#i know some are missing but they’re. a little more complex than i’m willing to bother with rn

[cellgatinbo]

[creativity-deficient]

An essay on the Tweaks, how I view their relationship with their son, and what it means for their futures

Although I’m not the biggest fan of people who portray the Tweaks as loving parents, all things considered, I also don’t believe they are as evil and malicious as some make them out to be.

I have SUCH a love/hate relationship with those guys, and it’s because as shitty as they are, they’re also both WONDERFULLY complex characters who are just shrouded in mystery. They’ve been on the show for SO long and yet we know so little about them. To be fair, they could be interpreted in any way, as we don’t quite know their intentions, HOWEVER they do seem to love their son in a sense, so crummy as they may be, I do think that there’s a bit more to all of it.

Mr. Tweak is willing to do anything for his business, even at the expense of his morals. We see this exact plot in “Gnomes”, where he is willing to use small children as a manipulation tactic to get people to care about his business.

Tweek is going to inherit the shop one day, and Richard knows this. They BOTH know this. So he’s gotta prepare him in the exact same way HE was taught, to become ONE with Tweek Bros coffee and to ALWAYS put the business first, even if it’s not right. He loves Tweek in his own way, but ultimately he sees him as a business accessory first and a son second.

I’ve also mentioned in a previous post that I think Mr. Tweak sees a lot of his younger self in Tweek. It’s no secret that Mr. Tweak doesn’t seem to view his son very highly, referring to him as “nothing but a sp*z” so to speak, and if Tweek is going to take over the business one of these days, he needs to be sure of himself, not some “twitchy, tweaked out kid”. Richard knows this because HE was once like this. This was how HIS father raised him, and look how he turned out :)

Of course, by Tweek’s age, he was already had TWICE the work ethic, but no matter, just means he needs to push harder, right?

When Tweek turns 15, his father decides that he is finally old enough to learn the secret family recipe, as he and all the Tweak men before him did.

But it doesn’t go as expected, and Tweek has quite the opposite reaction that Richard hoped he would.

He feels appalled and betrayed, and why wouldn’t he? I mean his parents had both been drugging him his whole life, (as well as the whole town), essentially fucking him up for the foreseeable future. Even as an adult he still deals with twitches and tweaks. And they just expect him to be okay with it?? Tweek is a LOT more resilient than his predecessors, and he refuses to let this ruin his life.

But it’s not as easy as it looks. He’s been drinking his parents’ coffee for as long as he can remember, he doesn’t know how to be without it. He’s forced to spend a lot of high school in rehab, missing out on a lot of his teen years. Of course, Tweek has Craig by his side to make the process a lot easier, but it’s still a lot.

This definitely breaks the relationship he has with them, and Tweek finds that he can’t trust them any longer. Or course, his father just sees him as ungrateful. After all, he’s spent so long trying to shape him up into this hard working, young man, and THIS is the thanks he gets? Richard has always striked me as being someone who is nice until he’s no longer getting his way, and Tweek ultimately trying to break the cycle of abuse is exactly what hammers in the nail of their already strained relationship.

Mrs. Tweak is a different story. This isnt the first time she felt her husband has gone too far, we see her stand up for the kids in “gnomes”. I get the feeling that she’s always known what they were doing was wrong, yet she still went with it anyways. Why? Even she doesn’t know, in all honesty. Perhaps she had been manipulated into all of this as well, under the guise that it what was best, being brainwashed into this docile wife who just does as she’s told. Or perhaps it was always to her own accord, and she’s been in on it all along. We really don’t know enough to know for sure.

Her son refuses to talk to her, and she understands why. She’s always has wanted what was best for him, but they’ve gone too far, WAY too far, and things were never gonna be the same now.

But she hopes that, perhaps, with time, there will be some healing.

[bioethicists]

Your post about unfollowing people who’re really combative online made me think about someone in particular. Apologies if this is out of nowhere so feel free to ignore.

If somebody (with thousands of followers) who isn’t a part of a specific marginalised group habitually seeks out bad takes regarding them to dunk on, isn’t that a little weird? I’m not talking about defending your friends when they’re facing discrimination or dunking on the main bigot character of the day, but regularly seeking out bad takes from small accounts that’d otherwise never seen the light of day.

It’s nobody on here I’m referencing. I feel a little crazy because this person gets heralded as a huge ally and has a lot of people in this marginalised group who’re really devoted to and defensive of them but it just really rubs me the wrong way because they seem really discourse-brained more than anything else.

yeah haha ironically i think some of the ppl on that post are seriously missing the point (which i probably could have made clearer) in terms of some of them are like. people who clearly think being told they're racist is the same as the type of behavior i'm talking about.

but also yes! this is more what i meant- people who are seeking out fights with those who would otherwise never get any attention! especially when it's takes that are NOT popular or the response is just totally disproportionate. or just building a social media brand off of over-exaggerated hatred/meanness towards people who "deserve it". it reminds me of all the cis people on here who constantly reblog shit about like... putting terfs in meat grinders but then never even lift a finger (or, more likely, are part of the mob) when trans women are sexually harassed or viciously bullied.

i don't think joking about harming bigots is some grand moral wrong, but it's often just gratuitous in a way where... are you actually expressing outrage or are you using the performance of outrage to get followers? what if that outrage is directly putting people in danger (e.g, if you find a terf with 45 followers + start sending her death threats, is that helping anyone or is it potentially provoking more violence, which you know full well you will NOT be the primary target of). i can see how this behavior can result in members of certain groups defending you, because if nobody has shown their willingness to defend you, isn't it refreshing to see someone who will? it's not so simple, either, cuz i do think ppl who do this do CARE, but i'm not sure the way that they care is sustainable or would hold up to a real, complex situation where allyship is needed.

it's so contextual + i'm not arrogant enough to pretend like i'm the one who can see the context right 100% of the time. this is a little sappy but i feel like the difference is whether the root of the anger is love/hope or if its fulfilling your own desire to lash out/release tension/look good. like "i'm pissed because i care about my trans siblings + it hurts me to see them treated this way + nobody else is saying shit for them so i'm stepping up" vs "raging online meets a need in me that i'm not willing to acknowledge + here's the perfect target". not exactly that simple but sometimes u can tell someone would be a kiwifarms bro if they didn't need social capital from a different crowd, ykwim (which btw we regularly learn that certain leftists will comb through + disseminate kiwifarms shit if it fits their vibe, which is an automatic red flag to me that you only care about drama, not morals)

it reminds me of how some "callouts" are clearly written with the intention of preventing harmful people from maintaining the power to do more harm (e.g x popular artist sexts underage fans) while many others are clearly written with glee about someone turning out to be Bad (e.g x popular artist has a private twitter that i, op, SCROUNGED to find, where they say horny things about genshin impact characters)

[admirableadmiranda]

Something that annoys me about this “if you say this character is evil, you’re reading MDZS wrong” is that MXTX didn’t actually mean to write this “oh we’re all grey” story. She openly dislikes JGY, and she thought of JC as WWX’s crazy ex shidi with deep problems. Like, they aren’t there for you to justify their actions (god knows they did it a lot of times already) or to try to make them look good by putting them in the same bag as the protagonists just because “they’re all well fleshed and complex characters that are morally grey and flawed”.

What a way to miss MDZS’s actual message. It saddens me because WWX’s hero journey is as tragic as it is beautiful. I wish I was as brave as him, to oppose injustice even if I am alone against the world.

Yeah I totally get you anon! I’m not sure why it’s so hard for people especially in MDZS to figure out (though I have seen it for her other two works too, but not to the same extent), but she’s actually pretty clear in her work on who’s admirable and who’s not. Even when she’s deliberately using framing to get you to question what you’re hearing versus what you’re seeing, it’s pretty clear who you’re supposed to doubt the narrative about and who you’re not. Jin Guangyao is revealed as the main villain less than halfway through the book, after all!

There are works where that would be an appropriate reaction. Sometimes the heroes can too, be deeply flawed, negative people. But that’s not where MXTX is writing from and from what danmei/xianxia I’ve consumed so far, she has some of the least morally gray characters scattered through her works. She’s clearly very big on the idea that people can and will choose to do good if they want, and also that while it certainly doesn’t exempt them from flaws, that also flaws do not have to be hero killers.

Wei Wuxian is killed not because he is occasionally a little tactless and also keeps people at a distance because it is a very slow journey to trust them enough, but because his morals and willingness to stand up for them are inconvenient to the people in power. He is a flawed, well rounded character, but that’s not why he was hated or why he died. Similarly Jiang Cheng having sympathetic backstory and losses does not exempt him from being a shitty person because as we see in the novel, he’s not the only person who loses everything in his life, but he’s the one who decided to stew in it.

MXTX is so big on your choices define who you are, not your position or history. What matters most is what you do in the shadows and the light. That’s why Wei Wuxian is so heroic, he is always willing to stand by his morals even to the bitter end. It is tragic, but also it’s so full of hope, even! Look at what he has in the end of the story, it is so solidified that his choices and sacrifices did make a difference! Lan Sizhui is alive, well raised and cared for, because Wei Wuxian made that sacrifice for him. Mianmian is out living her best life with Mr. Mianmian and Mini Mianmian because she chose to follow Wei Wuxian’s bravery and has never regretted it. Jin Ling is blossoming under his patient guidance into a wonderful young man who can hold his head high with pride. It may be tragic, but so much good came from it too even if in the immediate moment it was hard to see.

And you know what, anon? We can be that too. Maybe not as far as he goes, but we can still shine bright and make the choices that have positive impacts down the road. We can be Mianmian, inspired by him to do the same that he did on the scales that we can.

The world may be a big thing to save, but we can always save little pieces of it here and there and the more of us that there are, the more powerful it becomes.

[whoslaurapalmer]

lulu watches doctor who; the doctor, the widow, and the wardrobe, pond life, asylum of the daleks 🥚

it’s clara time it’s clara time it’s clara time it’s clara time it’s clara timeeeeeeeeeee

-have to say that i. did not super care for. the doctor the widow and the wardrobe -like. it was fine????? but i wasn’t like. super invested in it. didn’t keep a great deal of my interest? -there’s probably some words i could put together about the mothership thing of it all/the way moffat writes women continues to be a strange thing but i’m like. eh -that being said i do have A FEW NOTES OTHERWISE

-oh shout out to the chakoteya transcripts yet again for having the prequel in the transcript so i got to read that -eleven calling the tardis and pretending to talk to amy :( -he misses her :( so much :(

-what bothers me is like..............like i said the ending of the god complex was perfect. but then the time shenanigans of the wedding of river song happened and i feel like, kind of overwrote pieces of the ending of the god complex????? especially bc it. left a lot up in the air about what timelines happened. of course amy remembers them all but still it was like -where are they all now?? -i didn’t want a REHASHING of the conversation at the end of god complex but i wanted.........something else about. where eleven is and where amy and rory are -some of it is like.......excused away with, the doctor let them think he’s dead too, to protect them, like he was doing when he brought them home, and didn’t know river told them the truth, and stayed away for two years because he was afraid to be a part of their lives again until convinced by the spirit of christmas, as one does (-matt smith did the, sad miserable agonized fidgeting of a being so alone and so desperate for companionship and not always willing to let it happen sooooooooooo well btw) -i just. wish there had been. a little more there, before he came back for christmas, besides the prequel thing, just, more room for establishing what their relationship going forward is, after he gives them up in the god complex, after the wedding dances all over a million things -i was given minor consequences for ‘letting the world, including amy and rory, to an extent, think he’s dead’ though so there’s that -idk it’s just about the execution of it all again

-i liked having a separate tap for lemonade until i remembered uk lemonade is like. sprite -no hate on sprite but real live lemon lemonade is one of my absolute favorite drinks -“science-y wience-y” the wibbley wobbley marches on -ahhhh here is the “because they’re going to be sad later” -i was going to say something about companions and the doctors but i think i literally did bring up this line back in nine and ten in big notes part 1 when i went absolutely off about, companions and the doctors

-“everything about home that you miss until you can’t bear it. until you almost burst.” “till it hurts. is that what you mean?” -once again eleven’s benchmark for ‘the most gorgeous human hope and experience’ is ‘THE ABSOLUTE PAIN IT CAUSES’ and that’s endlessly fascinating to me. that it’s something he encourages in other people until it hurts, for reasons (here) or he has to be told it’s not quite that (back in victory of the daleks) bc that’s the kind of thing he’s constantly running from as eleven, because of ten (not to push that but it’s absolutely bc of ten.). that’s eleven’s view of what happens when you get too close or when you love, that it hurts -and it hurts him!!!!! all the time!!!!! constantly!!!!!! and he can’t find a middle ground!!!!!!!! there is no middle ground where the doctor is happy and everyone else is safe -which does cover a lot of why eleven stays away for so long and just leaves messages on their answering machine, in pond life, but it’s still not like.........idk -it is attempting to find a middle ground that can’t exist, and just, missed opportunities to me

-speaking of pond life, if we had also seen, more than just one scene of amy and rory’s relationship breaking apart -i wondered if like. there were hints in there anyway. and i think you could MAYBE make a very slim case if you squinted but i’m not like. really committed to it -does it make more sense if we don’t see a reason right away, and we just see them broken up, or to have really seen them fall apart? like, is there an advantage, narratively, or is it fine either way -but also, like........................................... -the reason they do break up. -mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm 

-on the one hand -- actual, legit consequences from demon’s run! -on the other hand!!!!! consequences we didn’t know about until they can conveniently be pulled out of nowhere for an angst reason!!!!! -i think you can also try and excuse away some of this by saying that amy and rory’s relationship had of course changed after demon’s run but also. again. we don’t see that changing. we can say, yeah, that’s probably why, but we don’t?? see it happen??? -I DON’T WANT IT TO COME ACROSS AS LIKE. I HAVE THIS OBSESSION WITH NEEDING THINGS TO BE VISUALLY SHOWN IN ORDER TO MATTER OR ANYTHING, -BECAUSE I DON’T, -IMPLICATION IS FINE, -BUT THAT’S THE THING, I DON’T THINK WE’RE GETTING IT IMPLIED EITHER, we can figure out a reason, but we don’t even get that reason IMPLIED anywhere, as actually existing in canon, and not just fandom going ‘that’s probably why’ -that’s what i mean about seeing things -i know i personally have an obsession with needing, in my own life, things to be talked out to death in order to understand myself and other people, and that that’s a thing that might sometimes enter my writing and i could write too on-point conversations instead of sometimes the more implied conversation vibes people do actually irl converse in too -but when i say ‘i wanted to see this’ i don’t mean i wanted to see them talk things to death!!! i do mean i wanted it implied!!!!!!!! somewhere!!!!! anywhere!!!!!!!!!!!!! in any way!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -i want to see anger!! i want to see them taking things out on each other!! i want to see distance!!! -and pond life would’ve been great for that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-WE ALSO HAVE NO REASON TO THINK OR BELIEVE UNTIL IT’S EVEN MENTIONED THAT RORY ALWAYS WANTED KIDS. -that’s not a thing we know about rory at ALL until amy says so. -amy not being able to have children is a thing we don’t even know either, until now! (-i mean yes we get foreshadowing. but it’s also like. literally never discussed, until now) -and that’s the dissolution of their relationship????? just not being able to have kids???????????? -we have no idea that would’ve been a dealbreaker, or thought to be a dealbreaker!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -i actually thought that amy and rory had like, matured to a point as well that they WOULD talk about that. that would be a thing amy would be able to talk about with rory -amy’s modus operandi (please read that in david lynch’s voice) is very much burying how much things mean to her and how much people mean to her and putting up walls between her and other people bc of her struggles in making connections and feeling alone but i also thought that she’d really, honestly connected with rory by this point, and that they had a vibe where they could talk about something like that, or, even just sort of talk about it -or that rory, as well, would be at a point where he wouldn’t think “i love her more than she loves me” anymore -but that’s also a lot of.........we do get relationship development with amy and rory i think but i don’t think their characters ever get stressed or developed as much as i personally want them to

-i do remember the absolute CHOKEHOLD asylum of the daleks had on tumblr when it aired, or at least it felt like that to me, with how my dashboard looked after it aired -also me, at a family baby shower in 2012: so yeah, that episode sure happened, didn’t it? and bbc sherlock, that happened too, back in january. my grandmother and my aunt, still watching new who and bbc sherlock, along with my uncle (although i think this might’ve been around when they all tapped out, of both shows): yep. -chokehold, though. i think the original gifs of that when everyone was screeching over souffle girl live rent-free in my head. i recognized many a gif finally watching this episode.

-AND IT’S CLARA TIME!!!!!! IT’S CLARA TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -it’s not so much that i’m interested in the impossible girl aspect of clara. that i think will in fact be something i will likely get bitchy about. count on it -it’s that i think clara looks fun and she’s adorable. -and not that i’m looking forward to face the raven particularly, down the line, but that i’m interested in how clara becomes more like the doctor than most other companions, even if a great deal of them become like the doctor in certain ways, it’s the way it happens with clara -also she seems spunky.

-and she delivered, in finally seeing the episode!! i thought she was really fun. -however yep the little look at the camera. that bothered me. that’s such a moffat wink wink nudge thing. yes that’ll become a Thing ~ don’t forget ~ isn’t that something to think about ~~~~~ -her being turned into a dalek was very heartbreaking though :( like genuinely sadder than i had pictured from again the gifs that have lived rent-free in my head for ten years (-oh i felt that way about doomsday, too. the gifs don’t do that wall justice.) -the insistence on her humanity, even as she’s having it taken away from her - “i was going through a phase.” a woman can love another woman without you making a joke out of it, moffat. without it being a phase. without this need to write bi and lesbian women who have an obsession with men and downplaying loving women

-the idea of being converted into a dalek is so interesting. like the partial conversion. the foreshadowing that they didn’t remember being converted -but does it like........make sense that the daleks would convert humans??? for their intelligence? -i mean, maybe? to make them into daleks, to be of use, to be the dalek’s idea of a superior being -but it also seems a little beneath them, to think of human intelligence as worthy to the point they would convert a human to keep it -/takes a moment to think not quite fondly but with enduring interest about dalek sec. daleks in manhattan/evolution of the daleks was such a time.

-you know eleven is very angry in this episode. the doctor is usually more angry than usual with the daleks, but idk i also thought it went deeper than that. like eleven’s anger is very dark and bitter and that’s clear here - “they say you can help.” “do they. i wish they’d stop.” - “what do we do?” “make them remember you.” - “who destroyed all the daleks?” “who do you think?” -not to mention, invoking the doctor as the oncoming storm! -the history!! the history that’s dead now!!!! -he’s alone a lot now. (well. APPARENTLY? MAYBE?? I DON’T KNOW) -and that’s why the doctor shouldn’t travel alone, bc of that unchecked rage, especially bc eleven is also. presumed dead -and it’s once again bc amy is threatened, and eleven will do anything if that happens

-i will give moffat this. the daleks were scary in this one - “the daleks have no concept of elegance.” vs “does it surprise you to know the daleks have a concept of beauty?” -well. quite frankly yeah. but ultimately i guess not. sure fine why not -i don’t think ‘asylum’ necessarily works but like i don’t have the energy to get into that. i’m sure other people have before me

- “not one of those things you can fix.” - “it’s just life. that thing that happens when you’re not there.” - :( -life happens with the doctor vs it also doesn’t because that is a shiny sparkly adventure life with one foot on a death rollerskate and nothing like what Life is vs what people think of as a life definitely happens more without the doctor vs the ongoing thought of the doctor could never have a normal life vs the “then what is the point of you?” of it all, if the doctor can’t fix things vs reaching the point where you know you can’t ask the doctor to fix things bc it’s not that kind of problem. it’s not fixable like that. vs but maybe it should have been, especially because it was for amy, amy needed him and she needed him to fix everything and he wasn’t there for her

- “doctor who?” ALL the daleks ever just forgetting about them bc clara wipes the doctor from the hivemind is honestly hilarious, but it’s also very much ‘the question is coming and don’t you forget it!’ but i guess. done in a better way than usual, i think. bc it is really funny

-can amy and rory and the doctor sit down and have a fucking conversation at the end of this episode???? why not, bc he still doesn’t want to involve them????? well it’s a little fucking late now, i think!!!!!!! -i mean i know they all get yoinked into this but like!! CAN WE JUST ESTABLISH THE NEW VIBE OR SOMETHING -i guess it’s whatever now but!!! yknow!!!!!!!

-poor amy almost gets turned into a weeping angel and now almost gets turned into a dalek -so were the images of the humans......1) a hallucination bc of amy turning into a dalek 2) a perception filter?? 3) an implication that the daleks there were humans too? 4) that daleks would want to be? 5) do i need to think about it that hard???? there’s just such an emphasis on that scene, and i just. remember seeing the gif of the ballet dancer soooooooooooo often and the scene is just treated so. elegantly 

-oh newish intro and colors and fonts!!! -that was fun. -it’s dinosaur time next!! (i get the feeling the dinosaur episode was not particularly popular??? idk dinosaurs sound like, at least a time, of some sort.)

[cattatonically]

A Traitor Shows His Hand - Mia Monroe (Covens of Eaton Falls, book 5)

Synopsis

My power is seeing the darkness inside people, but can I learn how to use it to reveal our worst enemy?

This war is seriously getting on my nerves. It seems like every day there’s a new obstacle to overcome, but hopefully, it’s bringing us closer to the end of it all. But then what?

Living with the sexy vampire Geoffrey has me feeling all kinds of new things. On the surface, he’s kind and attentive, but underneath is a darker energy that intrigues me. I’ve always been drawn to what can’t be seen. I guess you could call it a gift, at least that’s what my aunt told me and my twin Jack.

When that gift shows up in a new way, a traitor is revealed, and Geoffrey and I become closer than ever. Now I’m learning how to be independent from my twin, how to love someone, and how to harness the power that’s been unleashed within me before our time runs out and the enemy wins. Piece of cake.

A Traitor Shows His Hand is an MM paranormal romance featuring a twin finding his individuality, a vampire with a dangerous backstory, a traitor giving the bad guy the upper hand, and a war that just won’t go away. It is book five of six in the Covens of Eaton Falls series starring Maverick and Geoffrey. Each book features a different couple with an ongoing conflict and therefore should be read in order.

My Thoughts

Maverick and his twin, Jack, have always been able to see the darkness in people. And that power has made them feel like outcasts, even in their own coven, always relying on each other, and leaning on each other. But now all of that has changed.

With the war drawing ever nearer, the twins have to make some very difficult decisions, and grow in ways they never imagined. But this makes them all the stronger, both apart and together. And the more Maverick comes into his own, the more he wants to build a future with Geoffrey, or G.

G is more than willing to be patient with Maverick as he works through what it means to become his own person, and to learn more about himself, away from Jack. They both know they’ve been drawn together for a reason, and they take their time exploring that, even with the revelation that they’re mates.

It feels like all the pieces have come together – except for the tension between Jack, Willem, and Prince (a witch we’ve encountered in previous books from a neighbouring coven) – and the final battle is about ready to begin. The entire plot of the war did, indeed, become a lot more convoluted, but I was perhaps a little hasty in my previous reviews.

While this whole thing is extremely messy and complex, somehow the answer was staring me right in the face and I totally missed it. Knowing what I know now, everything suddenly makes a lot more sense, and everything has become extremely clear.

That being said, we’re in the home stretch now, tensions are high, and it’s all or nothing. It’s going to be very interesting to see how this all ends, seeing as getting to this point was one hell of a ride so far.

[quindolyn]

Better Kisser Part 2 || James Potter and Lily Evans

Request: “istg i need a fic or a blurb or something about being in a poly relationship with lily and james...after reading Better Kisser it’s all i can think about 😭” -anon

and

“hiii !! first of all, i love your writings they’re so amazing honestly !! could you maybe write something with hot lily from “better kisser” ? i’d love it if it was both sensual and fluff :) thanks so much if you ever do something like that! hope you have a nice day/night!“ -anon

and

“QUINN HEAR ME OUT

imagine a part two to better kisser but like smutty bc Lily starts bragging about how she thinks she’s better at other things since she’s the better kisser so they make it a competition over who can like... get the reader off fastest... and then it’s like a competition to see who can get her off the most...

good ideas here right...? N E ways love u bestie <3″ -anon

Word Count: 4,752

Notes:I got three separate requests for this so obviously y’all wanted it and I want to write it. This is smut! I could also do headcanons on Jily x reader and even if you guys don’t request it I’ll probably still write them because it sounds like fun.

Warnings: poly sex, jily x reader, dom!James, dom!Lily, sub!reader, LIly’s a sex god, prove me wrong, they’re both cocky as fuck

Part 1

Masterlist

Lily Evans was the stars, she was mesmerizing and mysterious. Just as they decorated the night sky, accentuating the darkness through their beauty she too brought out the best in those around her without dulling any of her own shine. She was sly smiles and gentle touches, slender pale fingers and long, swishing red hair. She was wondrous and beautiful, complex and absolutely gorgeous. Lily Evans, she was the stars.

James Potter was the sun, he was bright and glowing and impossible to ignore. James was messy black hair, and goofy grins, strong hands and bear hugs. He attracted all of those around him, sucking them into his gravitational field, giving them purpose, warming their souls. A centering person when the rest of their lives were crazy and unpredictable and scary. James Potter, he was the sun.

Where Lily was understated and controlled with her witty remarks and sharp quips James was loud and boisterous, trying to get the biggest reaction out of people. Where Lily was calm James was chaotic. Where she was focused on her end goal he was everywhere, practically bouncing off the walls.

Together they were perfect.

And somehow they were yours.

One thing was for certain, Sirius Black was an upright prick, and you owed him, bigtime. If it weren’t for Sirius Black you would’ve never kissed Lily Evans on a dare. You would’ve never kissed James to satisfy his curiosities. You wouldn’t have spent weeks exchanging tense glances with the two, holding your breath whenever one of them so much as sat down one seat away from you in the Great Hall. Lily would’ve never found you, hiding away in the common room in the wee hours of the morning, pouring over your Transfiguration notes preparing for your test the following morning, or rather later in the day. She never would’ve brushed the hair out of your face with her elegant fingers, nails painted in a berry shade, complimenting her pale skin. She never would’ve told you that you really needed to go to bed, she never would’ve leaned down, meshing her lips with yours, allowing you to answer that question that had plagued you after you kissed Lily. 

What did her lips taste like when she wasn’t drunk?

The answer?

Well at that moment, morning breath. Which brought a new question to the forefront of your mind, what did she taste like when she hadn’t just woken up in the middle of the night?

It didn’t take long for you to find out the answer. She’d brought you up to bed, her hand clasped with yours, telling you that she and James wanted to talk to you in the morning resulting in you tossing and turning all night in anticipation of the conversation that would take place the next day.

If it weren’t for Sirius Black you never would’ve had that conversation with James and Lily by the Black Lake. You never would’ve even had the opportunity to accept their offer not to join their relationship but to start a new one, with all three of you. You never would have never learned what Lily tasted like, it was maple syrup and cherries by the way.

If it weren’t for Sirius Black you wouldn’t be sitting in your dorm room with the two of them, skimming over notes for your potions midterm. Well you and Lily were looking over your extensive notes, James on the other hand was sitting behind you, pressing kisses to the side of your neck.

You hissed as he dragged his teeth over a bruised spot on your neck, sending ripples of both pain and pleasure through your body, leaving your fingertips tingling, dying to get themselves on his skin.

“Aw, baby,” He cooed in your ear as he registered your reaction, it’s not as though he could’ve missed it, not with your back pressed flush against his chest, “You a little sensitive there?”

“Come on Jamie,” You giggle trying to hide your neck from him, pressing your ear to your shoulder, “You already know I am.”

James slipped his rough, strong fingers under your jaw, using them to lift your head back up, away from your shoulder, “Don’t hide from me darling, wanna see the marks I left on you.” He returned his lips to the same spot on your neck, lapping slightly at the purple mark with his tongue.

Lily snorted from where she laid on her stomach a couple inches away from you on the same bed that had been transfigured to accommodate all three of you.

“What’s so funny Lils?” James inquired, peeking up from the delicate skin covering your thrumming pulse.

“Nothing,” She sang, twirling her pen in between her fingers, her feet hanging lazily in the air, “I just think it's funny you think you left that mark on her.”

“Well I did,” James said plainly, obviously not amused by Lily’s comment, “Didn’t I poppet?” He asked, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear.

You ducked your head, trying to hide your wide eyes and heated cheeks from the two of them. 

“It’s okay (Y/N),” Lily cooed, setting her quill down in her book, marking her page as she closed the book, dropping it onto the floor, “You can tell him it was me who left that, his ego can take it.” She held eye contact with you for a minute, managing to keep a straight face before a smile broke out across her lips, chuckles erupting from the soft cushions of her lips, lathered in a light pink gloss, “Okay, it probably can’t but that shouldn’t stop you baby, Jamie needs to remember that he’s not the only one who can make you feel good.”

“I know I’m not Flower, but I left this one, I can tell, it's one of the darker ones.” And he was right, the entire left side of your neck was littered in bruises and bites, some lighter than others, some darker, but none as dark as the one he was currently tracing with his index finger.

“Nope,” Lily countered, popping her p before pushing herself up off of her shins in order to settle between your open legs, “I distinctly remember, I had her pressed up against the wall before you got back from Quidditch practice, she moaned so pretty for me, prettier than she ever has for you.” She grinned victoriously, turning her gaze back to you, and only you, “It’s like he cares more about that fucking snitch than he does us.”

“That’s bullshit love and you know it,” He murmured in your ear pressing a kiss against the corner of your mouth before dragging his lips, considerably less rough than they were before you started dating him as you’d made it your mission to apply lip balm to his lips every time you saw him, across the side of your face back to your ear, “She’s just trying to turn you against me, she’s so mean isn’t she.”

They loved doing this. Making you choose between the two of them, or trying to anyway. The power struggle between the two of them was hot as fuck.

Before you could so much as open your mouth Lily was responding for you, “I’m not mean doll,” She crooned, not looking at you but rather focusing on the dark haired boy whose nimble fingers were expertly pulling at the hem of your shirt, slowly but steadily rolling up the material until it covered just was much as your bra, “Jamie just needs to remember who the better kisser here is, who makes you feel the best.”

Ignoring her jab James murmured a quick, “Want this off,” In your ear before pulling the shirt over your head and arms, tossing it off the bed and onto the floor paying it no mind as soon as the material slipped from his fingers. 

Desperate to prove his worth, to prove his dominance James’ hands ran up and down your thighs, inching your skirt up them, “You’re not the better kisser here Flower, you’re not the best anything. Our baby here loves me the most.”

“She told us James,” Lily sighed, clearly exasperated with your boyfriend, “After she kissed you for the first time she told us. I’m the better kisser, just accept it. She likes me the most don’t you (Y/N/N)?”

“Jamie you make me feel so good,” You began, hoping to soften the blow, “But Lily’s tongue is magic, feels so good in my mouth, in my-my…” 

“It’s okay pretty girl,” She simpered, “You can say it, where does my mouth feel good?”

“My pussy,” You forced out, willing yourself not to stutter. 

“That’s right my pretty little kitten,” She grinned, tilting your chin up with her index finger so that you were staring into her swirling emerald irises, darkened with obvious desire. “I make your pussy feel so good, better than Jamie.”

“Off.” James demanded, not taking kindly to Lily’s teasing, as he aggressively undid the clasp on your bra, the snide remarks obviously doing no damage to his ego as he pulled the straps from your arms. Taking no care with the expensive, luxurious garment that he himself had bought for you he flung the clothing over his shoulder. Clearly not caring about the money he’d spent on it as the silky material crumpled next to the bed.

“Not just my tongue that makes you feel better isn’t that right my darling?” Lily smirked, beginning to undo the buttons on her button up, “S’my fingers too, stretching you out on my fingers, they can reach so much further in you than his can.”

“Pfft,” James shook his head, one hand settling on your waist, gripping with a frankly frightening strength, no doubt melding dark purple bruises in the shapes of his fingertips on your soft skin.

“Gimme your hand Flower, let me show our baby that you’re wrong” James demanded as the hand not on your waist extended towards the redhead. When she dropped her hand in his he immediately lined them up, palm against palm, fingers against fingers, and much to James’ chagrin his hands were only barely larger than hers. His palm was much larger than hers leaving his fingers slightly shorter than his girlfriend’s.

Feeling benevolent, you grabbed his hand before it dropped down to his thigh in defeat, pressing your hands together as he had pressed his to Lily’s. Yours were considerably smaller than his, and therefore her’s too, your palm nearly half the size as his, your fingers dwarfed by his. 

“See Jamie, your hands are bigger than mine.” You comforted, mesmerized by the contrast, “Your fingers make me feel so much better than mine ever could. They don’t even come close.” 

“But that’s besides the point right poppet?” Lily questioned, grasping your jaw in her graceful hand, you noticed her ivory dress shirt now hung open, revealing her red lace clad breasts as she once again tilting your head up to look her in the eyes, “Because you’re not allowed to touch yourself, not without my permission.”

“Or mine,” James piped up.

Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend Lily released her grip on your jaw, “Keep your eyes on me darling, be my good girl.”

“You even like my strap more than you like James’ cock, stretches you out so much better than he ever could. Not to mention we don’t have to wait for his little blue pill to work do we?”

Being a muggle born you understood her joke but James was utterly bewildered by your shared laughter.

“You’re not laughing at me are you, you little slut?” James spat, his voice hard and unwavering as he turned your face with a single finger so that your neck was craned to look at him.

“N-no,” You shook your head pathetically, your eyes flashing downwards not being able to meet him.

“Open,” He commanded, tapping your bottom lip and you instantly obeyed, not daring to disobey him. You were rewarded for your obedience by the male spitting into your mouth, the taste of his saliva bleeding along the expanse of your tongue.

“What do we say to Jamsie, pretty girl?” Lily raised an expectant eyebrow.

“Thank you.”

“Good girl,” James muttered, watching as you swallowed the gift he’d given you, “Thought you’d forgotten your manners for a second.”

“Not our good girl,” Lily grinned, somehow now only in her thong, “No, she’s such a good girl for us.”

“Guess she is,” James agreed, leaving a trail of kisses between your shoulder blades.

“Bet I can make our baby cum first James,” Lily boasted, beginning to work on the zipper of your skirt, expertly pulling it off of your legs, “Being the better kisser and all.”

“Don’t get cocky Evans,” James tutted, pulling his shirt over his head as he had yours, “You know I love your strap baby but it just can’t compare to my cock. Mine’s real.”

Clearly unimpressed by his comment Lily pressed her lips to yours, maneuvering you so that you too were on your knees, giving James time to strip down to the same level of clothing as the two of you. 

Smiling into the kiss she put but a millimeter of distance between the two of you to catch her breath, “You taste so good kitten.”

“You’re the one who tastes good Lily.”

“So nice to me, don’t deserve you,” She planted a kiss to the hollow of your throat, “Let me make you feel good baby.” 

Not complaining, you let Lily lie you back on the bed where James was no longer standing, instead now standing behind Lily, letting his hands settle on her hips. 

Once you were lying down she hooked her hands under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed as James helped her off the mattress, helping her plant her feet on the floor. It was things like this, the subtle loving gestures and actions even when they were practically at each other’s throats, that reminded you of how much they loved each other. Of how much they loved you.

“Look at these,” Lily lilted, her finger hooking under the silky material of your panties, “So pretty aren’t they J?”

“Very,” He whispered in her ear only loud enough for you to barely hear him, “Like her in red.”

Lily hummed in affirmation, tapping your hip as a non verbal clue to lift your hips so she could pull them off of you.

She didn’t waste a single second before kneeling down before you so that her face was level as your glistening pussy, already so wet from them just talking about pleasuring you. 

After running a single finger through your folds Lily brought her finger to her lips, a hum leaving her lips. “You taste good down here too (Y/N), you have such a pretty pussy.”

“Thank you,” You murmured, attempting not to whine and be their good girl even though you desperately wanted them to touch you. 

Without any warning Lily inserted two slender fingers into your cunt causing you to gasp at the sensation. “Lily,” You whimpered, trying not to buck your hips towards her hand, not wanting to let on quite yet how desperate you really were. 

“See J?” You could hear the smirk on her lips as she slowly moved her fingers in and out of you, paying you no other mind, instead directing her attention to her boyfriend who still stood behind her, his hands now on her bare shoulders. “She’s really not all that hard to please when you actually know what you’re doing. Had my fingers in her two seconds and she’s already so needy for me.”

“Shut up Lils,” James growled, “Stop talking like I don’t know how to get her off, she’s my baby too, I know exactly how to get her desperate.” In his efforts to prove his point he moved onto the bed, taking one of your nipples into his mouth resulting in a whine to tumble from your lips as he raked his teeth over the sensitive bud.

As his mouth sucked on one his hand moved to the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers before pinching harshly making you gasp in pleasure.

Lily allowed James to have his moment before taking your clit between her lips and sucking. If you gasped for James you absolutely screamed for Lily, thank Merlin for silencing charms because otherwise someone would’ve probably thought you were being tortured. Once she had your sensitive bundle of nerves in her mouth she began humming, making wave after wave of intense ecstasy roll through your core and up your spine, leaving your nerve endings frayed and responsive to every single touch.

You could feel everything, the soft material of the duvet beneath your back, James’ tongue circling your nipple, one hand caressing your heated cheek while the other traced shapes down your stomach. You could feel Lily’s fingers continuing their assault on your cunt, reaching so deep inside of you that they almost touched your g-spot, but not quite, as your clit was set aflame by her mouth. 

“You’re not even trying,” Lily snarked, coming up for a breather from in between your legs, “You really think you’re gonna get  her to cum from playing with her nipples? I never realized you were that daft Jamsie.”

“If you’d give me a turn,” He began before Lily cut him off.

“Doesn’t look like she wants me to stop does it?” She nodded in your direction where you were writhing on the bed merely from her fingers. “Do you want me to stop, baby?”

“No,” You begged, “Please don’t stop, please! Need your fingers in me, make me feel so good.”

Grinning triumphantly Lily returned her mouth to your pulsing cunt, sucking with a new found vigor that had your back careening off of the mattress, hips bucking towards her mouth.

“Hey,” James scolded, moving his arm to keep your hips firmly on the bed, “Don’t be a desperate slut, take it as she gives you it okay? Be good for us.”

Nodding feebly you willed your hips still but it was nearly impossible as Lily replaced her fingers with her tongue, moving her digits to pinch your clit. Feeling the pleasure bubble up in your stomach you focused on your girlfriend’s ministrations, lapping at your hole with her tongue sent you into a whole new level of pleasure.

“Feels so good! Lily, that feels so good, please don’t stop!”

You could feel her smiling into your opening as she sped up her movements, bringing you closer and closer to the precipice of climax. “Am I allowed to cum?” You asked desperately, the only thing keeping your hips where they were being James’ strong forearm, digging into your hip bones.

“No,” He growled, slapping at your tit bringing you even closer to something you were apparently not allowed to do. 

“Come on James,” Lily said replacing her tongue with her fingers as she moved her head to talk to the dark haired boy, “You can’t just tell her she’s not allowed to cum because it’s not you who’s going to make her cum,” Turning her attention back to you she smiled, “Of course you’re allowed to cum baby, don’t listen to him. Are you close, m’love?”

“Uh huh,” You screwed your eyes shut, the pleasure becoming overwhelming and only intensifying when Lily’s mouth returned to your clit, licking broad stripes up and down it. 

“Baby look at me,” James’ deep voice commanded you, to which you promptly obeyed, “Wanna see you when you fall apart on her tongue, wanna see you cum baby, you’re so pretty when you cum.”

James’ words accompanied by a particularly harsh nip by Lily to your clit has you tipping over the edge, letting out a high pitched scream as pleasure took over your body, drowning you in the feeling of your lovers still working on your body, obviously not satisfied with leaving you with just one orgasm.

As you came to, your orgasm slowly seeped away from your cloudy mind, reentering you into your dorm room where you heard Lily’s melodic voice, “See James, told you I could make her cum first.”

“Didn’t even get a chance,” He grumbled from his place next you, brushing the hairs off of your forehead. “Wanna make you cum poppet, tell Lily to give me a turn.”

“L-lils,” You managed in your post orgasmic haze, “Want Jamsie, want his- want his…”

“Look at how good of a job I did on our baby,” The redhead boasted, “Just one in and already a blubbery little mess. How do you think she’s gonna be fairing when I have her on her fourth?”

“Only shooting for four Lils?” James raised a defined eyebrow, “I was thinking I could get at least five out of her myself.”

Your eyes widened, slightly in alarm, slightly in anticipation. “F-five?”

“Shh kitten, let us talk,” Lily chaisted lightly. “You really do think highly of yourself don’t you Potter?”

“I’ve done it before,” He countered.

“No, we’ve done it before, both of us. Neither of us have ever gotten her to five by ourselves.”

“Don’t think you can do it Flower?” As he rose from the bed and moved towards Lily you caught sight of his cock, already painfully hard, the tip a bright red and leaking with precum.

“S’not me I’m worried about, don’t wanna overwhelm our baby.”

“I can do it,” You piped in feebly, “I can take it, make me feel good please, wanna feel good.”

“See Lily? If she says she can take it, who are we to question her?”

“You sure poppet?” Lily asked you, her eyes on yours.

“Yes Lily, I’m sure.”

That was all James needed to nudge Lily out from between your legs, spitting on his fingers before rubbing them up against your pussy. “You need me to stretch you out darling?” His voice laced with absolute adoration as he took in your perspiring figure from this new angle.

You shook your head but James wasn’t satisfied, “Wanna hear your voice poppet, come on not too fucked out yet are you?”

“No, don’t need you to stretch me out, want your cock.”

He grinned, lining up the tip of his cock with your quivering entrance, “There’s my good girl.”

As he pushed into you you faintly questioned why you didn’t have him stretch you out beforehand, but once he was fully sheathed inside you all you could think about was the way his dick pressed perfectly against your g-spot. 

You moaned out as he began thrusting into you, ruthless in his efforts to make you cum. He moved his hands to hold your hips at an angle where he could better reach deeper inside of you if that was even possible.

“So pretty baby girl,” His grin was wicked as he watched your cunt, reveling in the sight of his cock going in and out of your dripping pussy, “You look so pretty on my cock, you gonna make a mess f’me?”

“She’s not gonna cum yet you himbo,” Lily interjected, “You’ve been inside her what? Five seconds? You need her to cum soon? You close?”

Using Lily’s mocking as motivation he pistoned his hips in and out even more viciously, leaving you a bouncing mess on his cock as he pulled his prick almost all the way out, so that only the leaking red head was still inside of you before fully sheathing himself in you once more.

“Fuck!” You cried out as the tip of his member brushed against your cervix, “Don’t stop!”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” James managed through gritted teeth, throwing your legs over his shoulders so that he wouldn’t have to hold them in his hands any longer, giving him the ability to grip your hips.

So lost in your pleasure you hadn’t registered where Lily was until she sat next to you on the bed, moving her fingers to massage your clit pulling a strangled gasp from your throat.

“L-Lily,” You stuttered out.

“Hey there baby,” She cooed, like she was talking to an actual child, “Jamie making you feel good.”

You nodded, keeping your eyes locked on hers.

“You close, kitten? You gonna cum soon?”

A whimper escaped your lips this time as you nodded once more.

“Let me see if I can help with that then, wanna see you cum again pretty girl.”

You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against the mattress with a soft thud as Lily’s fingers started working magic on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your second orgasm.

A slap against your clit, combined with the deep, hard thrusts of your boyfriend, reaching depths within you you could’ve only imagined before him sent you careening. Your climax washed over you in waves, each stronger than the last making you twitch and spasm on the bed.

You hadn’t even registered that you’d squirted, not until Lily’s delicate hands were rubbing your release up and down your thighs, “Well would you look at that?” James grinned, “I didn’t see you make her squirt Lils.”

“Oh, you don’t get points for this one pretty boy,” Lily grinned, not making eye contact with him but rather focusing on your pulsing cunt.

“What?” James was incredulous, “What do you mean I don’t get credit for that one, she came on my cock.”

“Yes, technically, but she only came when I started on that pretty little clit of hers, so responsive isn’t it, doll?” She asked, punctuating her remark with a gentle slap against your still throbbing cunt and a quick wink that James was too bewildered to pick up on.

Over the next couple of hours they were able to lull a number of orgasms out of you, James making Lily sit in a chair next to the bed so that she couldn’t touch you at all and take credit for any of his hard work.

You’d cum on her tongue and his, both of their fingers, once at the same time, they split the credit for that one but it was worth it, getting to watch your cunt stretch around both of them. You came on James’ cock more times than you could count, and of course on Lily’s strap on because Godric, did she know how to move her hips.

By the end you’d cum a grand total of nine times. You weren’t quite sure how’d you’d done it but you had. And they were both so proud of you.

The final score was Lily, five. James, four. You’d better believe that James was butt hurt about it, not quite willing to accept his obvious defeat, instead of acknowledging it and conceding to his very talented girlfriend, working on getting you cleaned up.

Once James had left the dorm to run you a bath Lily scooped you into her lap, running her hands up and down your thighs but being careful not to touch your sensitive cunt. 

“You did such a good job for us baby,” She cooed, pressing kiss after kiss to the back of your head, “Came nine times, can you believe that?”

“Is Jamie going to be mad that you made me cum more?” You asked in your degenerative head space not wanting to upset your boyfriend.

“Of course not,” Lily squeezed your hips, soothing your woes. “Especially not at you, he might mope around a little bit because he is a man,” She pulled a light giggle out of your lips with that one, “But he’ll get over it, it's just gonna push him to work harder next time when he’s making you feel good.”

“Flower,” James called from the bathroom, “Bath’s ready.”

“Come on baby,” Lily said, easing you up onto your feet, “Let’s get you in the bath and all cleaned up for us alright?”

“Okay,” You yawned, understandably exhausted by the events of the night, “Will you take the bath with me?”

“Of course my pretty girl, not gonna let Jamie join us though, s’my reward for being the best.”

You chuckled, nodding your head in agreement, “Sounds good Lils.”

As she settled you into the bathtub Lily ordered James out before he could step into it with you.

“But-”

“Out!”

“Fine! Fine, I’m going!”

Lily was the stars and James was the sun, and fuck did they know how to make you feel good.

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts​ @kittykylax​ @amourtentiaa

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 302: As the Todoroki Turns

Previously on BnHA: 

Today on BnHA: We have a very fun chapter in which (1) Shouto grows up lonely on account of his parents being worried that his siblings will literally try to kill him, (2) Natsu and Fuyu grow up neglected on account of not being special and/or self-destructive enough to attract attention, (3) we get to revisit all of that exciting spousal abuse from chapter 39, and (4) Touya burns to death right on cue, pretty much exactly like we expected it to happen. Thankfully since this is a shounen manga, Horikoshi finds some hope in all this misery as the Todoroki family rallies together, with Shouto getting his long-overdue credit for being a perfect sweet angel who put up with all of this shit for sixteen years and somehow came out of it strong and kind and empathetic and determined. Anyway, so that flashback was a barrel of laughs. But now that it’s over, we can put all of that angst behind us, and move on to... well I guess, probably, more angst. Look, we’re short on variety at the moment. Bear with it.

ouch. we knew this was coming, but still

A+ parenting move there. “ho boy, our eldest just tried to murder our youngest, now what? hmm how about we isolate our youngest from all human contact”

though in their defense, we probably shouldn’t have expected this rabidly strength-obsessed fire man and his wife who was groomed since childhood to obey her family’s whims to have any idea of how to raise stable, well-adjusted offspring

SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS

this is a perfect example of Enji’s tragically self-revolving viewpoint right here. just because being a hero is your entire world doesn’t mean you can just excuse yourself from anything outside of that and act like it’s out of your control. “alas, all I care about is hero stuff and my son can’t be a hero, we are doomed to inhabit two different worlds” no you jackass, it’s called having more than one hobby?? figuring out how to spend some time with your son that doesn’t involve training?? the same exact thing you were telling him to do last week, while ignoring that you’ve never done that yourself in your life??

that said, yet again we have that complexity though because it’s obvious that Enji at least on some level is aware of his own flaws, even though he seems unwilling or unable to confront them. honestly, from what we’ve seen so far, Enji’s obsession with surpassing All Might might be more accurately called an addiction. he literally can’t let go of it even though he’s fully aware of how it’s slowly destroying his life. and so in the same way that a lifelong smoker or alcoholic might tell their child to stay away from cigarettes and booze, Enji tells Touya not to follow down the same path as him, even though he himself doesn’t know how to leave that path. so yes, it’s hypocritical as fuck, but there’s also an element of helplessness there as well because Enji literally doesn’t know how not to be like this

though all the same he sure could stand to put in more than just a token effort. but it is what it is, and we already know how much he’ll come to regret it

and meanwhile Baby Shouto has frozen his sleep bubble with his quirk lmao. so I guess his quirk did come in early. that’s a recipe for chaos right there

once again Shouto is ruining every single dramatic panel in this flashback

this was so dark and intense... and then I spotted the lil bubs in the corner. Horikoshi please control yourself

“some hero you are, running away” and then all of a sudden, “FIVE YEARS LATER” lol what. OKAY THEN

(ETA: love the confirmation that eight-year-old Natsu comes from the Iida school of puberty and is basically a fully grown man, and meanwhile Touya comes from the hobbit school of puberty and has been perpetually eight for the past five years.)

“HEY BIG BRO WANNA COME RECREATE AN ICONIC FLASHBACK SCENE WITH US. WE’VE GOT THE SOCCER BALL RIGHT HERE, BUT HURRY UP OR WE’LL BE TOO LATE FOR SHOUTO TO WALK ON BY AND STOP TO LOOK”

lol and that’s literally the next three panels. but Horikoshi did add this extra bit after Endeavor starts to drag Shouto away

seriously Enji what the hell did you expect was going to happen here. “Touya went nuts and tried to kill his little brother out of jealousy, so let’s make it clearer than ever that Shouto is the important child and all the other children are just rejects. this will definitely not make the problem 100x worse, and will surely lead to Touya giving up and living a happy life, having been emotionally abandoned by the person he admired more than anyone.” good for you pal you figured it all out. no need for that plan b, “we all just go to therapy”

anyway so he’s telling Shouto he can’t play because he needs more endurance training. and meanwhile Touya’s patented Todoroki Drama Genes are going through puberty as well

definitely the face of a happy, emotionally stable child who’s not still plotting to murder his younger brother in his sleep

“WELL ACTUALLY MAKESTE” lol I stand corrected??

apparently during the five year interim Touya actually stopped blaming Shouto and realized Enji was the one at fault. good for him! a bit inconsistent, given what we know happens later, but I assume we’ll get to that in good time

anyway. “yeah man I agree that dad sucks, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m only eight and you’ve been monologuing for the past two hours bro”

LMAO

the manga is making my jokes for me, only better. fine then

looks like someone’s still miffed about that disagreement he had with his baby sister back when she was like four

“Fuyu doesn’t get properly riled up like I want her to so ranting to her is annoying.” okay but having been in Fuyu’s shoes, it really is just a different way of coping, and I can guarantee she’s not as fine with the whole situation as Touya might think. but making your peace with something is often a decision that’s made for emotional self-preservation reasons. and I sure as hell don’t fault her for trying to shut out a situation that she had no control over, and trying to make the best of it, and scrape together as normal a childhood as she could manage

and now in Touya’s defense as well, that is of course easier said than done, and I’m sure if there was a “push this button and instantly get over all of the trauma in your life” switch readily available for Touya then he would have pushed it too. unfortunately it’s not always that simple

so now Rei is pleading with Touya not to go train up on his little emo hill again, but it doesn’t seem like much has changed since he was eight

I don’t think he gives two figs about being a hero; he just wants his father to look at him again with pride. fucking hell, stop doing this to me you damn Todorokis

guh, they keep telling him the same thing over and over again

even if we hadn’t already known he was gonna go melt his jawbone off soon, I wouldn’t have expected a line like that to go over well

yep. fuck

that Todoroki puberty angst, though. nothing else quite like it

“you have a part in this too, Mom” ooooooh man

okay but look, he’s not entirely wrong. like, I’m not saying any of this is Rei’s fault at all! she’s in an impossible situation where she’s afraid to stand up to Enji (who by this point has shown that he’s willing to physically attack her if things get too heated, which is terrifying), and doesn’t really have anywhere to turn for support. her parents aren’t helping much if at all, and Japan in general is just a terrible country to be in when you’re in a domestic abuse situation. everyone’s expected to put on a brave face and deal with their problems all on their own in private. Rei is basically completely isolated at this point, and she doesn’t know what else to do, and so she’s just trying to keep the situation as stable as possible for the kids

but on the other hand, “for the kids” is also where that argument starts to break down a bit, because at this point Shouto is also being physically abused by his father, and the other kids are continuing to be neglected (emotionally if not physically), as they have been for years. so the situation really isn’t stable at all for them. and as a kid, what you end up learning in that type of situation is that you can’t rely on either parent. not the abusive one, certainly, but also not the other one who can’t protect you from any of it. even if they love you and they’re trying, they’re just as helpless as you. Rei is struggling to deal with all of this with one hand tied behind her back, and I get it, and I’m not blaming her at all. but all the same, particularly given that she’s (understandably) putting almost all her focus on Shouto, the end result is that the other kids have basically been left to fend for themselves

so yeah! a shitty situation all around. and one of those cases where it’s not really anyone’s fault (aside from Enji’s), but I can understand the resentment Touya is feeling all the same. and I’m so glad Horikoshi is acknowledging this, because it’s something I probably would have been too uncomfortable to bring up otherwise. as it is it’s still an incredibly heavy subject, and one that I probably have too many personal feelings about

anyway, so once again the whole “we’ll try talking to him and then just shrug our shoulders when it doesn’t work” parenting strategy doesn’t really pan out for the Todoroki fam

sob this boy is Anakin Skywalkering before our very eyes. all that’s missing is AFO to come and start whispering in his ear. any minute now...

“anyway so then he got taller and his fire changed from red to blue”

guess we’re getting pretty close then huh. this is the part of the flashback that I really don’t want to see, but also unfortunately the part that I’m most curious about :/

oh for fuck’s --

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IGNORING HIM FOR FIVE YEARS DIDN’T ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM” sob. back to the drawing board I guess

I thought he got taller, why is he still only like a third of Enji’s height here

oh fuck me these are armor-piercing feels. this is the heavy artillery right here

ENJI I’M BEGGING YOU PLEASE STOP AND THINK FOR ONE MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE BEFORE DOING SOMETHING YOU’LL REGRET FOR THE REST OF ALL TIME. your child just told you that he still thinks beating All Might is the only thing you care about, and that he believes his existence is a mistake unless he finds some way of doing that for you. please stop for a moment to contemplate that and choose your next words with care and grace and oh who the hell am I kidding

-- OR WE COULD JUST BLAME REI

go on and blame everyone but yourself then!! that’s a great solution!! jesus christ man I know this is Endeavor at his literal worst but still this is fucking hard to watch

POOR BABY SHOUTO IS YELLING AT HIS DAD NOT TO HIT HIS MOMMY THIS LITTLE BRAVE BOY NEEDS SO MANY HUGS OH MY GOD

AND MEANWHILE THE OTHERS ARE HUDDLED IN THE NEXT ROOM TRYING NOT TO CRY AH FUCK

(ETA: Fuyu covering Natsu’s ears cuts RIGHT TO THE CORE OF ME. Horikoshi if you’re really not gonna get these kids some therapy then at least consider giving your readers some. what is this.)

you know it’s bad when you’re starting to think the part where the kid burns to death might actually be a less traumatic thing to cut to right now

holy shit, actual Rei thoughts

“I was the one who ultimately made that choice” well there we go, wonder if that’ll put that whole argument to bed at last. I doubt it, but you never know. actually who am I kidding it’s not gonna settle jack shit lol

oh thank god, they decided it was getting too intense and cut away back to the present to narrate this next (final?) part

get ready to cue up that Alicia Keys. THIS BOY IS ON FIREEEEEEE

yeah I think that’s one thing we can mostly all agree on. neither of them had any clue what the fuck they were doing pretty much at any point. though I will say that the hypocrisy of him being all “WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HIM” followed by him IMMEDIATELY DOING THE EXACT SAME THING is a bit rich

(ETA: and he still has this problem, doesn’t he? he froze up when Ending snatched Natsuo, and again when Dabi was attacking Shouto. he’s so afraid of doing the wrong thing that he ends up not doing anything, which of course is exactly what led to Touya’s death. damn Enji I guess you’ve still got some additional character development to unlock.)

and of course neither of them could possibly have known how badly it was going to turn out. like, the consequences here were WAY disproportionate even for the shittiest of parenting. no one expects “I didn’t know how to talk to my son” to snowball into “my son burned to death and then somehow came back as a villain and murdered thirty people”

ohhhhhhhh fuck me

LITERALLY INCINERATED THE ENTIRE HILLSIDE. fuck. and I am so not ready for the scene of Enji finding the remains of his jawbone afterwards. at least we were spared anything super-graphic (for now at least)

I feel like the timeline here is off, btw?? wasn’t Touya’s death supposed to happen after Rei got hospitalized? this might be the first actual retcon of the entire flashback. although I think it makes more sense this way tbh

I do appreciate that ten years later Enji is finally reflecting on the fact that if he’d just given up his stupid obsession he could have stopped his family from crumbling apart. that probably sounds sarcastic as fuck, but it’s not. there are countless jerks out there who would have still managed to find a way to blame literally everyone and everything under the sun except for themselves. at least he finally figured out how to take responsibility, even if it came too late to stop his son from dying and being radicalized into a villain terrorist organization

and speaking of, it seems to me we’re missing a third and final part to this little tale of woe, and one which only Touya himself will be able to shed any light on. so we’ll see how that goes

oh man seeing the other kids blaming themselves even though none of it was their fault hits hard af. Rei wasn’t kidding when she said they’d been bearing that burden of guilt far longer than Enji

SHOUTO I SWEAR TO GOD IF THE NEXT PANEL IS YOU APOLOGIZING FOR BEING BORN, I WILL... WELL I’LL BE VERY SAD, I GUESS. SO DON’T DO IT

oh good he’s just being quiet. good. it absolutely is not your fault lil bean. it’s not theirs either, but feeling guilty about things that aren’t your fault is a time-honored shounen tradition

goddammit I braced myself for the angsty Shouto panel a page too early. gotta do it all over again now lol. okay here goes

;_;

well well well would you look at that

imagine that. talking things out with your child before they make a rash decision. looks like the Todorokis’ parenting skills are finally leveling up

OH MY GOD

holy shit. this is the most quintessential moment of father/son Todoroki bonding in the entire series. for me it even tops the “nice scar” scene lol. Enji sobbing at the fact that he still has a chance to set things right. and Shouto offering his hand in what is actually the most mature and selfless gesture I’ve ever seen, and being all “we’ll stop him together” to his dad who he hates, but also doesn’t really entirely hate anymore. and all of that is incredibly moving... BUT ALSO HE STILL REFUSES TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AND HE WOULD LIKE HIM TO STOP BEING SO FUCKING DRAMATIC ALREADY IF YOU DON’T MIND. “WHEN YOU’RE DONE CRYING...” fkjldsk

OH MY FUCKING LORD

(ETA: wouldn’t be a Todoroki drama fest if there wasn’t somebody listening in on the whole thing in secret just around the corner lmao.)

“you think we should have waited somewhere else?” “yeah, probably.” “are you feeling a lot of secondhand embarrassment too?” “god, you have no idea.” STFU HAWKS IT’S NOT EMBARASSING TO BE MOVED TO TEARS BY YOUR FAMILY ALL COMING TOGETHER IN YOUR DARKEST HOUR TO GIVE YOU HOPE THAT YOU PROBABLY DON’T DESERVE BUT ARE NONETHELESS INDESCRIBABLY GRATEFUL FOR

and anyway you chose these guys as your found family, bucko. too late to back out now. next time go get yourself adopted by the Iidas then

AND MEANWHILE NO WORD ON THE WHOLE “HOW DID A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SURVIVE A FIRE THAT COVERED HIS BODY WITH HORRIFIC SCARS AND MELTED HIS JAW OFF, AND HOW DID HE SOMEHOW THEN MANAGE TO GO INTO HIDING FOR TEN WHOLE YEARS, AND WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT INTERIM TO CHANGE HIS GOAL FROM ‘SURPASS ALL MIGHT TO IMPRESS MY DAD’ TO ‘KILL ALL HEROES TO MAKE MY DAD SUFFER’.” as if we don’t know the answer to that. but still, would it kill Horikoshi to just confirm AFO’s involvement in all of this already. at this point it’s basically just a formality

so here’s hoping next week we’ll either get that, or more Hawks action, or (DARE I EVEN SUGGEST, I’M AFRAID TO JINX IT) finally cut back to Bakugou and Deku and All Might omg. either way I’m hyped

[edwardelricsrightarm]

"A lesson without pain is meaningless. For you cannot gain anything without sacrificing something else in return, but once you have overcome it and made it your own...you will gain an irreplaceable fullmetal heart." - Edward Elric

In honor of disability month and the FMA 20 year anniversary I wanted to address some Thoughts™️ about the series.

It's not often you see a disabled protagonist in media where their disability is integral to the story without taking up their entire character, even more so with anime. Yet, Fullmetal Alchemist has not just one disabled Protagonist, but two. The Elric Brothers are an exemplary representation of disability in media that I find myself reflecting on often as a disabled person myself. If you haven't completed the manga or Brotherhood, skip this as it will be brimming with spoilers.

(Mangahood will be my point of reference because while 03 is good on its own merits it's not as fresh within my immediate memory, and I am far less familiar with it. Keep this in mind, I've watched FMAB 10 and a half times whereas I've finished 03 only once years ago.)

The story highlights their disabilities immediately, Edward being a double amputee and Alphonse being without his ENTIRE body, only having the senses of proprioception, sight, and hearing left. Yet, despite this being key to the story and an integral part of their characterization, it is only one facet of their motivations and doesn't take center in the narrative, which is refreshing. It's not inherently negative to make a narrative centered on the characters' disabilities, but often this model of a story goes very wrong very fast and starts to feel hollow (no pun intended). FMA avoids this by making their disabilities a clear part of the plot and their motivations without allowing it to consume the entire story, so the Elric Brothers don't suffer the "my disability is all of my character" problem that many disabled characters are relegated to in a vast portion of media, all while being strong and competent.

Recap:

The brothers wished to revive their mother, but their good intentions cannot change the atrocity of their mistake, Truth makes this abundantly clear from the start. Edward loses his leg first, a punishment for "stepping" into God's shoes and transgressing the place of humans in their world. Alphonse loses his entire body, unable to feel any warmth or simple comforts like food and rest, when all he wanted was to feel the warmth and comfort of his mother's embrace again. At first, Alphonse's entire being is consumed by the gate, but Edward acts immediately, refusing to lose his little brother and refusing to allow his arrogance in this plan to cause his brother's death for only following his lead. Edward gives his right arm to have the gate give back Alphonse's soul, and stated clearly in his panic that he'd give his entire self to save Alphonse if that's what it would take, but Truth took his dominant arm only, showing something akin to mercy, although the character of Truth is capriciously strict and hard to describe as "merciful".

Through giving up his right arm, Edward regains his Right Hand Man, his little brother and best friend. His only remaining family, who he feels responsible for protecting in the absence of their parents. He felt immediately that he'd made a grave mistake, instantly full of regret as he realized the gate had taken his brother. In that moment he was willing to give anything to take it back and undo the suffering his arrogance caused his brother, yet Alphonse was still to suffer more to come. Ed tied Alphonse's disembodied soul to one of Hohenheim's collected suits of armor, managing to at least keep his brother alive in some way. One could say that Alphonse's punishment functioned as a secondary punishment for Edward, showing him how easily his hubris could have cost him what he has left in his obsession with regaining what they'd lost, their mother. A very clear symbolic reminder of the weight of his actions and how he'd misled his brother in his own naive ignorance. Even in giving another limb away to drag his brother's soul back out of the gate, he couldn't offer enough to bring him back intact. Thus is the law of equivalent exchange.

Now that we've reviewed some of that basic symbolism and the motifs the story draws upon with limbs and body parts in relation to characters, let's move on to each individual brother and break it down, shall we?

Edward Elric is a very realistic protagonist, this is one thing a majority of us familiar with this series can agree upon. He feels like a believable teen boy, with layers of complexity to his character while also showing arrogance and immaturity that is unsurprising at his age. He expresses unwillingness to kill and avoidance of unjust violence from the beginning, and has a strong moral code after the ordeal of committing the taboo.

In some characters his cocky personality would typically become grating, yet the story explains in itself why he is this way, then builds upon this to develop him into an incredibly mature character who is willing to admit when he's absolutely wrong and adapts to new information and context for the crisis unfolding around him as it comes, even if he remains crass. This arrogance is shown from the start to be a manifestation of insecurity, self loathing, and repressed guilt. Edward is a logic driven person, he has a very unique thought process, which is where my interpretation of him as autistic comes in. Edward's awkward social demeanor, somewhat abrasive and cold approach to some, and his trouble coping with nonsensical societal structures all stand out in this way. Furthermore he clearly shows hyperfixation, hyperactivity, special interest, and infodumping behaviors that are all too familiar. He's picky with food (*cough* the milk thing), has very little filter and speaks his mind bluntly even if this can warrant conflicting responses, yet at the same time struggles with vulnerable emotions, and he is frustrated when his own routine or itinerary are interrupted by forces beyond his control. All of these things Scream autism with comorbid ADHD. Many traits are shared between the brothers, and I'm quite certain they're both on the autism spectrum based on behavioral patterns. Neurodivergence aside, Edward's physical disabilities are undeniable.

Despite his bratty persona, Edward is fundamentally kind and uncharacteristically gentle and soft around the edges for a shonen protagonist in many ways. He cries openly on many occasions even if he struggles talking about his trauma and burdens in words at times, he feels pain, grief, and compassion so intensely it throws him into action on a regular basis in the narrative. In this way he's also a fantastic example of non-toxic masculinity (though in other ways he has displayed more toxic traits, he's just a kid). He acts on his heart, even if he's led by his mind and logic in most things. His humanity, value for life, and care for others will always win over his logic, and he shows a sense of personal responsibility for doing the right thing even if it harms him in the process. Ed is clearly shown having ghost pains in his lost limbs which is honestly an interesting detail to include, I don't think I've ever seen that aspect of amputation shown in media aside from FMA. It's also shown that when Ed's automail arm breaks this is a HUGE problem for him, but he's also shown to be very good at working around this in difficult circumstances. He doesn't become completely helpless, even if majorly weakened.

Alphonse is an extremely lovable and compassionate boy, brimming with altruism and care for others. Even in his noncorporeal state he pursues a better future and he's not helpless by any stretch. Edward clearly states Alphonse is the superior fighter for example, and it's not just because of his armor body being so large. He's *talented*, that's a fact. Al is every bit as clever and capable as Ed, moreso in some ways, and I love that about his character *because* he's so clearly disabled. He has no sense of pain, he is completely incapable of sleeping, he can't eat, can't relax or find comfort, he can only exist and think. This causes him to overthink in all his time alone, this is debilitating. He clearly is absolutely sick of the loneliness this causes, and he often feels helpless though he's not. He has doubts and fears that consume him in relation to his armor body, he questions his own personhood, even. Yet, Edward is stubborn and staunch in affirming that no matter what he's dealing with, he is fundamentally still a human being that is loved and irreplaceable. Alphonse is powerful and his body gives him some advantages, but it also sets him back, and the brothers know this even when others claim Alphonse's state is somehow a good thing. I have hEDS, a disability that comes with advantages as well as the major downsides, so I can understand and relate to Alphonse here. I too am told my disability is a boon because of flexibility and because I'm less likely to fracture bones, but I'm twice as likely to injure my ligaments and joints, which people ignore.

The brothers are both disabled, both flawed, both show weaknesses, but they are competent, determined, and strong in their own right. They are rounded characters that exist for more than to be pitied or condescended to by able bodied characters around them. They put their entire being in everything that they do no matter what that is, and they don't know the meaning of giving up. These traits that they're made of truly make them a shining example of disability in protagonists for others to look to for reference when writing their own disabled characters.

Even though by the end Edward has regained one limb and Al has regained his body, this also doesn't just deus ex machina reverse their disability or make it go away. It's clear that Alphonse's body is weak and has to be rehabilitated upon recovery, and Edward is still missing his leg and bears the scars and pieces of the port from his automail arm. They weren't suddenly made able bodied upon recovering these things, they reclaimed what was lost through struggle and grit, but the narrative didn't give the impression that their disability in itself was something to be fixed, which is important. They wanted to recover their bodies, but this doesn't erase the effects of their disability.

It was about Edward atoning for leading Alphonse into their mistake and saving his brother from suffering further, it was about them proving they can keep moving forward no matter what, not about getting rid of their disability in itself or putting themselves down because of the disabilities. This, to me, as a mentally and physically disabled viewer, is so important. They achieve their goal, but this doesn't in any way erase or undo the effects of their initial losses, they find ways to adapt and move on but they're still affected and still disabled. They always will be. That can be so important to see in comfort characters, and as a disabled individual who's had both brothers as comfort characters since I was a child, their impact on my own journey is surprisingly tangible for fiction.

[bokettochild]

Hmmm if you need ideas I always love cultural difference shenanigans so maybe Twilight and Hyrule or Warriors and Hyrule having jarringly different cultures?

I didn't really touch on cultures much, since I'm still learning a lot about the games in general, but here's three boys discussing the educational systems of their respective provinces!

(Asks are open still, if anyone wants a story, feel free to request it! I will try my best! (Crossovers aren't off the table, but I can't promise I'll write them))

From Ordon to Catalia

“So, you’re telling me,” Warriors states disbelievingly. “That you, the Hero of Hyrule, couldn’t even speak Hylian until mere months before you saved the kingdom?”

The traveler nods, a faint flush dusting over his browned cheeks at Warriors’ question.

Twilight shakes his head, a smile on his face. “Who’da thunk it? Chin up traveler, I didn’t even live in Hyrule when I saved it.”

“What?” Warriors turns to him, royal blue flickering with disbelief as he stares from one country hero to the other. “Seriously? Both of you?”

“Well,” Hyrule tugs at one of his curls, eyes glistening with mischief as he speaks. “I mean, Legend saved like, four other countries, and he wasn’t from any of them.”

“But the first country he saved was Hyrule.” Warriors asserts. “And at least he was sent to the other places or something, unlike you two.” The captain stares from one to the other. “Traveling through the kingdom and just happening to run into the Royal Nursemaid?” He turns to Twilight, disbelief still written clear on his face. “And chasing monsters, if I recall correctly. What the heck, guys?”

He can’t help but take a bit of pity on Warriors, the captain has only ever been outside of his Hyrule’s main areas when time traveling, and the poor man clearly has little to no familiarity with the provinces and kingdoms beyond his own home, save for whatever rich and stuffy nobles talk about when royalty from the other kingdoms comes to visit. But even so, Wars lacks the faintest clue of the world outside of Hyrule’s borders, and that's just a little bit sad.

He leans back on the bed that he and Hyrule are sharing, it’s been a few weeks since they were last at an inn and he fully intends on enjoying the plush beds while they can, even if it is a bit too soft for his own comfort. “We could tell you more about them, if you like?”

At his side, Hyrule nods, smile bright if not a bit wistful. “I’m always willing to share about my home.”

Warriors hesitates, caught between disbelief and curiosity.

“I don’t think even Legend has been to Catalia.” Hyrule muses, but Twilight sees the sparkle in Hyrule’s eyes, he’s tempting the captain in a way the both of them know is sure to work.

“That so?” Warriors muses. “Well, I suppose so. Although,” He turns a cynical eye to Twilight. “I’m not sure how much I actually want to know about farm life.”

“Your loss, city boy.” He scoffs in response, a wolfish smile pulling at his features.

It’s nice, he thinks as he leans back further, letting Hyrule pull his thoughts together and Warriors shake off the surprise of their previous words, to just sit and talk with his brothers. Time and Legend have roomed with Wild so he doesn’t have to worry about the Cub making trouble without him there to watch him, and for the first time in a long tie he can just sit down and talk with his other brothers. He doesn’t know why Time let Four assign rooms like this, but he isn’t complaining if the others aren’t.

“Well, what would you like to hear about?”

Warriors frowns, staring at Hyrule for a moment as the Traveler flushes darker under his curls. Maybe the healer wasn’t as ready to talk as he first thought. “How about, your family, what sort of people are they?”

Hyrule stares at the captain disbelievingly for a moment. “You’ve met my mom, remember? And I don’t really remember much of my dad, he went missing when I was a kid.”

“Oh,” Warriors flushes, a strained smile taking over his features. ���Right.”

Hyrule giggles softly. “I’m not mad, Cap, just surprised that you forgot. Although to be fair, not many people probably think about it since I look like a Hylian.”

“Yeah, about that, how does that work?”

“Hylian father, I look more like him in this form. We may be from Catalia, but he was there entirely because he was fleeing the destruction of Hyrule. He met my mom in the Aver Forests, where she’d been wandering for the last few years. Great fairies can leave their pools if they so choose, but they do so rarely. Unfortunately, mom had too because of the increase of monsters in Hyrule.”

“What is the Aver Forest?”

“The biggest, lushest forest in all of Catalia!” Hyrule spread his arms wide as if to indicate how big it truly was. “I’m pretty sure it’s just the other side of the lost woods in my time, since it’s so close to the border. It nothing like Hyrule, but it is, was, home.”

“So, did yer ma follow you to Hyrule?”

“Not exactly.” The traveler replies with a small frown. “She came after Hyrule was made safer again. I can’t exactly leave the country freely anymore, so she came to see me. It’s a good thing too, since getting potions is far more difficult than just bathing in her pool.”

“Are potions really that expensive in your time?” Warriors asks, concern flecking his gentle gaze.

“It’s not about the price,” Hyrule frowns. “It’s more that most people don’t know how to brew them, and finding a person who can is difficult.”

“Ah, supply and demand.”

“Pardon, what?” The traveler looks up to the captain in confusion.

“Supply and demand, you know,” Wars states like it’s common knowledge. “When lots of people want something but only a few people can provide it? It’s the reason shops can get away with charging so much for things.”

Both country heroes stare at him.

“Have neither of you ever heard of it?” The captain blinks at them, leaning forwards on his bed. “How is that possible?”

“Not all provinces have a school, Wars.” He replies, chuckling softly at the surprise on Warriors’ face. “For farming communities we focus on animals and plants, don’t need no fancy education to plow a field.”

Hyrule stares between the two of them. “Alright, this might be a Hylian word I haven’t learned yet, but what is a scewl?”

“A what?” Warriors echoes, turning to face the traveler.

“A scewl?”

“A school?” Twilight translates, brow furrowed until the Hero of Hyrule nods in confirmation, after which he relaxes again. “It's a place people go to learn to read and write, and to count and do equations.”

“And here I thought there weren’t any in Ordon?” Warriors teases lightly.

“Get off it, Cap’. We don’t have schools, but we do have books, I know how to read and if I can learn more than I will.”

“Ah, self-taught?”

“Mostly.” He shrugs. “Hylian’s real different from Ordon-Standard, even if they’re essentially the same.”

“That makes no sense.” The captain deadpans, staring at him blankly.

“I mean, even though they have a lot in common, the way people speak and pronounce things, the vernacular and what not, is quite different that Hyrule proper.”

Hyrule blinks at the two of them owlishly. “What are equations?”

A glance is shared between them. “Math.” Warriors answers. “You know, adding, subtraction, multiplication and division?”

The traveler raises a brow, but he's shrinking in on himself in the way he does when he gets nervous. “What are those? Multipulycation and division?”

Warriors stares cautiously at the traveler, gaze gentle but concerned. “Hyrule, do you not know how to do math?”

“Do you know how to count?” Twilight tries instead.

“Of course!”

“Can you combine numbers?”

“That’s counting, but with bigger numbers.”

“Can you subtract it again?”

“Yes.” Hyrule answers slowly.

“Can you multiply?”

The traveler stares at Warriors nervously. “I just told you I don’t know what that is.”

The captain, bless his heart, looks genuinely hurt. “Good grief, what sort of mentor is Legend? Not making sure you know basic multiplication?”

And Hyrule flushes, but his brows furrow as he pushes himself straight, always defensive of his mentor. “He didn’t know, and he’s a great mentor! He’s been showing me how to grow trees!”

“Legend knows forestry?” The captain starts.

“He has an orchard.” Twilight reminds him, light laughter bubbling in his chest at the understanding that crosses Warriors’ face at the words.

“Right.” The captain turns to Hyrule. “How about this, Legend can teach whatever it is he teaches you, but when he’s done with that for the day, you come find me? Math is a wonderful thing, even if it is a tad complex, and it'd be a shame to let you go without knowing it.”

Betrayal makes itself known as Twilight pulls away from the two. “You like math?”

Horror blooms on Warriors’ delicate features. “You don’t?”

“Arithmetic is the bane of my existence and if I didn’t need to know how to count rupees, I would willingly forget it.” Twilight spits out.

“It’s wonderful!” Warriors defends. “Everything makes sense and has a logical explanation! You can count on it having an answer every time.”

One dark brow raises as midnight blue stare back at the captain, unimpressed. “Except when it doesn’t. Except when you have to graph equations but you can’t because they don’t have answers. Except when there’s two missing numbers and nothing fits in together, except when the numbers decide to become letters and you have to spit up the alphabet along with your equations.”

“How much math do you know?” Warriors raises a brow.

“Too much.” He isn’t even ashamed of the shudder that makes his pelt tickle against his cheeks. “Wild is a literal genius at it, and I can’t even number how many time he's decided to use it to explain some hare-brained scheme. Trajectory and angles and-” He shivers again. “No thank you. It’s like he ate a math textbook and just keeps spitting it back up, every time he wants to do something dumb.”

The captain whistles lowly, royal blue eyes sparkling. “You mean he has theories and reasoning behind all that? Dang!”

The glare shot the captain’s way is nothing short of threatening. “Do not encourage him, or so help me, Wars. I can hardly contain him some days as is, he doesn’t need someone else egging him on.”

“Oh, trust me,” Gloved hands raise in a non-threatening motion. “I just want to pic his brain, maybe he can help me tutor the traveler here.”

And Twilight almost asks him not too, almost begs that the captain not, before realization hits. “You know, that is actually a good idea.” He smirks. “I’m surprised.”

The deadpan look he receives is well worth it. “You wound me.”

“Were your skin not so delicate, I wouldn’t.” He returns, smile stretching wider. “But that aside, if Wild is busy tutoring Hyrule, he won’t be off blowing things up, and if Hyrule gets a better education out of it that's even better.”

“I’ll ask him about it.” Hyrule answers, eyes lighting up in a way that looks innocent, but considering the kid is Legend’s descendant there’s a very good chance that it isn’t fully. “Maybe he can teach me some tricks while he’s at it.”

“No!” The voices ring at once, but it’s already too late, Hyrule is tapping his chin and muttering low under his breath as a wide smile stretches over his face.

“What have you started.” Twilight whispers, horrified.

“I’m sorry.” Warriors returns, just as grim. “I won’t tell Legend if you don’t.”

[mariuscomehome]

//minor spoilers for marius character story chapter 2!!! and luke's chapter 2 as well oops

i was going to reblog this onto the moron post i made in the early hours of this morning but it quickly grew way beyond my original intentions, so im annexing it. i promise there's a funny conclusion just give it a little time !! why are there so many words ;-;

that post came about because i was thinking about nxx group dynamics, particularly marius (BIG SURPRISE LOL) and how from what we know of him he doesnt seem to have many close friends. if any. his schedule is incredibly packed from school, running pax, nxx investigations, and his own art, and we know he isn't getting enough sleep, (yknow what zak made a great post analyzing the boys schedules here ya go) to the point that he considers giving up art to make time for his other responsibilities. there's no way he has a social life - i'm sure he did, but it would have been the first thing to go, to make room for everything else in his life. every mention of him attending a social event, iirc, has been directly related to some kind of business venture or obligation, unless he's hanging out with mc, who seems to be the only person he's able (or willing) to make that kind of time for.

which is something he has in common with luke, it seems. lol.

IM PUTTING IN A READMORE THIS POST IS TOO DANG LONG LOL

back to marius. i need to do some more research on the timeline, but my understanding is that he was studying overseas and got called back when giann went missing, one or two years ago? to run pax. (which is the official story, more likely to me is that it was completely voluntary as he wanted to look into his brother's disappearance - was he involved with the nxx before then? had he already met artem and vyn, or no? if anyone knows the answers to these questions please please tell me). so in all likelihood he's left his entire social circle in florence, come back to hang out in an office all day, and then go sit in a meeting with vyn, his tutor, and artem, who is eight years older than him. i'm sure normally they get along just fine, but when does marius get to be a kid? when does he mess around with people his own age? he doesnt.

enter mc, who is much closer to him in age, and who he doesn't hesitate to joke around with. she must be a huge relief to him. and he met her right before being accused of murder. can he not rest??

pivot. we're talking about luke now. it goes without saying that luke is, has been, and will be going through some pretty heavy shit, and mc is simultaneously a huge reprieve from that and a bludgeon that he uses to destroy himself emotionally at every single opportunity. the whiplash is insane he's like "haha this is great i'm in love with you and you are my best friend and i am going to die forever changing the trajectory of your life, hurting you and that's unforgivable and i should stay away from you but i can't because i'm a terrible selfish person- haha what's that? no i'm fine! how are you?" i hate him.

yeah so then it's like when does luke get a break? huh? we know he has aaron, who is really good for him and helping him work through his stuff, but his stuff is irreparably tied to his complex feelings about mc and his own mortality etc, etc, and also aaron is literally his doctor. every single one of their conversations is like "luke, try harder" "no. im gonna die soon." "you will with that attitude i will FIX YOU MYSELF, STOP BEING LIKE THIS." "..... still got that expiry date tho" like even the person who is arguably the best for luke's mental state, actually understands what is going on with him and is actively trying to help him at every opportunity to the point of literally robbing him and sending him on a.. scavenger hunt.... aaron what are you doing

luke literally cannot escape his issues. marius cannot escape his work. i think they should, (after spending enough time around each other to kind of figure each other out, become immune to the other's specific brand of annoying, stop being jealous at how effortlessly close the other is to mc- look it might take a little time) be friends, and find that kind of respite in each other, where their other obligations just aren't even relevant and they can just kind of let the facade fall away and do whatever. they're closer in age and they both need more time to be young and impulsive and have other people who they can do that with.

i think they should be stupid young men who do stupid things. they roughhouse. they both like... extreme sports? i think? they drink together. marius, who knows the perfect amount of wine to drink to get just tipsy enough at a work function. luke, who knows where to buy the best, cheapest beer. swapping beverages and immediately getting piss drunk and calling mc together to tell her that shes missing out, she should have come with them, boo, and its four in the morning and she only picks up because she woke up early to add six pages to a report thats due on artems desk at seven, and she still pretends to get annoyed at them but shes really just happy to see them getting along.

vyn, luke, and marius being left alone in the nxx meeting room for some reason. by the end of it, the table is broken clean in two. luke and marius both blame vyn, who asserts that he never touched that table, but doesn't directly disagree with them and offers to buy a new one. (HE'S SO OMINOUS....)

the new table has wheels so when marius and mc get to a meeting early, he tries to lean on it while he's flirting and ends up on his ass. he sprawls out on the floor and tries to keep going as though this was totally intentional (because mc is laughing and its worth it), but of course luke walks in and he gets soooo embarrassed.

let them be morons!!!

[misterewrites]

Mystery at the Salt-Irons

Hey everyone! E here with a new chapter! kept you waiting huh? Haha sorry it's been a busy few weeks. Nothing serious but I had to keep starting and stopping this chapter so it threw me off but it's here, it's ready and I hope you enjoy it!

I have some special guests in this story, some ocs made by my friends because you know what I can so I will and honestly, they were really great oc ideas guys. so keep an eye out for @hains-mae and Biz_fantasist  OC(I don’t know if she has a tumblr but it’s late so I’ll edit it later) 

That's it for me! I hope you are all stay safe, keep your loved ones safe, wash your hands, wear your masks, push to give everyone the vaccine cuz this is getting ridiculous. I hope you have a great week, thank you for reading. I deeply appreciate and feel free to share it with your friends, give me feedback. Reblog and comments all that fun stuff! Thanks and I'll see you soon!

Here’s the chapter over at Ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/85394095

Here’s the story from the beginning if you’re curious what this is about

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

and here’s a list of all my work both original and the various fandoms I write for

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/works

Summary:  Finnrick is called to solve a mysterious case as per his job as the city's only Private Investigator wizard but as he sinks deeper into the case, the more it seems that something is happening behind the scenes. Of course with an old friend in town and dark magic surrounding the case, Finnrick is as busy as ever. Ain't no rest for the wicked.

-----

The Salt-Iron Flats weren’t anything special on the surface: An unassuming apartment complex on the north side of Newton Haven, the only thing most people remembered about the place was how the price tag hurt their souls.

Of course, unlike the general housing market, the Salt-Irons (affectionately referred to by the locals) actually had a very reasonable reason for fetching such a high rate: The salt and cold iron baked into every single brick that formed the building.

If you weren’t in the magical know, you’d think it utterly insane that you’d be forced to pay such a large amount of cash because some weirdo decided to make a new age artistic statement with bricks. Of course, if you are aware of the greater community at large, you’d knew you were paying the insanely large sum because someone decided to make the Salt-Irons the single most protective location in the city.

Most mortals have forgotten their history, their lore and collective knowledge passed down throughout the generations: Why their ancestors used to place lines of salt in front of the door and windows, why the elders always suggested to the braver, recklessly youthful family members to carry iron whenever they ventured through the wild.

Outer beings were repelled by salt and iron. No one really had an idea why fae, angels and demons weren’t fond of salt or iron and there's been plenty of arguing about the subject but all in all the fact remained they did not do well when faced with either.

That was the main reason Finnrick didn’t find himself in the north side of town often.

Well that and the zealous Gate Keepers. Those guys were freaks but between them and the Salt-Irons being the only supernatural community up here, Finn never got a case from the area.

Until today.

The Salt-Irons were great at protecting you from any outside threats that wished you ill will: It didn’t protect you from anything you decided to bring in with you.

It was five in the morning when Finnrick got the call. The M.R.R.D representative didn’t have much to offer beyond the address and floor but he thanked her all the same.

Finnrick yawned tiredly, stretching the tension out of his neck while he sipped his coffee. He let out a sigh of relief as the sun slowly rose into the sky.

The Salt-Irons was a twelve story tall building painted a ghastly pale green that made Finnrick sick just looking at it.

“People are paying how much to live in that shade? I’d ask for discount if I were them.” Finnrick laughing to himself, making his way into the apartment complex.

Luckily the interior was much nicer than the outside: Everything was well kept and cleaned. Not a single speck of dust in sight and the wooden stairs didn’t creak when Finnrick placed his foot on them.

Which was good given Finnrick needed to go up seven flights of stairs.

Finnrick wheezed a little, wiping the sweat from his brow when he reached the seventh floor. He glanced down the hall one way then the other as he began to search for room 707 which basic deductive reasoning suggested should be around the corner.

Finnrick crushed the empty foam cup and tucked it into his coat pocket as he made his way to 707. It was a simple wooden door and immaculately spotless just like the rest of the place. He rose his hand and gently rapped on the door.

No response.

He frowned, checking if he was still alone in the empty hallway and rose his hand towards the door frame.

His eyes glowed with a blue energy as he whispered softly “Revelis”

The door gleamed with a bluish hue for a moment before fading away without a trace.

No protective spells laced over the frame so the only thing Finn had to worry about now if it was locked.

He tried the knob, unsurprised when it swung open silently.

“It’s not breaking and entering if someone’s expecting you” Finnrick justified to himself as he pushed the door in.

He nearly staggered backwards: The air tasted thick and foul like something had been left rotting inside. His skin prickled with anxiety, a chill running down his spine with each step he took further in.

Finnrick took deep, calming breathes while doing his best to ignore the bitter taste that seem to cling the air within.

He noticed the trail of footsteps, perfectly preserved in what appeared to be black dust leading deeper into the living room.

“Hey da! You here?” Finnrick called out, carefully stepping closer “You and ma still married?”

There was a deep grunt of acknowledgment before a voice responded “Sorry son, we’re divorced now. She got custody of you.”

“Well fuck. I guess I’m going to be eating kale and poorly cooked spinach for the rest of my life.”

Garrus Valka was not in fact Finnrick’s father, adoptive or otherwise. He was actually one of the highest ranked officers of the Magical Rapid Response Department: An elf clocking in at 200 years old with richly tanned skin. His bluish gray hair was slicked back in his preferred style. Garrus’s had his back turned to the detective but Finn knew his sliverish gray eyes were deep in concentration as he took down notes about the surroundings. His beautifully inhuman features were marred with a scar on the right side of his face: burnt skin on his cheek, healed by time and various surgeries. An old war wound though Finn never got the full story.

He was dressed in typical M.R.R.D fashion: Dark blue windbreaker, jeans and a blue shirt with the words “Powered by coffee and spite” splashed across the front. His Winchester rifle was slung across his back, ready for any action that may befall the elf.

“Drift.” Garrus greeted teasingly while offering a hand.

Finnrick gave it a playful shake “Da. So is mom here or she trying to smite pigeons again?”

“THEY TRIED TO STEAL MY HOTDOG!” Garrus’s partner Eden screamed from another room “I SHALL BRING MY GOD’S WRATH UPON THEM!”

“You know when they mean justice.” Finnrick called out “I don’t think they mean against winged rats.”

Eden chuckled darkly “You know not their sins.”

“Okay.” Finnrick nodded despite the fact she couldn’t see him “If you say so. What happened Da? Aside powerful necromancy.”

“Powerful necromancy” Garrus replied cheekily “and missing persons.”

Finnrick rose an eyebrow “Persons? More than one?”

“Two: A father and son. Richard Charles and his son Richard Jr. Recluses it seems. Neighbors hardly saw them. Mostly kept to themselves.”

Finnrick pursed his lips thoughtfully “Any magical abilities?”

“They’re not on records if that’s what you mean.” Garrus answered “Never signed up in the academy, not registered with The Council. If they were practitioners they didn’t tell anyone.”

“So what was the spell? I just smell the remnants of spookiness.”

“Hadn’t noticed the rest of the room huh?”

Finnrick frowned before finally getting a good look at the rest of the room: Every inch of the apartment was blanketed with the same black dust that he found in the entrance way. Inches and inches of the substance and that wasn’t the strangest part.

Everything was bent at different and odd angles: chair with crooked legs, the wall clock warped and twisted, the fridge leaning like someone folded it in half. Floorboard reached for the sky and walls split inward.

There was a common misconception about magic. Most people thought spell casters, especially wizards, could command reality to their wills. That magic was capable of impossible feats and it was as simple as snapping your fingers.

The truth was all magic, ranging from divinity to free range nature, was performed on a micro scale. Practitioners did not alter reality but rather shortcut it. Throwing fireballs was as simple as rapidly heating the air until it combusted. Turning invisible was less about vanishing completely as it was bending the light around you to not be seen. Magic was rooted in reality and imagination. If you had the magical strength to perform the magic, the magic often followed your lead.

Of course there were spells that required much more than magical hand and willpower. Powerful magic, like summoning outer beings or raising an army of zombies, required both time and materials. Magic was like any other energy: you needed enough of it to perform what you wanted. The human body could only generate so much magic without dying and resting was necessary to replace any expended in the use of spells. Materials were guidelines for the spell. Feathers for anything with flight, ash for fireballs etc etc.

The other thing needed was to gather energy and store it for the spell’s use. There were different ways to achieve this: Wands, talismans, potions were basically magic soups. The most efficient way to gather energy was the wizards preferred way: Circles.

Finnrick eyed the room closely this time, murmuring under his breath about angles and trajectory. Garrus paid him no mind, well familiar with the private investigators methods.

“If this went like that” he gestured to the wall clock “and that went here.”

Finnrick glanced about, carefully walking about as if worried he was going to step on a landmine.

“Here.” Finnrick found himself staring at a spot in the middle of the room “Ventus.”

He gestured with a hand and light breeze filled the room. It brushed away some of the dust covering floor, revealing the outline of a half melted metal ring.

“What is it?” Garrus turned curiously

“Spell circle. The source of the explosion. I’m willing to bet it’s custom made. Copper, steel. Maybe some bits of tin couldn’t stand the surge.”

“No iron or sliver?”

Finnrick shook his head “That’s for containing or repelling monsters. Necromancy is more about drawing in the evil entities. Or sucking out life.”

Garrus sighed tiredly “Don’t touch?”

“Only if you want to live to see retirement. Might have some pent up magic ready to blow outwards.”

“Understood. I’ll call in our guys. I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

Finn nodded gratefully while pulling out a vial and motioning to the elf “Mind if I do?”

“Be my guest, you might find something we’d miss.”

Finnrick smiled gratefully before scooping up some of the dust and sealing it within the vial.

“Take care Garrus, stop fighting birds Ma!”

“Flying rats!”

-----

The cafe was lively despite being early but that was no surprise given it was Mother’s. Mother’s was the single best food establishment in all Newton Haven and if anyone disagreed, they were allowed to have their opinions.

They were also allowed to be wrong.

Finnrick paused in the doorway, breathing in the scent of well cooked eggs and sweet lemonade. The pop and sizzle of heated grease brought a sense of comfort to the hard working private investigator.

“Finny Drift!” Maddie Copperstone called from behind the counter “How’s my favorite customer holding up?”

Maddie was 40 years young with tastefully curled dark brown hair. Human, little on the short side but fierce. She wore a simple red blouse and jeans, both stained with flour that the apron around her waist did not prevent.

Finnrick bounced over cheerfully, reaching over the counter to give the matron the biggest hug he could muster “I’m good Maddie. Working a case.”

Maddie’s brown eyes searched his face carefully “You always working Finny. You resting as much?”

“Scout’s honor.”

Maddie let out a disbelieving chuckle “You weren’t ever a Scout.”

“Honorary scout after I stopped that bear from eating them.”

“Thought it was a giant raccoon.”

“Yes but people don’t take giant raccoon seriously. He here?”

Maddie clicked her tongue disappointingly but motioned to the booth at the far end of the establishment “Rest.”

Finnrick rose his hand in surrender “After.”

“Never you mean!” Maddie shouted after him.

Amos Frye hadn’t changed much since last he was roaming around Finnrick’s neck of the woods: Handsome with soft gray eyes that reminded Finn of gathering storm clouds. His long black hair was tied in a messy bun held up by a golden pin, a braided strand hung loosely near his face. His beard was much shorter than what Finnrick remembered though he noted the unkempt split ends indicated that Amos hadn’t trimmed it in a few weeks. His iconic dark red sleeveless jerkin and black jean combination would look ridiculous on a lesser man but had allowed the monster hunter to show off his muscular frame. His brown skin was a bit more pale than usual so no doubt Amos had been operating at night lately.

“Finnrick, you cheeky bastard! I am so glad you came!” Amos beamed happily, his various bangles and bracelets clinking together in equally joyous celebration as the two shook hands.

“Amos! Happy to see you.” Finn beamed brightly as he slid into the booth across his old friend “Why though? Family trouble?”

Amos’s joyfully gleam turned dark for a moment.

“No. Have you…?”

Finnrick shook his head quickly “Not a word. Sorry, I hadn’t meant to…”

Amos waved the apology away “No worries cuz. I understand why you’d think that. Coming across the pond isn’t a spur of the moment thing and Os has always been the black sheep of the family. I suppose no news is good news.”

“Right.” Finnrick cleared his throat awkwardly “So what’s the trouble? I doubt you’d call me up for a nip and chat.”

“Rightly so.” Amos confirmed, reaching into the bag at his side and pulling out a folder “Hunting business as usual cuz.”

That made sense: Amos was the latest of a long family whose specialized business was monster hunting. The Fryes had been striking at things that went bump in the night for centuries ever since the first Frye defended the folk of some underground society.

Amos was an average wizard if Finnrick was being generous. That was not a slight against his old friend, it was a matter of fact: Amos spent most of his time honing the physical aspects of his profession which was obvious given the size of his arms. Any spells he knew were purely for defensive or preventive measures so he often communicated with Finnrick for higher quality and complex spellwork.

Finnrick took the folder from Amos and began pouring over its contents.

Most were quickly scrawled notes Amos had noticed about his quarry: Long sliver hairs, canine in nature. Large paw prints found in the areas it had been sighted, far too big to any natural wolf. Wulfvur and werewolf were hastily written and as quickly crossed out. A pattern of hanging out in wild areas, often forests and swamps.

There were pictures too: flashes of sliver, blurs of fangs and muzzles darting in and out of camera frame. It was always a distance away, sprinting deeper into the wildness. It was hard to tell from the photos but Finn guessed it might’ve been 10 feet tall at the very least.

“Why we hunting wolves now?” Finnrick asked curiously.

Amos flagged down the waitress “Contract given to my pa. It was hanging around the marsh lands of the jolly old isles. Someone wanted it gone.”

Something wasn’t clicking with Finn “and you followed it here? From England?”

“Nah cuz” Amos gave a cheeky grin “I tackled it through a portal and found I illegally crossed into America.”

“Ah.” Finnrick nodded in understanding “Fae.”

“Fae?” Amos frowned thoughtfully “I thought that too but I never heard of any snarling wolfie breaking into homes and snatching out wee younglings in them old folktales.”

“Fae are weird.” Finnrick shrugged “Their whole shtick is not making any sense. I had to expel a cat the size of a bus once. Double decker tall.”

Amos whistled in appreciation as he scratched his bread “So fae. Slippy fellow as you can tell. Whatcha recommend?”

“What’s the contract?”

“Banishment. It’s looking like wolfie ended up in the wrong part of town.”

“I think you mean next town over. Fixed a pattern yet?”

“Not yet but I wasn’t looking for one.” Amos admitted “Thought I was tracking some mutant. Fae changes a lot. Magical circles?”

“Easiest way to catch it.” Finnrick agreed “Sliver for sure. Iron would hurt it and based on your files, it hasn’t done anything than thin the local wildlife population. No need to anger mister big bad wolf.”

“Good call. I got some talent to handle a few circles but tracking is not really my speed.”

“I’m on a case but if you swing by the M.R.R.D, maybe they’ll loan you a wizard.”

Amos let out a disappointed sigh “I need to take care this sometime this year Finny. Bloody bureaucracy probably set me back a month at least.”

“There’s always Jaime but she’s pretty busy at work.”

“Jaime huh?” Amos smiled mischievously “I haven’t talked to your sister in a long time.”

“I will curse you.” Finnrick playfully threatened “And not no simple hex either. I’ll make you bald.”

Amos gasped dramatically, clutching at his hair protectively “You wouldn’t dare mate.”

“Shinier than the sun.”

“Okay, okay” Amos conceded “I’m kidding. She’s with Casey anyway. Good couple. Cute couple. He still hopelessly selfless and she still trying to fast track her way to power?”

“Yep.”

“You gonna fix that?”

Finnrick shook his head “It’s their lives. Their choices.”

“Idiots.” Amos chuckled “the lot of them.”

“All you need is love?”

“Spoken true the gospel of my land.”

-----

A few hours later with a brainstorm session completed and a promise to help out the next day, Finnrick left Amos to his work and continued with his own.

It was noon now and as the sun rose high in the sky, Finnrick found himself at the Grimyard.

The Grimyard was the premiere spot for all things magical in Newton Haven: Rows and rows of shops specifically catering to the magic community. The streets were paved with century old cobblestone and the buildings here were various hues of faded brick and mortar. It was easy to get lost in the Grimyard if it was your first time as the Grimyard did not spread out, it stacked downward. Layers upon layers of the Grimyard were actually underground to allow those with issues against the sun to sell their goods and services at all times of the day. Don’t let the dark fool you, anyone with worthy talent or product was here in the Grimyard.

Normally Finnrick would wander around a bit, checking out the various businesses and protective wards around the mile long patch of land but he was on the clock and the sooner he began to figure out what was going on, the sooner he could stop it.

Luckily for him, his destination was right here on the top floor of the marketplace. Specifically furthest back corner.

Knightly Ore was ran by the Knight family. Originally they only sold rare metals and ores which were necessary components for some of the more complicated magicks. At some point the owners expanded into selling more alchemical materials and eventually brewing potions, salves and such for a fee.

Despite decent business, it was the most rundown building in this part of the Grimyard: Broken window shudders with the paint faded down to the original shade when the business first opened decades ago. The humble black door was crooked and creaked whenever it moved

Finnrick knew the owners fairly well but here wasn’t here for them. He was here to see their son.

He pushed past the building, ducking into the alley that led to the lot directly behind the shop.

“Halt!” A voice called out “Who seeks the Brewmaster of the Grimyard?”

“It is I, Finnrick the detective. I got money and I need work done”

The Brewmaster was Theodore Knight, an incredibly talented alchemist who didn’t have the same opportunities Finnrick did: He was pretty tall for his age (14 or 15, Finnrick lost track once or twice) but clearly a teenager given his short lavender hair had a few strands dyed red. His eyes were an unnatural pale blue, paler than the blue of the sky. He wore the usual attire Finn often found him in: A sleeveless dark blue hoodie with a fist sized red gem clasped in front just under his neck and a lighter shade blue t-shirt. He wore black finger-less gloves gripping his brown messenger bag slung around his shoulder. A matching brown pouch hung around the waist of his gray cargo shorts and his brown boots were kept clean despite his place of business was in an alley behind his parents shop.

Theo jumped out from a hidden shadowy corner of the lot “Finn, whatcha got for me now?”

Finnrick reached into his pocket, showing the eager teen the vial that held blacken dust within.

“That’s it?” Theo scoffed, rolling his eyes “I was expecting something…...cooler.”

He took the vial and raised it to the sun. Theo gave it a rough shake and watched it carefully for any properties the strange substance would display.

Theo frowned, clearly unsatisfied by what he saw “You brought me ash? Plain ash? It’s your money but even I think it’s a waste.”

“It’s ash?”

Theo shot the detective a look that screamed how obvious it should’ve been “Yes, ash. Thicker than what I’ve seen but ash all the same.”

Finnrick bit his cheek thoughtfully.

“Look Finn, you know my rates. I dunno what you want me to do but standard fees apply.”

“I’ll paying double.”

The Brewmaster’s eyes narrowed suspiciously “Double for ash? What’s so special about it?”

“Oh nothing." Finnrick pretended to look disinterested “Aside it was taken directly from a crime scene: Necromancy and cast via a half melted spell circle.”

It took Theo a minute to allow the implications of what Finnrick said to sink in. His eyes shifted from suspicion to wild excitement.

“Really?!” Theo clutched the vial like it was his first born child “Necromancy really doesn’t like many alchemy processes. It’s not going to be easy for me.”

“I know right?” Finnrick grinned impishly “It’s almost like I’m going to have to pay double for it.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to….” Theo pouted unhappily “Ha freaking ha. Okay smart guy, pay up.”

Finnrick handed over 50 gold. Theo took it eagerly, his eyes lightening up with glee.

Theo paused for a moment, his face turning oddly serious for a teenager.

“It might take me awhile depending on what you want.”

“I want to know what’s in it. Necromancy requires specific ingredients. After that it’ll be easier to track the seller.”

“And the buyer!” Theo blurted out excitedly “Smart.”

Finnrick ruffled his hair playfully “I wish I thought of it. You keep this up and you’re going to run me out of business.”

“I’ll text you when I have something.”

“Pleasure as always Theo.”

“It’s Brewmaster.”

-----

It was 2 in the afternoon when Finnrick made his way back to the Salt-Iron. He stood outside the complex, tossing the remains of his pizza into his waiting maw and crumpling the can of soda he was drinking before tucking into his coat pocket.

“What’s this?” Finnrick asked, utterly confused by the crushed foam cup he pulled from within “Oh right my coffee. I’ve been really at today.”

Finnrick wiped his hands clean and made his way inside the Salt-Iron once more, mulling over the details of the case as he ascended up the stairway.

Blacken ash cast by a spell circle. Both father and son missing with no indication where they went too. Recluses and rarely seen. Necromancy within a threshold.

It was hard to tell how deeply the father and son were involved in spell. Someone who had access to the apartment was behind it no doubt. Spell circles were the most consistent way to cast magic but they took time to build, set and channel energy. You didn’t build a spell circle without knowing exactly what you plan to do with it.

The nature of the magic was also a mystery: Dark magic had various applications and not a single one was good. Finnrick hadn’t much experience with that branch of magic but there was nothing logical about the aftereffects: Ash spread throughout the apartment, clinging to everything like a second skin. There was no signs of an outward blast given that nothing bent in the same direction. Everything in that room decided to twist in whatever wayit felt like. If the spell was supposed to draw in something then chair legs and wall tiles would’ve been pulled directly towards the circle.

“Curiouser and curiouser Alice” Finnrick spoke to no one in particular.

He was on the fifth floor when he noticed something odd.

Finnrick raised an eyebrow as the skies outside the window darken, black and stormy.

A thunderstorm it seems.

Finnrick peered out the window, glancing upwards to see what was going on.

Dark clouds swirled directly overhead. Rain began to lightly drizzle as the skies boomed. Thunder and a moment later lightning trailing across the gathering storm.

A thunderstorm that formed directly above this building.

Without warning.

“Well that’s not ominous.”

Finnrick made the mistake of leaning closer to the window, peering around to see if he could see where exactly the storm was coming from when it happened.

“Watch out below!”

Finnrick noticed three things in that moment: First, was of course, someone shouting to watch out below. Second was the distant sound of claws scratching something wooden, the walls perhaps. Lastly was the thudding of something falling down quickly and towards him.

Finnrick rose his hand, pivoting on his heels in time to see something crash into him.

It wasn’t much of a contest: Both Finnrick and whatever slammed into him broke through the fifth story window and went sprawling into a freefall.

[hollyhomburg]

Reasons Wretched and Divine (Pt. 6) (Yoonminjoon x Reader)

Genre: hybrid au, polyamory au, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Pregnancy, Mafia au

Parings: Snake hybrid! Yoongi x Dog hybrid! Jimin x Dog hybrid! Namjoon x Pregnant! Reader, Platonic Vmin, allusions to 2seok,

Summary: After years of abuse, you’ve all finally found each other. But for one of you- the fear still lingers, hidden in the shadows. Yoongi doesn't want much, just a few more weeks, but he only has until the end of the summer. 

Tags: Hurt/comfort, physical abuse, polyamory negotiations, Post-traumatic stress disorder, low self-worth, bonding over trauma, themes of healing, mute characters, scent-marking, brief gore, themes of deception, complex characters 

W/c: 10.6k

Song Rec: Hozier ~ Eden

Series Masterlist 

An informative bulletin on Hybrid sense of Smell:

Out of all of the positives that hybrids inherit from their animal dna- their sense of smell is simply unparalleled. It’s one of the more peculiar and therefore interesting subsets of hybrid behavior. Hybrid sense of smell is just like any of the other senses though, in terms of the amount of sensory information contained, it is more on par with sight than the fragile human nose. It is possible that the vast majority of hybrid to hybrid communication is completely pheromonal. most scent glands are found on the wrists and neck.  

When an owner or human initially comes into contact with a hybrid, the flush of new sensory information will be hard to parse out for most hybrids (and all but those with the most sensitive smell). At first, a hybrid will only be able to sense if you are feeling “good” or “bad” the same way we can often only tell when food smells good or bad. 

But as time goes on, and hybrids become more accustomed to the particular hormonal balance of their humans they become more adept at deciphering their emotional state through their scent. Eventually, a person smelling simply ‘happy’ or ‘sad’ becomes “amused” and “contemplative” or any other host of emotions.  This is one of the reasons why hybrids make intense emotional partners, as hybrids become accustomed to their owners or pack mates and they become extremely attuned. Some hybrids are even able to smell their female owner's ovulation cycle and if they’re pregnant before the owner themselves. 

Scent is one of the most highly individualized parts of hybrid society, with no two hybrids smelling exactly the same (some exceptions can be made for close siblings and twins) scent-marking behavior is something commonly seen only between hybrids and their owners, as well as between hybrids in the same pack. As scent-marking leaves sort of an imprint of hybrid's emotional state on their partner. It is also a nonverbal queue for other hybrids “this person makes me very happy- please be kind to them for me” or “this is my human, please stay away” a negative impression will also be left on a human if they cause a hybrid distress.

Of course, certain species hybrids are more adept at this kind of empathy than others, with rabbit hybrids having the most sensitive sense of smell and therefore pungent scents, and most exotic hybrids including bird hybrids and snake hybrids, having a less sensitive nose and more mild scents which are harder to discern.

Many other tidbits of information can be conveyed through scents, weather a possible partner will be compatible for a heat/rut cycle, if they are upset and if they are injured or hurt, and their emotional state. There is even some debate that deception can be gleaned through scent (but that claim will need further research).

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- You wake with a start, started into wakefulness by a piercing shriek and then shouting. Out of all of the times you’ve suddenly woken out of a dead sleep this is by far the least violent. There isn’t anyone in your room but you, the covers overly warm, golden early morning light seeping through the windows, peaceful and idyllic. 

- it isn’t one of the times that your late husband had dragged you out of the bed, kicking and screaming because he’d found something on your phone, a strange charge on your credit card, or woken to the feel of him above you, or woken to his screaming at Namjoon. 

- You tell yourself that it’s just any other day, that this morning isn’t one of those. but your heart dosent understands that. thundering, your hands shaking. 

- The days when you wake up slowly in Namjoon’s arms- those are the best mornings. But Namjoon isn’t next to you- and somehow your heart won’t start shuddering. Namjoon isn’t here and you want him there and your mind somewhere else entirely as you shakily exit your bedroom, tying your robe around you deftly. 

- One benefit of living in an old house is that you can hear nearly everything that goes on, and you can hear Jimin's words below you “Yoongi- don’t look” 

- Sometimes- you still have days where you hate your bedroom. Days where you won’t cross over the threshold with Namjoon already there, his every presence comforting to you- willing away any bad thought that might arise, any trigger or memory. You’d painted the walls a different color- the dark green changed to a light pastel blue- but some of the memories still linger even though it looks different and far warmer than it did when it was your husband's old bedroom.

- Most of the positive change has to do with Namjoon’s presence, the countless pillows that he likes to sleep with, the fluffy throws, his organized but slightly wry shirts in your open closet, his small stack of parenting books by your dresser. It might be the same room you were hurt in, but it feels different most of the time, especially when you’ve got namjoon all stretched out in your bed, All of the peace you have starts and ends with Namjoon.

- But maybe that’s changing, maybe you find a certain calm in Yoongi and Jimin too. Jimin is the first one you see, sending you a panicked glance as Namjoon cleans his face of blood, trying to stand in front of Yoongi for whatever reason the snake hybrid looking a little paler than usual.

- You stumble to the bottom of the stairs in your thick fluffy robe, some of your hair sticking up at the back. You take one good look at the snake, rub your eyes a bit, and then turn to the cat hybrid sprawled in the grass. Your eyes are steely, unflinching as you help her up, ask if she’s okay. All the while, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jimin blink back the sleep from their eyes, not knowing what to do about the snake, hanging flayed open on your front door.  

- You take one long look at the snake too. All of you silent for a moment before you jump into action. “We’ll get this cleaned up before you get back with the others, wake Taehyung too if you wouldn’t mind? Tell him I’m calling a meeting before breakfast to make sure no one slips away for chores.”

- That Jimin understands, Many a time had he seen the younger and teenaged hybrids leave the table the second their plates where finished. Though he has to admit- this feels less like a prank gone wrong and more like I direct threat with the way Yoongi is blinking behind Namjoon, the other hybrid talking to him in his low voice. Hands out like they might touch him, Namjoon’s tail hanging low between his legs.

- You’re just about to turn away when Jimin grabs your arm. “There’s something you should know,” he’s quick to explain what happened last night, who kicked him out of his bed and the reason why he’d been asleep on your couch. Your mouth turns down the more he talks. “Bring Minhyung too okay? Are you okay lovely?” you keep Jimin’s hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

- The cat smooth’s out a wrinkle in her skirt and clears her butt of any dirt that might have gotten on it when she’d fallen backward, her tail flicks agitatedly “I’m okay miss, it just gave me a fright.”

- “I can’t imagine how none of us heard anything,” Namjoon says- finishing cleaning the blood from his face, thanking Yoongi for the towel. He looks a little shaken but mostly all right. “I know” Jimin agrees- “it was barely 10 feet from me and I didn’t hear it.” You grimace, still looking at the door and the snake, Namjoon finished wiping the blood off his face and you gesture for the rag.

- Jimin steps up “I’ll do it- you don’t have too” surprisingly the nail isn’t that deeply driven into the wood once Jimin gets over his initial squeamishness over handling the dead animal. Namjoon heads off as soon after Jimin gets it free to bury it in the garden. Still in his pajamas. You usher Yoongi upstairs while Jimin cleans the door of blood.

- You’ve been in Yoongi’s room a handful of times (when it was just your husband's house it used to be an office) but the dark blue walls fit Yoongi better now. His queen mattress pushed in the corner, an old ladder that Yoongi had repurposed hanging with half a dozen thick blankets and fluffy duvets, assorted space heaters and fans sitting on the desk pushed up against the foot of his bed. It’s cozy mostly- the curtains all drawn so the room feels more like a den or a cave. Dark- but warm and comforting, it feels safe even. 

- Now that Yoongi’s away from the others it looks like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, raking his fingers through his hair and twitching a little, He can’t relax or standstill. You set a cup of coffee for him on his bedside table and linger. Unsure if you don’t want to leave him alone or if he wants to be to regroup for a second. “Yoongi” he turns and looks at you, and sometimes- like this time. It almost seems like Yoongi wants to say something to you- but just- can’t get the words out.

- You wonder more than you’d care to admit- if his muteness is selective or something physical. Namjoon wonders too, what his voice sounds like if his laugh is more of a giggle like Jimin’s or something crackling like Nam Joon.  “Do you-“ a little noise stops you, Yoongi’s hands clench and unclench by his side.

-  You reach out a hand unthinking, stopping a second before you actually cup his cheek. You and Yoongi are no stranger to almost touches, especially on his good days. Many times you’ve felt the almost brush of his hand on your lower back when you stand, sometimes you actually do feel it. 

-  You were no stranger to slight touches either, always in the secluded privacy of your garden or the house when it’s late and the curtains are drawn. In front of namjoon too. You’d linked pinky’s more than once over a bed of flowers when you were taking a break. as he fed you a sweet strawberry or green beans from the garden. The pad of his finger lingering on your lower lip for just a second too long to not be intentional.

- But never had you initiated the touch, not like this. Your hand cups his cheek and Yoongi leans into it, eyes fluttering closed. The bags under his eyes are almost black-purple. The scales under his chin feel cool under your fingers, only slightly smoother and cooler than the rest of his skin. 

- You’d asked Namjoon about it, pacing in your room after one day when you’d seen Namjoon watch you and Yoongi with a strange look on his face. You didn’t want to do anything that made him uncomfortable. At the end of the day, it will always be Namjoon. You won’t leave him or hurt him- not ever if you can help it. Thought at the beginning, you feared you could hurt him by accident with Yoongi. 

- It was back when your baby bump had barely been visible- not like now when even your baggiest dresses barely conceal your bump. Nothing but a strategically placed pillow concealing Namjoon’s nakedness as he laid back in your bed late at night. Namjoon scrolling through his phone (new, a gift from you. though it will only last about a week until he decideds to try and ‘wash’ off the dirt that got on it and compeltly ruin it)

- You’d had minor disagreements over other hybrids in the past. Namjoon was mostly okay with you giving out pets like they’re one-dollar bills at the strip club. And was equally as nonplussed when some of the younger hybrids that don’t know any better cuddled close enough to you that you ended up smelling like them. But there had been one incident where one of the older canine hybrids had mistakenly scent marked you.

- Namjoon had been a little angry growling at you the second he’d smelled the fox’s scent on you and demanding you shower. Rightfully upset, he’d explained that that was practically a claiming mark. He’d been touchy and a little bit grumpy the rest of the week, an arm thrown around your waist whenever the other hybrid was around.  

- But Yoongi Doesn’t seem to upset him in the same way. “I don’t get what you’re so worried about- it’s fine- it’s not like he’s not part of our pack or a stranger.”

- You’d stopped where you’d been pacing a hole in your carpet. “What do you mean- apart of the same pack?” Namjoon sighed, tossing his phone to the side (he doesn’t quite understand that he needs to be gentle with it yet). “it’s like- it’s not the same as if it was a random farmer across the street- because it’s Yoongi and he’s one of us, it doesn’t make me feel possessive because he’s mine too you know?”

- They had been getting close recently, there aren’t many hybrids at the farm yet, and Yoongi, Taehyung, and Seokjin are the only ones who’ve stayed any length of time you’d consider significant. You’d woken alone late at night a few times in the last week and gone down to the living room lower level only to find Namjoon and Yoongi asleep on opposite ends of the couch.

- “But he’s not a canine hybrid Joonie? Don’t you only form pack bonds with other dog hybrids?” Namjoon shaking his head, ears flapping a little, “not at all, though it is rarer- and Yoongi won’t exactly feel it the same way I do, he’s still apart of this too.”

- It hits you like a truck, “you mean- you love him too?”

- You’d been meaning to ask Namjoon- if the pack bonds now extended to Jimin too, you had a feeling they did but it was probably better to ask…before anything more significant happens.

- You know that Yoongi is okay with touch as long as it’s not skin on skin and if he can control it. But you can’t not offer the affection now- not when you think it might help- not when Yoongi looks like he’s about ready to jump out of his skin with how afraid he is.

- You can tell his whole body is shivering but he doesn’t move to pull away when you lift up your other hand to slowly cup his cheek. He doesn’t move away when you get up on your tippy-toes to press your lips to his forehead. He smells soft and sweet like freshly done laundry. His hands come up too, loosely settling around your waist like he’s not sure he wants to pull you in for a hug yet.

- “We’ll get to the bottom of this yoongi, I promise” you give him one shorter squeeze and then separate. And Yoongi looks like he wants to keep holding you and also like he doesn’t. So you figure it’s best. You hover in the doorway, “take your time coming down today okay? We’ll have the meeting and then we can have breakfast up here if you’re not feeling up to being around the others today.”

- Your front door is clean, the light blue wood spotless when you come down the stairs, and By that time the cat hybrids have already returned to the kitchen. after changing into a loose knee-length dress, spotted with little flowers. It’s too hot for anything-tight today- but with your growing bump- everything feels tight. You’re only a few weeks away from the end of your second trimester, and you’re thankful that so far- you haven’t felt much morning sickness. You think you have a doctor’s visit later this week though- you’ll have to ask namjoon, he’s better at remembering that sort of thing than you are.

- One hybrid comes through the backdoor with a clutch of eggs from the chicken coop, the egg basket piled high, Jimin is with them too- holding a few eggs in his shirt- held out tight to make a basket, the cat hybrid smiles at you, “got almost 3 dozen today miss!”

- “Perfect for the frittata?” Jimin asks, unsure. “Quiche.” you and the cat hybrid correct at the same time. The three of you filing into the kitchen, Jimin careful not to break the eggs.

- A certain sleepy wolf hybrid is already sitting at your prep table, looking nervous, his scent souring when he sees you and Jimin. Jimin stays, this time crossing his arms and leaning up against the cabinets to watch Minhyung squirm. You sit down at the prep table across from him and pour him a cup of tea.

- He looks worried- sending a glance back and forth to Jimin and then to you. He knows what he did last night was wrong- and though Jimin can’t see any snake’s blood underneath his fingernails, the suspicion and dislike of the wolf hybrid still linger.

- But he doesn’t look like he’s trying to conceal anything. He just looks scared, eyes flicking from hybrid to hybrid, to the door and then the window and anywhere but at you and Jimin. Before the conversation’s even started, Jimin’s suspicion dissipates. While he agrees that Minhyung may be a dick, Jimin can’t believe that a hybrid would do this- they all know what discrimination feels like. Which is what makes their distaste of Yoongi particularly abhorrent.  

- “I hear you have a certain problem with how I treat Yoongi, Minhyung. Would you like to elaborate? Or maybe explain why you kicked Jimin out of the bunk room last night? Or why you left a snake nailed to my front door-“

- “What?! I didn’t- I promise that wasn’t me,” Minhyung is smart- he understands what the commotion this morning was about. By now Taehyung must have woken everyone up- must have already told everyone about the meeting. Jimin doesn’t know if they’ve ever had one before, but judging by the general tense atmosphere in the kitchen alone- it must not be a regular occurrence.

- “I’m sorry,” he says, turning to Jimin, “I honestly thought you would be sleeping up here. I don’t sleep well and when you woke me up- I reacted badly.  I promise I’ll be kinder- just don’t- please don’t throw me out.”

- “It’s not up to me,” Jimin says, his voice small, he gives you a look- that he hopes you interpret as ‘it’s up to you- I’m done with this’ and leaves the room. Only to find Yoongi hovering just outside, hidden behind the wall listening in.

- Jimin hears you and Minhyung starting up the conversation again, mostly it's him speaking this time- talking about his old owner who used sleep deprivation as a tactic to make him obedient. You don’t say much, just listen sipping at your tea. Yoongi lifts a finger to his lips and hands Jimin a carefully folded piece of paper. “I don’t think it was him.” By now Jimin is used to the way Yoongi sometimes converses on paper when he needs to communicate.

- “Do you know who it was then?” Jimin whispers, Yoongi shakes his head, but there is something about the tilt of his eyes that Jimin can’t find it in him to trust. But if there is a reason that Yoongi has for lying to him- then Jimin will trust it’s a good reason.

- He goes back into the kitchen, summoning you; you stand and walk to the door so that you won’t be overheard. Teetering a little bit, you look a little shaky too like you aren’t quite awake. Maybe that’s it- or is there something else? A shakiness behind your eyes too? Jimin can’t decipher it. Minhyung stays there, sitting looking contrite and like he’s close to tears. Fiddling with his hands under the table.  

- “What are you going to do?” Jimin asks, Yoongi waiting too, his note crumpled in his fist. Namjoon comes thundering down the stairs in his work boots, looking intimidating as ever in all black. He must have snuck upstairs to change after he buried the snake in your garden. “I don’t know,” you say easily, crossing your arms over your baby bump, looking at Namjoon and sighing before you meet Jimin and Yoongi’s eyes. “Do you think he did it Yoongi?”

- Yoongi shakes his head, pursing his lips and Jimin decides that damn- he’s either a convincing liar or what he noticed earlier was just something else. Maybe Yoongi feeling uncomfortable. The buttons on his usual linen button-down aren’t buttoned right and his hair doesn’t have that usual perfectly swept out of his face look. Jimin is the only one still in his pajamas (which actually belongs to Yoongi) but he’ll try to change during the meeting.

- “If I throw him out there is a chance I could be punishing someone innocent, and if I let him stay there is a chance he could be guilty” Namjoon sits across the armrest of the old couch. “You’ve never thrown out someone before,” he says, bending down to tie his work boots.

- “No,” you say, eyes sharp on Namjoon, “but I’ve let you do it.”

- Namjoon freezes, standing up looking contrite, “I didn’t know you knew about that” Yoongi sends Jimin a panicked look; worried they’re about to witness some sort of fight between the two of you.  But you just raise an eyebrow at Namjoon looking more tired than annoyed. “I’m not angry, but this should always be a joint decision,” you fiddle with Namjoon’s sleeve, tenderly smoothing over the edge of it. “So it’s settled then?”

- “This isn’t only our home anymore” you peer into the kitchen, keeping part of your body hidden by the wall. Minhyung still sits hands underneath his thighs, his head snaps up, black ears still buried in his hair. “You can stay, I trust you know that if anything else happens…” you trail off, he scrambles up from the prep-table. “Well, I trust you’ll have more sense than that.”

- He scrambles up from the prep-table. Minhyung almost breaks his back bowing to you, promising that he won’t do anything, that he’ll be the perfect hybrid again and again before he’s off down the hill- back to change out of his pajamas.

- It’s a humid day out and it isn’t even sunny, the moisture in the air oppressive. The hybrids are sleepy- hair and ears ruffled from sleep, some of them in work clothes and some of them still in their pajamas.

- Jimin sees one of the little ones make grabby arms at Seokjin (who looks clean pressed as ever) and the alpaca hybrid heaves the young one up into his arms, where it promptly closes its eyes and leans on his wide shoulder- the perfect place for a nap. Seokjin blushes when the new hybrid from a few weeks back, the otter Hoseok, comes over to coo at the little doe hybrid. His hands smoothing up and down her spine.

- Someone gets you a step stool and though Namjoon makes a face- he lets you use it to climb up onto a table. His hands anxiously hovering around your waist to make sure you won’t fall, he whines. But you ignore his instincts to be overprotective. Jimin can see the tension in Namjoon’s arms- he seems so worried that you’re going to fall- it’s almost cute.

- “This morning, a snake was nailed to my front door.” This is greeted by a few murmurs, nervous glances, and internal cringes. You hold up a hand, and the gathered hybrids all fall silent again. “You should all understand what safety means for a hybrid, and the fact that you would make one of your own feel unsafe and unwelcome- it hurts me. Because I obviously haven’t done a good enough job of taking care of you if you’re lashing out at one of your own. Yoongi is not to blame for your hurt.”  

- Jimin is impressed by the way that you command their attention, The surrounding hybrids look scared; some look contrite, but most just look uncomfortable at being called out. They all know that Yoongi staying up in the main house and not in the barns isn’t a result of favoritism, but a necessity because of his inability to regulate his own body temperature. And even if you were playing favorites- it’s not like you don’t do the same with Namjoon?

- “If anyone has any complaints or is upset by the way I treat any one of you- you should come to me and talk about it. Not take it out on each other or my front door for that matter.” that gets a few chuckles out of the crowd. And it’s mostly the cat hybrids that have left the dishes in the kitchen to simmer rather than miss your announcement.

- After the meeting and breakfast, the four of you linger in the lower level of your house. The cleanup crew already blasting country music in your kitchen, and Jimin can see every twang of the country music irritates Yoongi and Namjoon

- Namjoon even making a small noise and rubbing his ears. You sigh, straightening out your dress on the bottom step, your hands shake a little. And you’re not the only one, Yoongi sits, his shoulders hunched. It only takes one glance up at them all for you to stop. Setting your sun hat back on the hook.

- “You know what- fuck this. We need to get out of here today.”

- All of you piling into your beat-up red truck, the same one Jimin had come to the farm in. Namjoon runs back in at the last moment to grab your purse. Yoongi and Jimin in the back two seats, a little cramped. Namjoon gets the front on account of his long legs. None of you talk about a destination as you make a three-point turn rather than try and back out of your near mile-long driveway.

- Not one hybrid lounging in the fields or moving about had given them so much as a look when you’d drove down the long hill. Pausing at the end only because Taehyung was nearby, the hybrid calling to you and trotting over to lean at your car door, his smile as happy as ever. Bear ears flickering in the holes cut out of his baseball cap.

- “Want to come with?” you offer, but Taehyung just shakes his head, “Nah my queen needs me” he tilts his head back in the direction of the bee hutches. is it Jimin’s imagination, or do you look a little crestfallen? “Need anything?” you’d proffered. He’s so tall he has to slouch to be at face level with you. Taehyung doesn't ask where you’re going, only looks as Yoongi leans over the front seat to fiddle with the radio, as if judging how affected the snake hybrid is by what transpired this morning. he flicks from channel to channel trying to find a song he likes. “Nothing really, maybe some more jars for honey if you can find them?”

- You nod softly “that I can do.” Taehyung steps back and waves as you pull out of the gates of the farm. And Jimin feels anticipation build underneath his skin. He’d rarely ever been outside of his old home before and now- now he was leaving the farm too- the destination uncertain.

- “Please don’t speed,” Namjoon says, Yoongi leans back from the radio, finally settled on some song with a low thread beat, more musical than anything else. The snake seems to vibrate with the force of the music and between that, the sound of the engine, and the wind whipping through the open windows, Namjoon has to shout to be heard. The wind tickles, but it’s the only relief from the muggy June heat since your air-conditioning is busted.

- You smile at him lightly; at 10am on the dusty dirt road there isn’t a sing soul with you on the road. You gun it. Namjoon grips the handle on the roof looking green, but when jimin looks over and sees you and Yoongi smiling at Namjoon’s queasy ness- his anxiety dissipates. It doesn’t matter that your truck is rusty and that you’re barely going over 40 in a 35- to Namjoon, one mile over the speed limit is breaking the law. 

- You stop at the drive-through before you get on the highway, iced coffee for Yoongi, blended lemonade for Jimin, a hot chocolate for Namjoon (a travesty when it’s this hot) and an iced tea for you. The yellow lemons in your tea Jiggling with the ice as you hit potholes with little care for your truck. Yoongi leaning over periodically to change the song. Namjoon telling Jimin what genre is playing when he confesses he doesn’t know one, “is it jazz or ska?” Yoongi holds up two fingers- indicating the second choice, Namjoon nods. 

- You look over your shoulder- sharing a special secret glance with jimin, rolling your eyes a little. Now he understands why you rarely ever play music when you work- if you did yoongi would get up to change the music every few seconds. 

- “So where are we going?” you tap your fingers against the steering wheel, waiting to turn south onto the highway. “Probably not the beach, but maybe the State park? What do you think Joonie?”

- “I wouldn’t mind the state park, it’s got a pretty view” Jimin tries not to let his Disappointment show, especially when Namjoon turns to Jimin, sensing the whine that died in his throat. Yoongi nudges Jimin's foot with his own. The light turns green and you start to turn onto the highway. “I’ve never seen the ocean.”

- “What!?” you and Namjoon shout in tandem, you lurch to a dead stop, suddenly turning, around instead of just turning left. Yoongi turning to jimin mouth open.  “Yeah- I’d never- I’d only been outside of like one block before coming to you?” Yoongi shakes his head as you get going the opposite way on the highway- getting into the slow lane because your truck just can’t handle going over 60 no matter how much you want it to be able to do that. “You don’t have to” Jimin tries to say; you smile when you glance over your shoulder at him. “I’m already on the highway Jimin.”

- Jimin pretends it doesn’t make his heart hurt a little bit to see you change so easily for him, the truck thudding along. Yoongi holding out the last half of his ice coffee for Jimin to try, smiling when he makes a face at the bitterness. You hold out your ice tea too, trading it for a sip of Jimin’s frozen lemonade. Namjoon offering him, but you being a little snarky, “sorry babe but I don’t think anyone but you want a hot chocolate in the middle of June.”

- Namjoon turns his full lanky body in your direction, thighs bulging out on the pleather, tipping his back and out of the window. “It just makes me unique,” you swallow, and jimin sees how viscerally you’re affected by the long line of him stretched out in the front seat of your car.

- Yoongi’s writes something on his notepad and handing it over to Jimin. “Yoongi wants you to know that you’re as unique as a dog sticking his head out the window of a car.” Namjoon scoffs, you laugh, Namjoon’s smirk as he looks at Yoongi is shy, and Jimin knows how that feels- the pride you feel at being known enough to be teased. “At least I know the difference between Ska and jazz now, that has to count something for uniqueness.”

- Jimin scoffs, “you gonna keep an imaginary tally or something?” Namjoon flicks his ears in Jimin’s direction, grinning, happy to be teased. “Yes- we can keep track, start being really weird like cutting our shirts into crop tops and painting them and shit,” 

- “Oh please do that,” you say, and it’s a surprisingly attractive offer. Jimin has seen Namjoon’s stomach, all hard lines, and juicy skin when it pulls up or when it gets really hot and he takes off his shirt. And he can’t say he disagrees and judging by the high blush on Yoongi’s cheeks, he dosent either. All of you laugh with the way that Namjoon blushes and grumbles and fiddles with the edge of his shirt. The puppy is just too easy to tease. 

- After some prodding, Jimin is tempted to lean his head out of the window too, and when he does he has to admit- looking down the narrow stretch of highway, eyes watering, his ears getting battered like hell because of the wind.  It is worth it, his sensitive nose catching bits of something that smells like salt and fish the closer you get.

- Even Yoongi is tempted to do the same, though he might not get the same amount of joy the dog hybrids get from sticking their heads out the window. The wind sending his hair all windswept against his forehead. Curling because of the humidity. 

- Yoongi’s tongue sticks out a little, as a snake hybrid his sense of smell isn’t nearly as good as Namjoon and Jimin’s, but it’s better when he can taste the air, the saltiness thicker the closer you get to the coast. Namjoon and Jimin’s tails wag out a rhythm on the seats.

- The beach is absolutely beautiful, the waves rolling and curling light blue but stormy the further out you go, Namjoon leaves his workboots in your truck and Jimin gets his knees and shorts all dirty in the sea spray, Yoongi declining to join in the water, writes that the salt makes his scales feel sticky and sits in the sand with your and Jimin’s shoes. Content to lean back and watch.

- Namjoon holding your hand to keep you steady as you dip your feet into the spray, your dress wiping in the wind. Jimin going crazy with excitement for a moment before he kicks at the spray and chases a few seagulls. None of you brought your swimsuits but Jimin dunks his full body once you gesture for him to take off his shirt so it won't get wet. You and Namjoon seem to have enough fun just dipping your feet in the cold water- but Jimin can’t get enough of the ocean now that he’s seen it. The way the waves curl, the thunder, the sharpness of salt on his tongue.

- He gets to knee height, and then to stomach height, the water is cold and a little unpleasant, but it’s worth it for the way the small waves ripple around him. Looking down at his body in the sea spray Jimin realizes- he doesn’t have a single bruise left on his body. It’s been some time since he came to stay at the farm and besides a few scars and aches, he doesn’t have a single mark on his body from what happened to him.

- The marks that lie underneath his skin- on Jimin’s soul could never go away as easily as that- but for a moment, he lets himself believe that the water could wash away even the wounds unseen. The last few weeks have taught Jimin that it’s not that easy, but if grief is the cousin of healing then Jimin will let himself feel sad about this if it means he can hope that one day he’ll barely feel broken.

- When he submerges his body and feels the drag of the ocean out to see, he lets himself imagine that the ocean is taking something from him and dragging it to a deep place where it can weigh on him anymore. And maybe when he gets his head above water- he feels a tiny infinitesimal bit better. but only time will tell if it actually makes it better. Jimin is on his way to healing and he knows he only needs time. 

- When he gets back out, he almost stumbles in the surf and looks back at the beach, where the three of you are waiting for him. The three of you watch him separate himself from the waves. Your eyes going up and down his chest. Yoongi looking away after a moment. Writing on his pad of paper and scribbling it out angrily after a moment. Handing it over to Jimin

- “Feel better?” “Yeah- it’s” he shakes his body, ears flopping and sticking to his wet hair, the seawater beading in the sand. “It's nice in there. You should go in” “next time,” Yoongi writes. “You look a lot better Jiminie,” Namjoon says, handing over his flannel so that Jimin can use it to dry off. “What do you mean?” you stand to poke playfully at Jimin’s little poochy tummy, “you’ve gained a lot of weight you look healthy, I love it. ”

- He feels the fire in his cheeks, your words making his heart stutter. “Just one second” he turns away and hides his blush in Namjoon’s flannel, a high-pitched and very loud whine building in his chest or something like the need to scream swallowed by his throat because- ah fuck. He’s feeling something he shouldn’t be, isn’t he? But he must make some noise because you’re all laughing, Yoongi’s shoulders shaking as he hides his smile behind his hand.

- Before he’s turning back and handing it back to Namjoon face redder than a tomato. The other hybrid doesn’t say a thing about how it’s soaked in both water and Jimin’s scent, he Just ties it around his waist like Jimin’s scent clinging to him is the most natural thing in the world.

- You go back to the car so Namjoon can get his shoes, you talk about heading back but Yoongi isn’t ready to leave, wants to stay a little bit longer. You walk along the boardwalk; you buy some fried food that the three of you snack on, cyclone potatoes, and fried clams. Yoongi crunches into them happily, his cute little fang curling around his lip.

- Eventually, the boardwalk turns from games and restaurants into a small flea market, kitschy decorations, an overpriced Pepsi sign from the 1950s, a table made out of a glass coffin, curling horns mounted from some sort of creature. You mill about when your phone rings, shrill. “Hey Tae, what’s wrong?” you fiddle with a glass wall hanging; the stained glass fashioned to look like a cherry. Prattling onto Taehyung over the phone as Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin look through the tables of knickknacks.

- Yoongi eyes a silk dress shirt- Kind of garishly patterned. As behind them, a little girl points in their direction. There aren’t many other hybrids out on the boardwalk today, so Namjoon smiles at her, his scarred lip always moves a little less than the rest of his face, and the little girl’s mother pulls her closer and moves on quickly. Namjoon’s smile falls crestfallen.

- But as quick as the disquiet comes Yoongi is making him laugh by showing him a figurine- a piggybank that looks like a butt, the crack a hole for a coin. And the moment is forgotten. Most of the time- Jimin forgets what Namjoon must look like to the others, the scars that stretch, one from his jaw to halfway up to his cheek, another across and eye, and the newer one- from his chin to his lip.

- Jimin spies a weird metal holder, a sun on the front, mostly rusty, weird holes and test tubes set up so that they can stand in the holes. The man who runs the stand comes over to him.  He’s not unkind to them, seems to be something of an outcast himself with his tattoos and gauged piercings. He greets jimin with a wide smile. “It’s meant for flowers, the test tubes hold one a piece” Namjoon smiles at him too. Sidling up behind Jimin, putting a hand on his shoulder. Namjoon’s warmth splaying over half his back “how much is it?”

- By now it's no secret how much Jimin loves flowers, a love both of you share (Yoongi’s thing is more vegetables). “Namjoon you don’t have too- I don’t need it” he looks like he’s about to say something, Yoongi scrawling something but before either of them can say anything, you get off the phone a few feet away. Pinching the bridge of your nose and their attention is diverted.

- You look substantially more stressed and they don’t need to ask what happened. “Apparently everything goes to shit when we’re gone, but a fuse blew in the house and now none of the refrigerators are working. We also got another call but the old owners are gonna drop the hybrid off later tonight. And apparently, a goat got into the garden but Seokjin got to him before he’d done any damage.” Yoongi looks about ready to run back into the truck at that.

- “Probably because he was distracted running after that otter hybrid again” you slap Namjoon’s arm good-naturedly. “Hush they’ve got crushes, and you remember what that’s like right?” Namjoon glances at Jimin and then at Yoongi, “yeah- I think I do.”

- As you’re on the way out you pass by the fruit section of the flea market- the place that is more a farmers market at the edge of the boardwalk. “those watermelons look good” you divert your course, and Namjoon rolls his eyes, “next thing I know her cravings are going to have me putting watermelon in sour cream soon”

- “That doesn’t seem like a bad combination at all” Yoongi makes a disgusting face, suddenly freezing when he looks over your shoulder, someone walks close to him, nearly knocking into Yoongi and his scent, disquieted and afraid fluffs towards Namjoon and jimin, they hover- instantly surrounding Yoongi while you are unaware. 

- Which is fine- you’re not a hybrid and you can’t smell Yoongi’s distress like they can, you’re distracted by the lady who owns the stand coming upfront to greet you. Namjoon shrivels his nose, the smell of cigarettes permeating and making it hard for him to smell anything else.

- He tries to waves his hands and tell Namjoon and Jimin he’s fine but they won’t listen, the two of them stand on either side of him, staying close but not touching Yoongi- keeping anyone else in the crowd from coming close.

- You start talking to the woman who looks like she owns the stand. she gives one of the watermelons a hearty slap and yoongi flinches. She’s got long black hair and a wide smile- but she looks nice. She makes a wry comment about your baby bump and the watermelons, which you laugh about good naturedly about even if it is a little rude in Jimin’s opinion. Saying that you’re not at the true watermelon part of your pregnancy yet.

- In the end- you part with 10 (for everyone on the farm- it can never hurt to have easy snacks like watermelon in storage) and a half-bushel of their assorted vegetables. As much as you want to be completely self-sustainable your vegetable garden isn’t nearly ready to support every hungry mouth at the farm, and their English cucumbers are long and hard. You look happy to do business with them all said and done.  

- The lady directs one of her farm hands, a big burly man with a bunch of tattoos to help Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi carry them back and fort to your truck. Yoongi stops you when they’re finished. Shoving a note in your direction. “There’s something I want to go do, can you give me a second?”  

- You nod, already taking out your wallet. Behind the two of you Jimin sneaks a handful of grape tomatoes into his pocket- they’re still his favorite. “we’ll get a few snacks for the drive home, take your time” he tries to not take your money but you won’t take no for an answer. Eventually shoving it in the breast pocket of his linen shirt if he won’t take it with his hands. He grumbles, shoving the wad of 20’s deep in his pocket.

- The three of you don’t think anything of it at all. After all- snake hybrids have uniquely tricky scents to parse out. So it’s no wonder why Jimin and Namjoon don’t smell the distress coming from him still. You think you notice something- but you let it slide. You’re never one to let Yoongi’s sudden mood changes affect you or take them personally.

- Sometimes he just gets too overheated to process things right. And you can tell from the way he’s listless that he’s at least approaching overheating. Getting into the car with the air-conditioning will be good for him. You make a mental note to pick him up another ice coffee.

- But meanwhile- while you’re waiting in line at a fast-food stand, Namjoon grabbing a few bags of chips off of a rack and jimin screwing around with a soda dispenser- figuring out how many different types of soda he can fit in one cup. Yoongi is being thrown into the side of a truck with a loud clang. His back hitting it and then his head jarring painfully. The sound alone sending him reeling into the dirt. But the man doesn’t let him fall. A hand savagely yanking his hair back. The unwanted contact sending shivers all up and down his body.

- “And here I thought you’d be more careful not to come so close. Did you think no one here would recognize you? We knew you where here the second you stepped out of that shitty truck.”

- Yoongi blinks, trying to keep the black spots out of his eyes. And she’s right. He did know better, the beachfront has always been their territory. Yoongi remembers the days he’d sneaked out and walked down to the beach in the middle of the night. The only time he ever felt some semblance of freedom. As long as he remained unseen and unheard she didn’t care. But today he’d been the opposite of unseen.

- He can’t respond. And Knows better than to try. His owner has never been fond of Yoongi’s voice, and she’s trained him well enough to know not to use it ever in front of her, his whole body had almost jumped out of his skin when he’d seen her, and seen you in front of her. All of the protective instincts in his body screaming at him to get you away from her to get you away from danger.  

- Yoongi might be a liar, and a filthy double-crosser, worth every bit of ire and distrust from the other hybrids. He might not deserve your kindness or your care- not even a little bit and still, he’d never let anyone hurt you.

- She kicks off a crate of peaches; her black boots clicking on something metallic in the dust, cracking into one with a pop of her teeth into the tight skin. Coming close and getting in Yoongi’s face as the man holds him there for a second more, but then releases him. Both of them know they can’t rough Yoongi up like usual- any bruises would be too suspicious.

- “Did you like my little present this morning?” Yoongi flinches and she laughs. He’d suspected but hadn’t really known for sure if the message this morning was from her. But now he knows, he’s even more afraid than he was opening the door this morning. At least he’d come when called, Yoongi doesn’t want to think about what would have happened or what might have popped up on your front door had you gone somewhere else today.

- Yoongi is a good hybrid. Years of getting thrown into walls and slapped and kicked and burned by the stray end of a cigarette have trained him well, he always comes when he’s called.

- “You have until the end of the summer Yoongi- after that if you’re not back and with what I asked for, I’ll make sure that house goes up in flames.” She flicks a lighter, starting up a cigarette that makes Yoongi’s nose twinge uncomfortably. Bad memories. So many bad memories from looks like that as she puffs on her cigarette and blows the smoke in his face.

- “It’s a cute house, especially the garden. I didn’t know you had a thing for that- maybe I’ll have you grow some kale or vegan shit for me when you get back. And then I’ll really be like little miss high brow too huh? Looks like she eats healthy” Yoongi shakes and his owner laughs. So then she has been watching him. He doesn’t let himself wonder who at the farm might be there for a reason like Yoongi. What other snakes you might have in your garden.

- Yoongi can’t be there for long, can’t be absent. But he knew from the second he met his owner’s eyes over your shoulder that she would expect him to report back. That to not come when he was called would be as good as promising violent retribution, something far worse than a snake nailed to your front door.

- She leans in close to Yoongi, and Yoongi can’t resist leaning away, as she breathes the smoke in his face, his hands shaking at his sides. He watches her put out her cigarette in the peachy pink flesh of the peach wincing.

- He knows better than to talk back now or even squirm as she leans closer, barely a centimeter from his face. Even though a hook on the side of the truck is digging into the small of his back. “Remember little viper- if I see you so much as touch them- or let out even a fucking whisper- I’ll kill them in front of you then kill you myself”

- Yoongi understands- how could he not- he’s nothing more than her plaything- her spy. Yoongi wonders what she’d do if she knew he’d already broken the first rule. No touching though there had only been a few times, your hand on his arm when he was in the middle of a heat-induced meltdown, and this morning when you’d cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.

- Before anything else happens, 3 other men of her’s come around the corner of the truck, two of them hooding up the third who looks close to passing out. blood dripping down the side of his shirt. Yoongi has seen enough fights to know how someone looks when they’ve lost one. What’s more surprising is the fact that they’ve lost one here- the boardwalk is supposed to be his owner's territory. To touch her operation here- that means something significant, but even more strangely, his owner and her right-hand man don’t even look surprised.

- He struggles to put the situation together, Yoongi remembers one time when they were teenagers- back when it wasn’t his owner's gang, but her father’s. How he’d gone into a rage because some rival had decided to even vacation on their beaches- nearly unloading the full clip of a gun into their group in broad daylight.

- If they’re being pushed back- even to here, then there is something wrong- a rival gang or the police- whichever party had earned his owner's aggression this time, was surely soon to fall. But a gang war isn’t something that Yoongi’s ever seen. She fusses over the man two others holding him up, and Yoongi slides away, back into the crowd of the boardwalk. Knowing this time- he won’t be missed.

- Yoongi walks back to the car, telling himself to enjoy every minute that he has left. Because once the summer heat fades. He knows it’s all going to go away. As he walks, even as he knows there’s probably someone watching him. He stops in front of the flea market. His feet unable to take him closer to you, the closer he gets- the less safe you are. and still- he wants to be close to you- for just a little longer, so that he knows what it’s like.  

- To have a pack, a family, people who care about him and love him. Before he goes back to how he lived before he wants you to know that he loves you, loves Namjoon and Jiminie too. That he would stay if he could. 

- He might not be able to touch any of the people he wants to touch in the way that he wants or say the words that he wants to say, but he can show you all that you mean to him. At least now- before time runs out and it’s too late.

- Maybe some acts of defiance are less about trying to live, and more about making sure you have a chance to live before his misdeeds eventually catch up with him. And if anyone is deserving of some sort of karmic judgment It’s Yoongi.

- He hopes you won't hate him when you find out- if you ever do.

- It’s worth it- it’s all worth it to see the way that Jimin’s ears perk up when Yoongi brings back the flower holder from the stand for him, that and a silk bandana for Namjoon to keep his hair back when he’s working, and the little wall trinket you were looking at. stained glass cut in the shape of a pair of cherries. (He won’t know- but later- you’ll hang it in the window of the nursery of your and Namjoon’s room)

- The puppy holds the flower holder in his lap the whole ride home. Nearly getting his chubby finger stuck in one of the test tubes at one point. That nearly makes Yoongi laugh out loud. As you wind your way back to the farm, snacking on fried dough and blooming onions making Namjoon’s breath stinky enough that you press on his chest when he leans in for a kiss and eventually relents when he lets out a heartbreaking wine.

- Yoongi doesn’t let himself dream for more of this- because however long he gets he know he won't deserve it either way- he doesn’t deserve a single act of kindness from you. Let alone the kind of care and love you’ve all shown him. He just closes his eyes, leans his cheek against the open window, and lets his soul rest. Just for a little longer. All he needs is a little longer.

- Yoongi lies to himself and tells himself that the summer will be enough.

- Later that night, You’re already underneath your covers, turning restless in your too warm sheets. Namjoon lingers in the bathroom brushing his teeth. “Did you notice something strange with Yoongi today?”

- “No- why?” you fiddle with the edge of your coverlet. 

- “He seemed super tense on the way how and somehow I got it into my head that there was something more wrong with him than usual” Namjoon sets a glass of water for you on your bedside table pulls himself over the top of your bedspread. Pressing a toothpasty kiss to your mouth that makes you smile. His hand coming up to cradle your hip, thumb rubbing wide strokes over your baby bump.

- He always gets this look in his eyes. A little lost in his own love when he looks at you late at night like this. You pepper a kiss down his cheek and over his scar, making his face twitch a little-you know it tickles in the same way he knows you’re teasing him- just a little. “If you want to go check on him, I don’t mind.”

- Namjoon’s point is clear, the emphasis on check you know what he means and what he wants. The emphasis on hybrid pack dynamics, that it really wouldn’t be strange to Namjoon If you went to Yoongi’s room…and ended up spending a little time there. If anything- it probably seems weird to him if you haven’t.

- You let the moment slide, lean over to turn off the light, and kiss Namjoon a little more, his lips are hot but gentle on yours. Taking the time to kiss you without a rush for more, nipping at your neck once before he settles in- you’re getting into the stage of your pregnancy where its hard to lay on your side too much so instead- Namjoon mimics your usual position, his leg slung over your thighs, head tucked close to your shoulder.

- And he makes these cute little noises, little huffs and small growl groans that remind you of a puppy before he falls asleep. But you can’t sleep- you stare at the ceiling in your bedroom and can’t help but think about Yoongi earlier. How you thought for a second you’d seen him crying on the way home, spied in your rearview mirror, head hanging out the window and his cheeks wet. somehow your bed feels more empty than it used too. Even with you and Namjoon in it. 

- after a few more minutes where you wonder if you’ll ever get to sleep, You slip out of your and Namjoon’s bed and sneak down the hallway. Your footsteps cushioned against the carpet as you head down the hall to Yoongi’s room. and you know it’s late but you can’t leave him alone- not when you could fix it and help him.

- You knock softly; thinking about all of the times in which you try to help- on your worst days- when it feels like helping others is all your good for. nothing else in you but that, nothing to appreciate or love beyond what you can do for others because you feels so broken- too broken to be loved without giving up your time like an apology. A lot of the time it feels like you have nothing but acts of service to offer. But on those days, it’s always Namjoon, Yoongi, and jimin that soothe you without even trying,

- Your lover cupping your chin in his hand and telling you that he can’t get enough of you, that he thought about you all day and couldn’t wait to just stand close to you. The quiet care he shows you, massaging the puffy ball of your ankle. The way sometimes he’ll come up behind you when you’re fiddling with your outfit in the morning, his wide hands fisting in the sides of your dress. Making a low whine and scent marking along your shoulder so that every hybrid on the farm knows you’re his. 

- The way namjoon can tell just by looking at you if you need his help, and knows better, like today, when you need a little distance to get your thoughts sorted. 

- Yoongi’s soft companionship the way he’ll shake his head and take the heavy things from you, the roll of his eyes doing the speaking for him, “what would Namjoon think if I let you carry this on your own” or the way that he’d sometimes tap the edge of your hat with his long fingers making it bounce, lip pulling up to show his cute little fangs.

- When jimin looks at you like you’ve hung the stars in the side for him. Ready to ramble on and on about whatever new thing he’d tried today. Wanting to include you in his process as he became adjusted to the world. The way that he hangs on to every word you say, following you around like a lost puppy, but you would never mind that- how could you? When he was so smitten that it made your heart flutter to be liked with such loving intent.

- You knock on Yoongi’s door, and he answers with wet cheeks, looking startled, rubbing his cheek with the side of his hand. “Yoongi, are you alright?” he shakes his head, hovering, body swaying. You can tell from the hum that the air-conditioning is on high. Not too surprising given the heat of the day, and you know it’s easier for Yoongi to make his room cool and then work up to the kind of warmth he needs then do it the other way.

- His blinds are all drawn, no light on in his room. Thought you peeked outside and sure enough- the stars were shining bright, no moon in the sky.  “Can I come in?” Yoongi looks like- fuck- this is going to hurt him, but he nods anyway. 

- He scoots over in his bed and moves one of the covers down and lets you climb in on the other side of the bed, and the covers are cool and comfortable beneath your skin, the only light in the room comes from the display panel of the air-conditioning unit and the green makes Yoongi’s eyes glow yellow. “You can tell me- something’s wrong, isn’t it? if its something I can fix you’ve got to tell me- Yoongi- I-“

- Yoongi pulls himself up to hover over you on one arm, his other hand coming up to comb back your hair, you’re stunned into silence. The words leaving your mouth as you find yourself inches away from him, the cool line of his body pressed up against yours. And you think- because you’re both in pajamas and not actually touching skin to skin- you think that is the reason why it might not bother him so much. 

- Yoongi is all lithe muscle and harsh edges, but he’s nothing more than gentle with his hands when he softly brushes over your cheek, his eyes molten gold as he tilts his chin up, his soft lips press against your forehead for just a second, the reverse of what you’d done for him this morning.

- Maybe you were both too worn out from the day’s events not too need each other’s company. He tilts his body to the side and leans up on his elbow to watch you. And you might expect it to feel strange- his body and it’s the absence of heat, but underneath the covers it actually feels comforting, cooling amid the summer humidity that just won’t quit.

- He leans in close to poke at your cheek with his nose, nuzzling with slow curling motions as if to tell you- go to sleep, and sleep you do, the coolness of the bed and Yoongi’s body supplying relief to your overheated muscles. Yoongi knows what you needed without you having to say it- the same way that you always knew what he needed. Yoongi stays close and curls around you tightly- his arm and his leg wrapping around you, protecting you both from something you might not see.

- Your last thought before you fall asleep is a question, is Yoongi’s strong grip on you- like he’s holding on for dear life, something to do with his snake genes? Or is there some other reason why his muscles and legs tremble when they hold you close like he’s afraid something is going to be able to separate you.

- Before you truly fall asleep, you think you hear a low voice say something, just a few words, but regardless of what Yoongi might have said- or if he spoke at all, You won’t remember it in the morning. 

Kofi

BONUS: Jimin’s little flower holder!

[bitimdrake]

oooo are we complaining about fanon batfam fics? i am in constant mourning for the death of nuance in bat fics. it’s all black and white, “this person did a bad thing that i think is bad so they’re evil!” it’s never “this is a complex person who does both good and bad things and their choices are informed by the way their life has been shaped.” also i’m sick of fanon tim and his woobification and his parents being made cartoonishly neglectful and abusive, among his many other crimes. i want to put fanon tim in a shredder, which sucks bc i love tim

agsds you know what, sure. Come on in with your complaints. I am ready.

The black and white is so! annoying!! I rank how bad fanon is in my head (and therefore how willing I am to put up with it if the rest of a fic is good), and any fanon that involves one character being declared terrible and evil and awful because they hurt the author's fave is the absolute worst. I miss the nuance :(

Like...genuinely one of my absolute favorite things ever in fiction is when characters can be truly flawed, can be stupid or mean or hurt someone, can make a serious mistake, or can lash out in emotion, or can even do something that they know isn't nice--but in a way that makes them human, that lets them still be ultimately good, instead of only being used to show who's is An Evil Person. Because we all do that! At some point, every single person has done something they knew was wrong because it felt good.

And, i mean, I don't really expect to always find that kind of nuance and complication in largely unedited stories shared for free, many of which are specifically intended to make readers feel good and nice and happy.

...but at the very least, it would be nice if there was some grey area between "this person has been Hurt and therefore is an innocent victim who can do no wrong and who everyone is unfairly cruel to" and "this person sucks."

re batfam in particular, this comes up particularly for me in the Tim/Dick/Damian Robin transfer thing. Because I am personally deeply invested in the Tim & Dick relationship and wish we got more resolution on that instead of it being effortlessly swept over in comics, so I would love to read more good fics about this! But instead like....90% of all the fics I have ever read about it instead end up making me dislike the self-centered, helpless little woobie "victim" (i.e. the author's fave; usually but not always tim), and feel more sympathetic towards the "terrible monster" who didn't actually do half the things they are accused of, had reasons for the other half, and is the only one actually being unfairly targeted.

And Tim's parents...yeah, it's just more loss of nuance. They weren't good parents, but I think it's much easier to write cartoonishly awful parents than to capture the more subtle failures of their parenting and complicated pain it caused Tim. But the latter is also something I'm interesting in reading about--Tim and Jack's canon relationship has such interesting potential--that is just...drowned out by the rest.

[phoenixyfriend]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's Fine.

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

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

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

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

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

THAT SAID

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

And Obi-Wan... isn't.

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

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

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

It's a very tense situation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No parent ever does."

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

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

"Why?"

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

Obi-Wan feels his heart in his throat.

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

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

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

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

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

"How do you do it?"

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

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

"Ah, teenagers," the man sighs.

"He's twenty."

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

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

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

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

"It seems he cares for you very much."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Obi-Wan chokes on his drink.

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

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

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

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

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

He really should go speak with Anakin.

And there's a war to fight.

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

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

He should... really go find Anakin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Obi-Wan hopes he doesn't.

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

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

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

Still.

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

[alectology-archive]

following up about that post about antis wanting catra to die more, i think they want less death per se and more like,,, accountability by adora due to their 3 year long fight, hence why they view catradora as abusive. it’s really weird honestly because they were enemies and i can’t imagine how adora cutting catra out of her life would make the latter a better person. idk i just hate how wrongly misunderstood their relationship is

I think you mean accountability on catra's part? but you’re right!! sooo many people misunderstand catra & adora’s relationship and I’m not sure how they could get it so wrong. idk there’s so many parts to it indicating how complex it is - how adora cared for catra, how catra was allowed to stay with the horde just because adora liked her, how they consider each other their homes, how they promised each other they’d stay together and couldn’t keep it because shadow weaver messed them up as kids, how catra didn’t really know that the princesses were genuinely Good People and things spiralled when she tried to prove she was capable of being better than being adora. I could go on.

And anyway. we KNOW how packed season 5 already was and in the amount of time that was given I personally think the creators did a good job with their redemption arcs - at least the previous seasons had some filler episodes but s5 generally didn’t feature more than 1 or 2 of those iirc.

Also... by all means glimmer's actions were... nearly as bad as catra's because she knowingly set off a super weapon that was going to kill innocent people - including the ones in the horde (re: the previous episodes literally dealt with the rebellion realising that the horde went hard with the propaganda and cruelty and that adora wasn't an exception but mostly likely one of many. A lot of episodes featuring lonnie and kyle generally deal with their humanity - as did scorpia's episodes which is why we were rooting for them to join the good gang in the first place). Entrapta is equally guilty and complicit too although she tends to get excused just because she works behind the scenes and is generally present for comic relief - working for a fascist empire and supplying it with powerful weapons that enables it to hurt the native people on massive scales is by no means a small matter. But she was also a victim of abuse - the horde manipulated her and preyed on her insecurities of being a bad friend to coerce her into working for them - which is why when she was able to find a sense of kinship with hordak and she clung to it so desperately since it essentially provided her the company she craved without comprising on the research part.

Part of this just has to do with it being a show for kids - the other part has to do with how the princesses and their people choose to focus on rehabilitation and healing rather than imprisonment and abuse - it's why bright moon doesn't have a prison in the first place.

_____________

And to be fair! I think adora was right in moving on past catra in season 1, or at least doesn't deserve to be given a hard time about it. She had her own personal beliefs and values to uphold and catra was not willing to change - but it's also important to understand that the situation was so much more complex, like you said. Essentially: Adora could've tried better. Catra could've tried better. But shadow weaver's abuse deeply affected both of them to the point where adora leapt at the first opportunity to sacrifice herself every single time to make up for her years of ignorance and catra's mental health took a down spiral especially after shadow weaver used her to escape prison and gave her the impression that no one in the world truly cared about her. Every time somebody showed her the smallest hint of kindness, catra believed there was some sort of artifice or ulterior motive behind it and responded in kind by being mean - it was her defence mechanism!

Like I know all of this might be a little hard to miss on the first watch but it's pretty blatantly obvious on a rewatch. I don't consider this a meta post at all or my attempt at digging for a deeper meaning in the show - it's there, it's obvious, and the show is MEANT to explore the abuse queer people face at the hands of fascist empires, abusive parental figures, religious institutions, and discuss how they're brought up to believe that their desire is wrong and to unlearn that and realise that they deserve love too.