl. She doesn’t need you grilling her about her personal life. Just make sure he treats you right, ok?” I smiled at my father, thankful.

We put in our food orders and my father tried to keep my mother in line. And away from the topic of Patrick. My mother was playing around on her phone and I’m sure she was looking up pictures. I had let his name slip in hopes she would drop the subject.

“Oh, darling he’s so cute!” I groaned. I’m so happy I didn’t bring him along.

“Mom. Chill. Come to the show tonight or something. I could probably get you backstage to meet them.” I have no idea if I actually can but maybe it would be just enough to stop the line of questions.

“Oh, that’d be lovely sweetie! We’ll buy some tickets right after we finish here.” Thankfully, that put an end to the discussion for the most part. I was able to grill them about their jobs and what not. The hard part would be getting them backstage. I don’t think I have jurisdiction over that.

-

I wandered back to the busses. I tried to keep my head down and away from fans who were scouting the area. The rest of the crew was presumably, already inside. I heard the door to the bus open. Thankfully, the guys and girls had different busses. I pulled my zipper partially down my back before I heard a throat clearing. I spun to face the clearly male sounding voice.

Patrick was turned away from me, a deep blush covering his cheeks. I stuttered and scrambled to pull my zipper back up, but I couldn’t reach it.

“Seriously,” I muttered to myself. He didn’t walk in on me half naked or anything. Everything was covered but I was still embarrassed. This is what I get for feeling too comfortable in this bus. “Can you, uh, zip me back up?” His eyes darted back to me. I could only hold his gaze for a moment. “I can’t reach it,” I explained. Patrick nodded awkwardly.

“Uh, yea. Turn around.” I did and a moment later his fingers brush my back as he pulled up the zipper. God, this was a mess. I turned and smiled at him, trying to act like that wasn’t the most awkward moment ever.

“So, what did you need?” He shrugs a bit.

“I guess just wondering why you didn’t want me to meet your parents?” I chuckled. Oh, so that was it? He was sweet.

“Well it would’ve been pretty embarrassing.” His face dropped but quickly turned blank.

“So, you were running from me earlier? You know, you don’t have to pity me. A simple ‘no, thanks’ would have worked earlier.” I raised an eyebrow. What on earth was he talking about? I opened my mouth to question but he was already turning around. “I’ll see you later, (Y/N).”

I stood frozen as he stepped off the bus. Now hold the fuck up. I darted after him. No way in hell was I letting this misunderstanding fester. I called after him, but I couldn’t be too loud because of nearby fans.

“Trick!” I looked around and I didn’t seem to attract any attention. He slowed his walking pace and allowed me to catch up to him. He refused to look me in the eye. “Want to explain to me why you think I don’t like you?”

“Well apparently I’m embarrassing.” I rolled my eyes and ran a hand down my face.

“First of all,” I started. “I meant my parents were embarrassing. Second, I was running late for lunch earlier. Third, I actually really like you.” I crossed my arms. He was actually dumb sometimes. Maybe dense is the more accurate word. Pink dusted his cheeks and he scratched the back of his head.

“Um, I’m sorry.” I rolled my eyes and stepped toward him.

“Let’s try not to jump to conclusions from now on.” He nodded in understanding. I hugged him in reassurance. His kissed the top of my head. I wonder if he’ll actually kiss me at any point. An idea crossed my mind and I knew exactly how to make this up to him.

“Hey, can I ask you a favor?” He tilted his head in curiosity.

“Sure. Anything for you.”

“I invited my parents to the show tonight. Would there be any way to get them back stage to meet you guys?” His eyes sparkled.

“Of course. Just leave it to me. Bring them to the back entrance before the show. I’ll meet you there,” he said, trying to contain the excitement. I giggled. He was so cheesy and the cutest person ever.

“You’re the best. Thank you. Fair warning, my parents are embarrassing. Mostly my mother.” He grinned.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” he said.

“Oh, it could be very bad. I promise,” I half joked.

-

I hadn’t been nervous for a concert for a while. But I was today, and it wasn’t even because of the concert. I was waiting outside the venue in my black jeans and t-shirt. Usual work clothes even though I wouldn’t be working.

I stood by a statue of some sports player near the entrance gate. Fans milled about happily. I checked my watch. My mom should be bouncing up to me any second with my father in tow. She said something about being able to dress the part, but I wasn’t quite sure what she meant.

I was scrolling through my phone when someone tapped my shoulder. I glanced up the person wearing black converse, black skinny jeans and a red t-shirt. She wore thick eyeliner, but it looked really good. I froze for a moment. My father stood behind my mother looking very much like a guy dragged by his kid or in this case, and over enthusiastic wife.

“Mom. What in the world?” I laughed but not because she looked bad. She was stunning as usual, but this was not a look I was used to.

“I told you I would look the part!” She smiled and hugged me. I laughed as I wrapped my arms around her.

“You’re crazy.” I brought them around to where the busses were. There were some fans back here, but I know the guys went into the venue at least an hour ago. I knocked on the back door. Waited. Knocked again. Usually they had someone standing at the door. I checked my phone and texted Patrick that I was waiting. A couple minutes passed before my phone buzzed.

Sorry! Three minutes! I’m coming!

I rolled my eyes. He was always late. I suppose he could have been coming back from sound check.

“What are we waiting for again,” my father asked? It was sort of sarcastic but also not.

“We are waiting for Patrick to come open the door because apparently the guard that’s supposed to be here is taking a bathroom break or something.” Theoretically I could have gotten in through the stage crew entrance but no one except the stage crew was allowed back there.

I heard the handle of the door jiggle from the other side. I stepped back so I wouldn’t get hit once Patrick pushed the door open. He smiled brightly at us as he held it.

“Sorry about that. Had to get away from our manager. He’s not exactly in favor of us just wandering off.” I chuckled and invited my parents in. The door closed loudly behind them. “Follow me.” My mom came up to my side.

“He’s even cuter in person,” she whispered in my ear. I blushed because I knew how well sound traveled in these places. Patrick didn’t seem to react, but I thought I saw him smile briefly. The walk to the back room was short. Pete sat on the couch playing some game while Joe and Andy tried to mess him up.

“Hey guys, visitors,” Patrick called loudly. I snickered at the weirdness of it. Joe made loud sound of confusion that resembled a ‘huh?’

“Just me guys. And I brought my parents along. Sorry for short notice.” The other three guys all turned at the same time. Surprise covered their faces. Patrick laced his fingers through mine and squeezed. Pete of course was the first to notice.

“Oh, so you finally asked her out? Took ya long enough!” My felt my face heat up.

“Seriously? You had to do that right now,” Patrick mumbled. I heard my mother giggle from behind us.

“So, there was a mutual longing? How cute,” she gushed.

“Mom,” I warned. I tossed an evil glance in her direction, but she just grinned at me. Honestly, how old was she?

“Anyway,” I started. “This is Pete, Joe, and Andy.” I gestured to each of them as their names came up. They exchanged pleasantries. Surprisingly, all three of them stood to shake my father’s hand. He seemed taken aback by their forwardness. I chuckled at him as he shook hands awkwardly.

Patrick followed after the other guys. He seemed nervous. My dad was a rather large man, but he was an even bigger softie. He was never mean to anyone that I brought home or said I was going out with.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” My father glared at Patrick, but I could see the small grin on his face. Just because he was never mean, doesn’t mean he didn’t like to freak them out. Especially the guys.

“You just be good to her. Got it?” Patrick cleared his throat and nodded quickly.

“Yes, sir. I promise.” A full smile broke out on my father’s face as he slapped Patrick on the back. I giggled at his confusion.

“Awesome. Have a great show tonight guys! Let’s go find our seats, dear.” The confusion spread to her face as he began to drag her along. I checked my watch. They were letting people in now, but the show didn’t start for another hour or so.

“Wait, I have questions! Why do you always ruin my fun?”

“Because even though our daughter knows you love her, let’s not embarrass her on the first day of the relationship.” She rolled her eyes but let him pull her along. I hoped to have a love like theirs one day.

“Wait for me! I’ll walk you out,” I called as the door clicked shut behind them.

“Right. Well we’re going to go back to playing games while you guys talk about that awkward experience. We totally won’t be eavesdropping,” Pete said. He plopped himself back in front of the screen. I watched Andy roll his eyes and Joe stuck some headphones in. Clearly Pete was the only one eavesdropping.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry again for earlier. But hey. According to you that could have gone worse. I’m only a little scared or your dad.” I laughed and took his hand.

“Well he likes you. So, don’t worry about it. Besides, they have plenty of time to be embarrassing.” He smiled at me. I leaned into him and pecked his lips. Pink dusted his cheeks, but he still smiled.

“Awww,” I heard Pete fake swoon. Patrick and I rolled our eyes.

[theonceoverthinker]

OUAT 3X09 - Save Henry

It’s time to save Henry...or everyone, save Henry!

See what I did there? Stealthy pun. I can do those on occasion.

Anyway, under the cut you go for the semi-smart stuff, unless you want to save yourself!

Press Release

While Henry’s life hangs in the balance, the race is on to stop Pan from gaining full magical powers from the heart of the truest believer. Meanwhile, in Storybrooke of the past, Regina decides to fill a void in her life and, with Mr. Gold’s help, sets out to adopt a baby.

Main Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness

Past

Wow, Loving Lana’s acting in this first scene with Archie. She’s so muted and given how Regina’s usually up there in the extra squad, it’s so noticable. She looks while not unhealthy, still sickly in a way because of how miserable and lonely she is. It’s a fantastic way of showing just how badly her life needed love and how much of a change for the better Henry was for it. (Not to beat a dead horse, but THIS is the kind of acting a lack of a heart should grant one, Graham!)

Pre-redemption post-childhood Regina flashbacks tend to fight an uphill battle of making Regina sympathetic while also not turning their backs on the fact that she was a legit villain, and this one, like the best of them, handles that concept well! Regina does some bad and illegal things. She casts a curse, chews out basically every Storybrooke character she interacts with, and has Sidney steal Emma’s medical records. But this flashback isn’t about those things. It’s a story about how love started the trajectory of Regina’s redemption.

That’s where the focus is on and appropriately so.

Watching that story is adorable. It’s the first time we see Regina soften to someone immediately and in such a loving way. We see the struggle Regina went through to acclimate herself to motherhood. Look, I’m the daughter of a single mother and I was a bit of a problem child myself: This shit hit home.

The ending story of the segment even shows post-early early signs of her redemption by just showing how Henry’s happiness takes precedence over an ensurement of the safety of her vengeance.

“Sometimes, being a good parent can mean having the strength to give him up.” This line is so important. I like how someone in the real world gives this extra level of validation to the “your best chance” mantra of the series. OUAT has some questionable morals and questionable redemptions. I feel comfortable saying that while I do really enjoy the redemptions we see throughout the series, that statement applies to pretty much everyone in the main cast. Someone (I think @justmilah) put it best at the convention: They’re a bunch of people who probably don’t deserve happy endings but are given them anyways.

Now where am I going with this?

The one message that was always spot on was “your best chance” (Or rather, the giving up line). Parents should put their children first. To give it that real world validation, even if it doesn’t happen in the scene in question, was such a good idea. It’s not that I care about legality in this series.

Present

”You have everything and yet you claim to know what I feel?” I was really torn about how I felt about that line. On one hand, I’ve talked a fair amount about how I dislike Regina’s “woe is me” thing, Emma having a lot of people in her life does nothing to move Henry from being her number one priority, and I don’t think comparing pain is conducive to anything. However, the scene with the Lost Boys where Emma brings up this conversation is a fantastic point for her character and her reaching the Lost Boys with that idea of unexpected love and family is incredibly effective.

Regret vs. Remorse. I think the difference between these two camps is so important, both for this scene and Regina’s legacy. Even as far into the future as Regina’s Good Queen coronation, those vines never would’ve stood a chance against Regina. Regina grew to feel remorse for her actions. That was quintessential to her redemption. If she didn’t, Regina may not have garnered the fandom that she has today nor deserved the happiness she found. BUT, Regina’s path, for as evil as it was, did lead her to Henry, and that is something she’d never go back on. He was the encounter she needed to happen in order to redeem herself and more to that, she loves him. Meeting and getting to know her son was worth it all to her and I get frustrated seeing this line get occasionally misconstrued to saying that Regina regrets nothing because she got something she wanted, like Henry was just a salt shaker on a shelf when the actual situation is nothing like that.

And it makes for a truly badass moment that simultaneously doesn’t take away from her redemption. That was really hard to do, and without going too heavy handed with it, the scene by the tree worked out flawlessly!

Insights - Stream of Consciousness

-Those establishing shots set the perfect mood of panic and urgency just before the curse hits.

-”He would’ve understood.” He was begging you not to kill him! XD

-Rumple is such a little shit and I love it. Like, if Regina’s gonna come and gloat, he’s gonna make sure she doesn’t get to celebrate her victory and push every button he can while he still has the chance. And all without leaving his cell!

-I just had a thought. So, as soon as Regina says she’s going to kill baby Emma, Rumple starts talking about the hole in her heart. And Regina and her guards just BARELY miss Emma. Was Rumple stalling to ensure that Emma got away?

- @ussjellyfish, I finally get what you were talking about with Regina’s love of paperwork! Her desk more loaded with paperwork than Smash Bros is loaded with characters and death!

-”What are you feeling?” “Nothing.” The subtle honesty of that line hits me HARD!

-”A child. That can provide so much meaning.” Archie, one shouldn’t have or adopt a child in order to solely give their lives meaning.

-”I need a child, Gold and I need your help.” “Well I’m flattered, but uninterested.” “Not like THAT.” One of my FAVORITE exchanges in the series! XD

-”Well, a mother of some sort.” Even cursed, Rumple is out for fucking BLOOD! -”When you become a parent, you must put your child first.” So Rumple is cursed during this scene, but one has to wonder what exactly, if anything, is his relationship to Bae under the curse. Are they estranged or is he straight-up dead? I use the dead angle in my Golden Hook fanfic, but I’m curious to hear other thoughts.

-Fun fact: If Emma yields a sword, that sword can hurt the unhurtable in exactly the way she wants to! (See also: Season 6)

-Rumple went to fucking bank for you, Regina! Like, not a single flaw!

-Damn! Amazing acting on Lana’s part again! Like, the SECOND she sees baby Henry, she falls in love with him. The gasp, the way her eyes bulge, the softness of her form! It’s amazing!

-Gotta HAND it to Killian! His hook is really doing a good job of keeping Felix in place!

-Awww! Beverly Elliott!!! She just makes me smile!!! <3

-I love how Regina just knows that Mary Margaret is the best person to stick her baby with! <3

-”Well, as long as your plan holds together, she will.” FUCK MACHISMO ISLAND.

-Baby Henry’s reaction to Gold’s shop is EVERYONE’S initial reaction to this little shop of horrors!

-”My memory’s not what it used to be.” *Sighs* Fucking Rumple. I love you.

-”Oh you really know nothing of what I’m talking about.” I love how even when Rumple actually is cursed, even with Regina’s confidence in the opening, she doesn’t buy that it actually happened for a second.

-”Look at what motherhood has done to you.” I love how Rumple’s line (This one and the ones that preceded it) is basically praising the makeup department and Lana’s acting! That’s actually so adorable and deserved on the writer’s parts! <3

-Okay, everyone’s wash of relief upon seeing Henry wake up genuinely had me choked up. The smiles on everyone’s faces and the deep breaths and the music...I think I need a minute *Sobs into eternity*

-”Young sir.” And letting him stay in the captain’s quarters?! Killian, you fucking adorable softie!

-Okay, now THAT’S the Archie who doles out great advice!

-”A glorious curse.” Regina, I love you! XD

-”Too much pizza.” I love the implication of this line that Henry DID have pizza before his trip to New York, but it wasn’t REAL pizza. XD

-Damn, the Jolly Roger’s captain’s quarters are so fucking fancy!

-”I’m sorry it had to come to this, Henry.” No you’re not, you little bitch!

-*Neal and Rumple hug* Sorry, I think I’ve got something in my eye...TEARS! Like, that entire resolution got me choked up.

-*Pan fails at taking Henry’s heart* Yeah! Suck on that, you little bitch!

-”You raised him well.” Awww! Golden Queen contrast!

-Stupid thing to point out, but after all of that hullabaloo in “Dark Hollow,” why were we using the fucking lighter?

-”A hero, a villain, a pirate.” I love how David doesn’t classify Killian as a villain despite being fairly justified in it! Captain Charming FTW!

-”You have a dad now. Now and for forever.” I’M NOT CRYING! YOU’RE CRYING! “I’ll never leave you. Okay, buddy?” THAT JUST MADE IT WORSE!!!!! AND IT’S NOT EVEN BEING SAID TO HENRY!

Arcs - How Are These Storylines Progressing?

The Mission to Save Henry - There’s such a good feeling of payoff here! Everyone’s working together, communicating, and making risks for each other. David and Emma’s conversation towards the end of the episode about how they all accomplished this is just a testament to how far they’ve come.

Regina’s Redemption - What else is there to say? Regina’s redemption was such a big part of this episode and I already talked in length about why! Well, I guess I want to say that this arc is where Regina really takes her form. She knows she’s done bad and she’s still pretty selfish in a lot of respects, but love pushes her to new emotional heights that neither she nor the audience ever expected!

Emma Accepting Her Parents - Just look at the relief on Emma’s face when she hugs her parents who can both go home with her! <3

Rumple Finding Bae - We finally get to see a big reconciliation between Rumple and Neal! I really liked it, but that having been said, I wish there was more to it than simply “You saved Henry, now I forgive you.” Call me angsty, but that slow rebuilding of their relationship was really great. The fact that they have so far to go is part of what made “Nasty Habits” the fantastic experience that it was. To see it all over so soon after that makes me wish for more. That said, one can make a case that they haven’t fully reconciled AND that at the time they wrote this, Neal was on the chopping block and that resolution with Rumple was best off happening here for that reason.

Favorite Dynamic

Regal Believer. Who else could it be? Just...I love these two! Now, part of me feels bad because Henry plays a much more passive role in this episode than he does in other cases where Regal Believer’s won. In the past, he’s just a baby and in the present, he only has one or two scenes where he talks to anyone. But Henry’s effect on Regina just by the sheer fact that he exists is so much in and of itself. Just by being Henry, he inspires Regina to be her best self.

Writer

Christine Boylan and Daniel Thomsen come off of “Good Form” to write today’s episode! And you know that I loved it. “Solid” is the word of the day here. There’s so much that has to be resolved here and it’s paced so well that one would be surprised by all that was accomplished! Like, Henry is “saved,” Emma recruits the Lost Boys, Rumple is recovered and reconciles with Bae, we see Regina and Henry’s origins, and we see the plan to escape Neverland enacted. That’s a lot for forty four minutes! But the writing and pacing make it feel so natural and while fast-paced, never rushed.

Rating

Golden Apple. What a fantastic episode! It’s beautiful, emotional, tightly written, and has some solid character work! It’s just enjoyable as hell!

-----

I’m all caught up...with last week’s entries! Still three left to go, but I’ve got this!

Thank you all for reading and to the fine folks at @watchingfairytales!

Next time, we relocate from Neverland...to The New Neverland. See you guys then!

Season 3 Total (86/220)

Writer’s Scores: Adam and Eddy (19/60) Kalinda Vazquez (17/40) Andrew Chambliss (17/50) Jane Espenson (10/30) David Goodman (20/40) Robert Hull (20/40) Christine Boylan (20/20)* Daniel Thomsen (20/30)

* Indicates that their work for the season is complete

Operation Rewatch Archives

[treeofsalvation-blog]

Unexpected Bar Scene | Etrain Odyssey Untold 2 | Mythica x CtS Crew Crossover

Summary: A fic set to this CtS Prompt.

I actually did it. It’s not completely to my full satisfaction (and nothing probably ever will) but at least I wrote something. Yeah, a big ol’ fuck you to my overly critical self. Besides all that though this was honestly quite interesting to write. I can totally see why you, @theshatteredrose​, like GiDs so much. There’s a lot of potential for my characters to be complete intentional badasses. And it’s Gerald they’re saving, so that’s definitely a positive. I’m so weak for Gerald right now. He’s an absolutely beautiful character and I love him.

Leon's POV:

“Alright, bottom’s up, gents, its closing time!”

Noises of disappointment and acceptance echoes around the Stickleback and the sounds of chairs scrapping against the floor as explorers take to their feet soon follows. Typical noises that follows the orders of Barkeep Cass.

Leon finishes the rest of his drink before setting the mug atop of the table where he sits with four of his guilds. Kaiser, Thorne, Keyon, and Kendrix purposely take the rest of their drinks slowly to allow for the masses to depart before they stand. It’s not fun getting caught up in the crowd as drunks tend to stumble and accidentally bumping into someone, or heaven forbid cutting them off in some way usually results in a fight.

The fights are often short lived. Still quite annoying though. And it seems that the preferred “breaker up of fights” Axel of the Guardians isn’t at the bar tonight. So that usually means someone like Leon or Kendrix, both known for their solid builds, would be called upon to defuse the rowdy drunkards.

With the crowd now thinned out enough to allow a peaceful exit, Leon pushes back his chair and stands up. He digs his hand into his pocket to drop a few en on the table as a tip as his guildmates, still chatting freely amongst themselves also stand.

Leon takes a moment to eye off his teammates to ensure how sober (or not) they are. Thankfully they were not on the boarder of full drunkenness. Just on the verge of carefree enough and yet still coherent. He isn’t much of a drinker. Only an occasional one. Thankfully those with him are the same.

Kendrix, however, as an absurdly high alcohol tolerance. It’s almost beastly in a way. Can drink anyone under the table and appear perfectly sober afterwards. He is becoming quite legendary because of it.

“Evenin’, Gerald!” Cass calls out in greeting.

Out of sheer habit, Leon turns to look as well and watches as Gerald walks from one of the entrances and makes his way over to the bar where Cass is starting to wipe down.

“Or should that be goodnight?” Cass teases as Gerald stands before him.

Gerald gives the barkeep a wry smile. “Sorry, I would have been here sooner but Simmons got into a fight with a hedgehog and I just spent the last hour removing the spines from his back.”

“Haw haw haw! That kid is just like his old man!”

As long-time friends is it a common sight for Gerald of the Cosmos guild to stay behind after closing to chat with Cass while helping the barkeep to close up for the night. No doubt that Shiki will visit shortly to join them.

Gerald is a good guy. First impression is often that he’s a gruff guy who is always lamenting about the recklessness of his guildmates. But once you get to know him he’s pretty, well maternal in many ways. He has a soft spot for kids who are deemed ‘unusual’ or ‘misfortunate’. And very patient towards those who use alcohol as a form of escape.

Leon doesn’t truly know the story behind Gerald’s relationship with Shiki, only that they have been separated for a few years and are now back together. And nothing is going to pull them apart this time.

Despite Shiki’s eccentricities, they are a sweet couple. You can’t help but smile when you see the two walking down the street hand in hand.

“Night, Cass! Night, Gerald!” Leon calls out as he ushers his guildmates toward the exit.

“See yer tomorrow, fellas!”

As the move outside, Leon barely has the momentum to take a step to the side to avoid someone barrelling into him. He brushes past Kaiser and Thorne without a second glance, even as Kaiser spits “the fuck is your problem?” at him. Words that are usually a prelude to a brawl.

Not this time. The man, about Leon’s age and height, just barrels past them without a word, without a glance, and heads straight into the bar.

Though their interaction is nothing more than a passing glance, Leon frowns. Something doesn’t feel right. Not just because it’s beyond closing time and anyone familiar with the bar knows that. But because his steps were hasty and yet purposeful. His gaze gives the indication that he was a man on a mission.

And, though Leon isn’t a 100% sure, he appears to be carrying something tightly against his side. Holding it in a stance similar to that of a gunner who is ready to go on the offensive.

Perhaps it’s nothing. Perhaps he is simply over analysing things. The guy was likely nothing more than an impatient person (or asshole as Kaiser spits again) and wants to speak with Cass regarding a manner.

Still, Leon feels the need to slow his steps just a fraction.

The sound of a startled yelp and the sound of breaking glass cause Leon to immediately pause in his steps, the hair on the back of his neck standing up on end. Something is wrong!

 Pure instinct makes Leon immediately turn around and step back inside the bar.

What he finds is surprising. The man that brush past them so hastily and rudely only moments ago is now standing in the middle of the bar. One hand grips a single-handed gun while the arm of the other is wound tightly around Gerald’s neck, positioning him in front of him, Gerald’s back against his chest. Almost in the fashion of using him as a human shield.

And yet that doesn’t fit the situation.

The gunman must have made a direct beeline toward Gerald the moment he burst in. Making it pretty clear that he knew Gerald would be inside. So if one is to assume anything, Gerald is his main target.

Why doesn’t matter right now.

As his guildmates move to gather around him in order to see what is going on, Leon holds out an arm to stop them. “Get into positions,” is all he says to them as he keeps his gaze on the gunman and his unfortunate hostage, Gerald.

He hears the others hesitate. Confused by the situation. But they soon sink back into the darkness of the night outside the bar and the barest sound of feet scuffing on the ground can be heard.

This isn’t a battle they are used to. Nothing like that of those they frequently face in the labyrinth. But this was a battle nonetheless. Charging in without a plan of any kind is foolish. They don’t have room to be foolish. Not when someone else is a hostage.

Keeping Gerald close to him, the gunman barks something Leon doesn’t quite catch to Cass while slowly backing out. Toward the exit, one of several in the bar. Gerald stumbles over his feet slightly, tugging at the arm around his neck as he can do nothing but allow his captor to pull him along.

“Hey!” Leon calls out.

The gunman immediately whips around in his direction, dragging Gerald with him so that he is in front of him. He then raises the gun and presses the tip of the barrel against Gerald’s jaw, prompting him to tilt his head instinctively to the side.

“Get back!” the gunman orders.

Leon raises his hand in front of him, not in surrender but in hopes of pacifying the man. Keeping his hands up will show him that he is unarmed. And as long as the gunman keeps all his focus on him, the others will be able to get into the best possible position to initiate their rescue of Gerald.

He is fairly certain that the gunman won’t kill Gerald. If his theory is correct he is his main goal anyway. So though he won’t kill him, there is still a chance that he may hurt him. Impede any of his struggles so that he would meekly allow himself to be taken.

“Easy now,” Leon says as he takes a half step forward. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m willing to listen.”

The gunman’s eyes, a strange orange colour, narrow at him and his jaw clenches. “Ain’t nothing to listen to. I’ve got better things to do than talk to you. Important things.”

He punctuates those last words by shifting the barrel of the gun to under Gerald’s chin, forcing him to tilt his head back and revolting rest his head against the crook of his captor’s neck and shoulder. Gerald’s knuckles are white as he grips the gunman’s arm. And yet despite his obviously tight grip, the man’s hold around him doesn’t falter.

Leon keeps his full attention on the two men in front of him. He doesn’t glance over at Cass. And he certainly doesn’t try to locate his teammates. He trusts that they have found the locations needed for this rescue. So he won’t give anything away by looking for them. No, he wants the gunman to think he’s the only one trying to interfere.

“The gun is loaded so back the fuck off,” the gunman snaps.

“Oh, is it?” Leon questions as he takes another half step forward.

“I won’t fucking hesitate!” the man shouts and points the gun directly at Leon.

A sharp crack suddenly rings out. But that sound is not that of a gunshot. No, it is that of a whip crack. Kaiser had managed to position himself amongst the tables to the right of the gunman. The gunman yelps as the tip of Kaiser’s whip strikes his the tender skin of the inside of his wrist. Because of the sudden attack, the gunman lowers his gun and shoots at the floor in front of him.

Before the gunshot even has the chance to echo through the bar an arrow flies over Leon’s shoulder and embeds itself into the inner side of the gunman’s elbow.

The man releases a high pitched scream as his arm spasms and drops the gun completely against his will.

And at this moment of distraction, Leon springs forward to wrap his arms around Gerald’s waist and rip him from his captor’s grip. He pulls Gerald into his arms, the other man falling against him in surprise, and he jumps back. As he leans down to unceremoniously scoop Gerald into his arms to make their getaway easier, Thorne leaps over the bar and skids to stand in the exact spot Gerald had been in only seconds earlier.

With his lips twisting into an almost derange kind of smirk, Thorne grabs the man’s left arm to immobilise him before he ruthlessly punches the gunman’s side, right under the ribs.

Leon can’t stop himself from wincing when he hears the gunman gurgle a strange watery gasp after the sound of grinding bones. He doesn’t give it too much thought though as he carries Gerald to the safety of behind the bar where Cass still stands.

As Leon places a shaky and surprised Gerald back onto his feet, he looks up in time to witness Thorne step away from the staggering gunman. And for Kendrix to appear right behind him, his eyes narrow and his lips in a sneer.

“Not over yet,” he snaps as he grabs the gunman’s arm and with a single heave of exertion, throws him over his shoulder and pile drives him into the floor. The sound of splintering wood accompanies the sounds of breaking bones and gurgling gasps.

As Kendrix straightens his posture, the gunman releases a shallow gasp as his body goes limp and he slumps to the floor. And doesn’t move.

With his arm still around Gerald’s shoulder to support him, Leon utters a sigh of relief. It’s over. The gunman is subdued and Gerald is safe. Couldn’t ask for a better outcome.

Leon turns his attention to Gerald and gives him the habitual once over. “Are you all right?”

Gerald looks up at him, his face slightly pale, but nods his head. He appears stunned by what happened. “I, yeah, I’m fine. That was…unexpected.”

“Yes, I imagine it was,” Leon says with a small smile before a frown appears. “Who was that? Do you know them?”

Gerald shakes his head as he steps away from Leon. “No, I don’t. I honestly never seen him before in my life.”

Leon nods his head slowly, but keeps his frown. Though Gerald doesn’t appear to know him, he is certain that the gunman knows him. And that concerns him. Still, it probably doesn’t matter now. It’s been dealt with.

He’ll just address his concerns to Shiki later. He’ll be sure to keep a protective eye on Gerald after this.

Jumping from the rafters, Keyon jogs over to them as Kaiser, Thorne, and Kendrix keep a perimeter around the unmoving former agitator. Just as he reaches them, doors on the other side of the bar suddenly fly open and a certain grey-haired ronin is seen.

“Gerald? What’s going on here?”

Gerald winces before he turns and hurries his way over to Shiki, who is stalking through the bar towards him. “It’s fine now,” he insists as they meet each other half way. “It’s been defused.”

Shiki pulls Gerald into his arms and holds him close as he frowns. “What has? What’s going on?”

“Some asswipe tried to take Gerald hostage!” Cass seethes.

Shiki’s eyes narrow dangerously, even as his hold on Gerald tightens protective. “Is he still here?” he asks lowly.

Everyone except Gerald points directly at the clearly unconscious gunman. And take a step back as Shiki tries to approach the man, even as Gerald tries to hold him back by pressing himself against his chest.

From the understandable rage in Shiki’s eyes, this gunman won’t raise a gun to anyone ever again. He’ll be lucky to walk again, probably!

[hebina]

More Man Than Machine - on Tarkin & Vader’s relationship

One thing that really really sticks out to me about their dynamic in current canon is that Tarkin is one of the only people, if not the only one, who liked Anakin Skywalker as a person both before and after becoming a Sith Lord.

It makes sense for this to still  be somewhat underappreciated since their relationship in Legends was apparently very negative, but Disney-era Vader and Tarkin have an astoundingly friendly and healthy personal dynamic. So because I can never shut up about things I like, here’s a long collection of their best moments / essay-ish post of rambling about their new-canon dynamic.

The seeds of this are certainly already present in A New Hope (however accidentally, since at the time of filming the whole plot wasn’t yet planned..).

The movie very clearly demonstrates that Tarkin knows who Vader used to be and this is an established fact between them. They have talked about this before, maybe often, as there’s no uncertainty or confusion in their dialogue.  Vader is comfortable with Tarkin knowing this much, too, and sees no need to distance himself from Anakin in this speech (which he does even with Luke or Palpatine). In front of Tarkin, he uses first person to refer to his old life. 

This makes clear that there is trust between them by ANH time, whether it be with this private knowledge or with military strategy (after all, Tarkin trusts Vader’s homing beacon plan, which ironically gets him killed in the end).

That is picked back up on in the Darth Vader comic series set after the movie:

We know that Vader thinks of the Death Star as a “technological terror” that he doesn’t approve of, yet he defends Tarkin’s plans for the battle station against Tagge without hesitation. Vader may not like the Death Star itself, but that doesn’t diminish his respect for Tarkin’s military ability. 

The situation with Tagge is especially nice to view in contrast to Vader’s relationship with Tarkin, as Vader is technically placed under Tagge’s command in the comic. Which... Tagge repeats in, uh, very clear words.

Vader is... not taken with this. For understandable reasons. He does not need a hand to wield his lightsaber - at least not this hand.

But that puts this situation in a very stark contrast to Leia’s (also very.... interestingly worded) line in A New Hope.

Unlike Vader and Tagge in the comic, Vader and Tarkin don’t outrank each other. Tarkin holds no official command over Vader - and even if he did, Vader tends to undermine command anyway. Tagge certainly suffers through that. Yet, it appears Vader listens to Tarkin often enough for this to be known outside their immediate military associates. Tarkin is the only person except for Palpatine that Vader ever shows this much deference to.

We also get to see this in action during the movie, when Vader releases a man who insulted him personally on Tarkin’s request. The wording “as you wish” also seems to imply he’s doing Tarkin a favor more than following orders.

Vader listens to Tarkin by choice. That is more than even Palpatine can truly say.

Looking at them this way, Tarkin calling Vader ‘friend’ starts to look less and less like merely a casual figure of speech - and the new EU expands on that.

They first meet in The Clone Wars, when Anakin is still a Jedi Knight and Tarkin is still a captain in the republic military. Anakin’s group rescues Tarkin from the Citadel and they don’t initially seem to get off on the right foot, yet...

Anakin: Trust me. Tarkin: I reserve my trust for those who take action, General Skywalker. Anakin: Then let me remind you, we rescued you back there. And I reserve my trust for those who understand gratitude, Captain Tarkin.

At the end of this confrontational dialogue, we are pointedly shown Tarkin’s smirk. He is evidently pleased that Anakin matches him in verbal confrontation, so in the end the impression Anakin leaves on him is not negative.

This confirms itself as, less than a full episode later, this exchange takes place:

Anakin: Captain Tarkin, haven't you learned to trust me by now? Tarkin: You may have earned my trust, General Skywalker, but my faith in your comrades is still lacking.

Despite Tarkin’s marked dislike of the Jedi order, Anakin impresses him in the shortest amount of time. They have immediate chemistry.

On Anakin’s end, he finds himself surprised to hear someone openly voice the same opinions about the Jedi order that he himself holds in secret.

Anakin: You lack faith in the Jedi. Tarkin: I find their tactics ineffective. The Jedi code prevents them from going far enough to achieve victory, to do whatever it takes to win, the very reason why peacekeepers should not be leading a war. ....Have I offended you?

Anakin: No. I've also found that we sometimes fall short of victory because of our methods. Tarkin: Well, I see we agree on something. 

Sadly, I can’t embed a clip here because Youtube doesn’t offer me any, but the tone of voice in which Anakin denies being offended is very soft and full of surprise. This is not an issue he expected to relate to someone over and he is pretty ecstatic about it, as evidenced by a later dialogue with his team:

Ahsoka: Why did Master Piell have to share half the intel with that guy? It's like he's not even grateful we rescued him. Anakin: Captain Tarkin feels the Jedi should be relieved from the burden of leading the war effort. Ahsoka: That's ridiculous. Anakin: Maybe, but we aren't soldiers. We're peacekeepers.The Jedi code often prevents us from going far enough to achieve victory. Obi-Wan: A rather simple point of view. Anakin: Either way, he is a good captain.

Anakin both defends Tarkin from his fellow Jedi and even quotes the exact wording Tarkin used earlier, displaying his longing for someone else to put into words what he only felt (and wasn’t allowed to feel) before.

These episodes also mark the beginning of a long era of Anakin defending Tarkin whenever someone questions him. Here is another one just from this arc:

Tarkin: I am beginning to admire the design of this fortress. It's rather formidable to evade. Ahsoka: How can you admire such a horrible place? Tarkin: Ah, you reveal your shortsightedness. This ordeal only demonstrates how effective facilities like the Citadel are. Pity it ended up in separatist hands and not ours. Anakin: He has a point.

And though Ahsoka saves Tarkin’s life over the course of these episodes, Anakin remains the only Jedi Tarkin holds in favorable regard. In fact, he goes so far as to basically compliment Anakin for Ahsoka’s achievement:

Tarkin: My thanks, Padawan Tano. [to Anakin:] I see you've trained her well.

The arc then finds its resolution in a very firm and charged handshake.

At this point, Obi-Wan picks up on the positive tension between Anakin and Tarkin so clearly that he feels the need to warn about it. (You can practically hear the air quotes around ‘new ally’, too). Anakin, again, defends Tarkin.  If you go back up to Vader’s dialogue with Tagge, you can see that this pattern of defensiveness lasts for the following 20 years. (Another example is his immediate topic change when Tarkin is incriminated by Krennic in Rogue One.)

Later, in the Tarkin novel, Tarkin describes what he felt for Anakin as “grudging appreciation”, for despite his dislike of the Jedi, Anakin had proven himself to him. Both of their opinions and/or circumstances should make them dislike each other, yet the two forge an immediate bond. As it turns out, this chemistry can even endure a fall to the dark side and the total destruction of Anakin’s self-image.

Beforehand, of course, Tarkin winds up the prosecutor at the trial of Anakin’s Padawan Ahsoka which results in her leaving the order entirely... This lets their relationship take a huge one-sided hit as it appears Anakin can’t forgive this even years into his life as Vader (see: Tarkin novel). Tarkin meanwhile, never changes his mind about Anakin.

So now that we have established their baseline during the Clone Wars, onward we go towards Tarkin and Darth Vader. I’d like to start this off with a quote from the Tarkin novel:

Nothing about Vader seemed natural - not his towering height, his deep voice, his antiquated diction - yet despite those qualities and the mask and respirator, Tarkin believed him to be more man than machine. Although he had clearly twisted the powers of the Force to his own dark purposes, Vader’s innate strength was undeniable. His contained rage was genuine, as well, and not simply the result of some murderous cyberprogram. But the quality that made him most human was the fierce dedication he demonstrated to the Emperor.

I took this posts’ title from this line, because it reverses a much more prominent quote from the original movie trilogy:

Even Obi-Wan, who used to be so extremely close to Anakin, chooses to think of him as something that has left humanity behind. The rest of galaxy seems to echo his sentiment. The topic of whether Vader is droid or human at core is brought up over and over again in Star Wars canon and most characters decidedly reach the former opinion. Tarkin doesn’t.

And this is despite the fact that when Tarkin first sees Vader as Vader, two of his mechanic limbs are in plain sight, which is a more clearly robotic appearance than most people have ever seen on Vader.

When they then meet officially as both are introduced to the Death Star project, they immediately reconnect in a way. The Tarkin novel goes out of its way to give a lengthy description of how Tarkin feels that  Vader “regarded him with clear recognition”. This is incredible because, as we know, Vader wears a motionless mask. And yet, despite this, they somehow manage to stare so intensely at each other that this wordless communication takes places.

This alone makes Tarkin suspect Vader is in fact Anakin Skywalker, a suspicion that then hardens when he sees the way Vader interacts with his troops or fights with his lightsaber. This, admittedly, isn’t all that weird for Tarkin who is extremely used to observing people, but it still speaks of him paying more attention to Vader as a person than is the general average.

Wordless communication continues to be a theme in the novel as well. Tarkin is rather skilled at reading what’s going on behind the mask, and if he’s not able to then he still makes the attempt. Where most people see Vader as his mask, as the terror the mask represents, Tarkin always puts his priority on seeing past the mask because to him, Vader is a person. Vader’s general existence doesn’t intimidate a man like Tarkin, so he has the leeway to look at who Vader is and used to be. He gives Vader a human treatment that is largely missing from his life otherwise.

And knowing who Vader used to be doesn’t diminish his appreciation of him at all. It’s sad in the novel he holds Vader “in high esteem” and “[hopes] Vader [feels] the same towards him”. His appreciation only rises during the novel, too. After Vader kills a large group of people it is explicitly said that Tarkin finds himself warming to him, so... isn’t it nice they’re on one wavelength in cruelty? Hah...

In turn, Vader gravitates towards Tarkin even in a time period when he’s still mad at him regarding the Ahsoka trial - the novel goes out of its way to show Vader initiating what is extremely close to small talk with Tarkin ("We haven’t stood together on Coruscant for some time, Governor”; “How is life on the Sentinel moon, Governor?”). 

During the novel, Vader also learns to relate more to Tarkin. This is thanks to Palpatine, who by the way has canonically spent years (since the Clone Wars!!) trying to set up Anakin and Tarkin to get along and forge a great partnership. I’m just going to paste this paragraph here so we can all see the great determination the Emperor has to make Vader like Tarkin...

Palpatine ends this conversation requesting Vader to ask Tarkin why he named his ship Carrion Spike and thus indirectly to ask about Tarkin’s past.

By the end of the novel, Vader does just that and is treated to lengthy backstory. Interesting about this is the way Vader acts while being told as much. Though normally he is hard to read, in this dialogue he goes out of his way to look down to Tarkin and make sure the other knows he’s listening. He also asks a great many specification questions. Vader is interested in Tarkin and more than that, he wants Tarkin to know as much. 

This is the turning point in their Empire Age dynamic, this is where Vader accepts Tarkin fully and they enter a proper two-sided connection. By the end of the novel, Vader appreciates Tarkin openly and shows it by delivering Tarkin’s regards to Tarkin’s enemies and even staging said enemy’s execution as a homage to a famous execution Tarkin staged in his youth. 

All of this is before they ever truly talk about Vader’s identity too, though Tarkin makes numerous references to his suspicion throughout the novel - which Vader never denies. But somewhere in those 15 years between the novel and ANH, they have to have laid it out in the open to be able to speak like they do on the Death Star. Their relationship isn’t static, they steadily grow closer and more trusting of each other over the long time they both work for the empire.

Their great co-operations during the following years at least find some appearances in canon (Tarkin delivering prisoners to Vader, their cooperation in assassinating Minister Tua, the whole of Krennic-bashing...), though I am certainly sad we don’t see them have the private-ish conversations that they logically have to have had in this timeframe.

Their relationship is an amazing one because they genuinely like and respect each other as people. To Tarkin, Vader isn’t a war machine he’s an appreciated coworker. And in return, to Vader, Tarkin is someone he can be human with, someone with whom he can afford to say ‘I’ about Anakin Skywalker. It’s subtle and certainly not alike to the hearty friendships we see on the rebel side of things, but they are as close as they can be with their personalities.

I admit that some of the scenes I covered here have alternate interpretation options, but I don’t feel like the overall point is all that off-the-mark. Vader and Tarkin in current canon just get along very well in a fashion that is more genuine than most of their relations to other people.

If you read this to the end, thank you so much. I hope I could share a bit of the fire-y love I have for them together. And a warm thanks to @skywvlked for not only dragging me into Star Wars but also helping me IMMENSELY with writing this whole thing <3

PS: on a shippy end-note, comparing Tarkin POV descriptions of Vader, like ‘rich bass of his voice’ and ‘midnight orbs’ (with regards to his mask’s eyes), to descriptions of Palpatine, like “many thought [his voice] sinister, but to Tarkin [it] merely sounded strained”, is... also something.