#i want miles to die. i want him to live and succeed and have good things and be happy but most of all i want PAIN

[roryhastoomanyfandoms]

Concept for Beyond The Spiderverse; Miles gets his shit rocked by whatever, maybe a heroic sacrifice attempt. O'Hara gets over to him first, and Miles, one (1) inch from death, sees a dark, broad figure in blue above him through the haze of pain and near-death fog, and tells who he thinks is his father that he's sorry and that he loves him.

Cue Miguel "Repressed Catholic Grieving Father Who Was Just Trying To Maim This Child" O'Hara trying to 1; cope with being a dad again, in any capacity, for even a moment, and 2; figure out if he should play along and pretend to be Jefferson, so this child can at least think he's dying in the comfort of his father's presence

[sshbpodcast]

Character Spotlight: Keiko O’Brien

By Ames

Ring ring ring. Take your seats. The first period school bell just rang, and that means we’ve got to talk about Star Trek’s botanist-turned-school-marm: Keiko Ishikawa O’Brien. She’s another character that bridges both TNG and DS9, the former cementing her mostly in the role of Miles’s wife and the latter taking every opportunity to give her the week off. Keiko never really gets a fair shake on either show, which is a shame because she has so much potential. So A Star to Steer Her By is going to give her some time in the sun this week to see how she grows! Like a plant… because she’s a botanist… Moving on.

Amusingly, even though last week we joked that all of Garak’s moments should go on BOTH his Best and Worst Moments lists, it’s actually Keiko for whom we’re seeing the most simultaneously good and bad arguments! So grab your pruning shears and ring your school bell with us as you read on below and listen to us argue with Miles on the promenade on this week’s podcast episode (jump to 59:28), or else you’ll have to stay late for detention!

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Best moments

Try to touch the cup Introduced halfway through The Next Generation, Keiko mostly seems to be around to support other characters. So in “Violations,” she’s there to help with the investigation into the mind-probing Ullians. She doesn’t do much, but she’s there. And we’ve got to admit that her scene remembering her childhood with her grandmother is rather sweet.

I would die to save the life of my child Keiko shows some badassery in “Power Play” when Miles is possessed by a being who seems to relish the idea of tormenting its host’s significant other, really twisting the knife and making things personal. Keiko bravely demands that the being let baby Molly go and even expresses she would rather die than let this thing survive. This all to the face of the man she loves!

So easy a child could do it I shit on “Rascals” a lot (and rightly so), but one thing it actually succeeds in is giving Keiko something to do. Even if it is the child form of Keiko, and not that great a child actor to boot. But she does get to help foil the Ferengi takeover of the ship, which somehow the adults on the ship are unable to do. So, uh, low bar but she and the other kid-crew leap over that sucker.

Children are the future By the time Miles and Keiko have moved over to Deep Space Nine, the little missus is looking for some way to contribute now that her botanying is basically on pause, and she leaps feet first into taking on the education of all the children on the station in “A Man Alone.” It’s a commendable endeavor since, even in the future, teaching is drastically underappreciated.

Separation of religion and station We also have to stand up and applaud Keiko for standing up to Vedek Winn in “In the Hands of the Prophets” when the Bajoran leader wants her to stop teaching the science of the wormhole and instead enforce their backwards religion. Keiko’s spot-on response “I don't teach Bajoran spiritual beliefs; that's your job” is the secular philosophy Star Trek is all about.

You know, that was a very ugly thing you just said We give Miles shit for his anti-Cardassian racism, so it’s refreshing to see Keiko do the same and call him in on his dog whistling in “Cardassians.” Miles tries to insinuate that Cardassians had gentleness bred out of them, and Keiko won’t hear it. She lets Rugal stay with them, she encourages him to play with Molly, and she even tries (and fails) to feed him like she would any kid.

It keeps him up all night! Keiko later foils the Kelleruns’ plan in “Armageddon Game” when she sees through their doctored recording of the harvester-deactivation team getting wiped out by some failsafe or other. The whole thing, of course, is a lie. Without Keiko insisting that the thing is a forgery because Miles wouldn’t be drinking coffee ends up saving the lives of Bashir and O’Brien.

We call it Voight-Kampff for short Viewers at home don’t even realize it until the end, but Keiko does a great job not rumbling the game for Miles’s replicant in “Whispers.” The twist at the end reveals that she’s been hiding from him that everyone on the station knows he’s not the real Miles, but she manages to keep him from fulfilling whatever his directive and treats him like the actual deal as much as she can.

I have no intention of testifying against my husband Even while cemented into the limiting role of “Miles’s wife,” Keiko gets some moments to shine. Ostensibly, she attends Miles’s trial in “Tribunal” just to be the face of the defendant’s family (and to give Miles the chance to blame domestic abuse if he wants), but Keiko never gives the corrupt judiciaries what they want, pushing back against their legal system the whole time.

Be the best damned botanist in the galaxy When Keiko is forced to close down the school when the Bajoran kiddos leave the station in “The House of Quark,” she’s back to where she started in the premiere. So it’s great to have her go back to her roots and agree to join the agrobiology expedition on Bajor rather than wallow in despair. Was it just to write her out of episodes? A little, but at least it’s in character.

Cheer him up a little This one probably belongs on Miles’s Worst Moments list, so let’s cover it now. Miles spends “Accession” moping that he can’t hang out with Bashir anymore now that Keiko’s back from her botany assignment, even though she never once gives him any indication he can’t still have fun. So she tricks him into going to play with his friend like setting up a toddler playdate.

You’re family now More on this in the Worst Moments section, but first let’s praise Keiko for how she treats Kira, who is surrogating Yoshi after the events of “Body Parts.” The O’Briens have Kira move in with them during the pregnancy, and Keiko is super progressive during “Looking for par’Mach in All the Wrong Places” about how Miles takes care of the Major. It’s sweet, right? Right…?

—

Worst moments

Runabout Bride I griped about this in both Data’s and Miles’s spotlight posts as well, but really Keiko is the one who started it! In her series debut “Data’s Day,” she continuously tries to call off her own wedding on the day. And even worse than that: she makes poor Data (of all people!) do it for her! The franchise really starts off this character as demonstrably unlikeable. But don’t worry, there’s more!

Plankton loaf du jour Chris put this on our Miles list as well, but it bears repeating. In “The Wounded,” immediately after their marriage, Keiko makes them breakfast of kelp buds, plankton loaf, and sea berries, which to my Western palette sounds awful. And then turns up her nose at Miles’s food culture. Did you two never eat together before this or did you go straight to the “I do”s with a stranger?

Is our marriage over? So Keiko and the kids outsmarting the Ferengi in “Rascals” made the good list, but the rest of her behavior while a child is just WEIRD. As a twelve-year-old, she tries to act like her relationship with Miles should remain the same. Excuse me? It’s one thing for him to be supportive of you in a crisis, but your life is entirely upended. Do not put this man in this position.

This garden transplant didn’t take Another element of the Keiko character that we brought up before in the Miles post comes when they transfer together to DS9 and Keiko effectively loses her job as botanist. How this wasn’t a conversation between the two of them is beyond me, as they spend all of “A Man Alone” publicly fighting at Quark’s and on the promenade about their terrible life choices.

School is now in session The writers strangely decide to make Keiko a school teacher in “A Man Alone” just to keep her character relevant to the new show. It’s a good thing for someone to do, as we mentioned in our Best Moments list, but frankly it feels like a disservice to her character, who already had a life before this. It just didn’t fit the Frontier Station™ setting, so Keiko gets a personality overwrite.

No more pencils, no more books Standing up to Vedek Winn in “In the Hands of the Prophets,” it turns out, is a terrible idea, as Keiko essentially stirs up racial tensions all across the station, resulting in most of the students pulling out of school, which ends up getting blown up. Coincidence? Oh definitely not. And shame on the writers for not giving Keiko another line after the destruction. Boo.

The best part of waking up… We’re still not sure what we think of the reveal that Miles does indeed drink coffee whenever the hell he pleases in “Armageddon Game,” as it negates the insight that Keiko had earlier brought to the episode (and to this blogpost!) when she saves the day. It feels like the writers are saying “nyah nyah!” because it turns out Keiko doesn’t know her husband as well as she thinks.

I don’t even want to sit at the same table with you More fighting in public with Miles. We loved Keiko getting back to her botany roots, but springing on her husband in “Fascination” that her survey expedition was going to take seven months longer than planned is an argument that should not have been happening at Quark’s in the Gratitude Festival. The writers made any excuse they could to not have her on the show!

So you wish Keiko was a man? Keiko is upset at Miles at the top of “Hippocratic Oath” for putting a workshop in the bedroom during one of the myriad times she’s away, and clearly there was another argument about it in which Keiko accuses him of living like a bachelor again. Bitch, you’re not even there 90% of the time. No wonder Miles admits to Julian he wishes she were more like a man.

I think she’s actually enjoying it, Miles We talked in both Kira’s and Miles’s posts about how ridiculous their B-plot was in “Looking for par’Mach in All the Wrong Places,” but Keiko is so naive that she keeps forcing them together by accident. What’s even worse: this whole surrogacy plot was a fabulous opportunity to have Keiko and Kira bond instead, as two women who rarely have scenes together. What a ripoff.

Where’re Baloo and Bagheera when you need them? I will never stop giving Miles and Keiko (and to some extent Odo!) grief about how they send feral Molly back into her cave in “Time’s Orphan.” How anyone can neglect their child this blatantly and then be rewarded for it by the episode’s intent is just terrible. Keiko doesn’t even resist the idea when Miles shares it, but is onboard immediately to give up on their child rather than get her actual help.

But the cat came back the very next day A smaller detail in “Time’s Orphan” hints at how Keiko doesn’t like Chester, the cat that O’Brien takes in after he absolutely gets Bilby killed in “Honor Among Thieves.” Keiko strongly insinuates that she’d be happy if Chester ran away, never to return, if they brought him on their picnic. How this woman cannot love this poor orphaned cat is beyond me and deserves some hate.

—

Aaaaand we’re all suspended for setting off stink bombs on the promenade. We’ll be back next week though to highlight Keiko’s arch nemesis. No, not Miles. Kai Winn Adami! Look forward to that, keep up with our trip through the Delphic Expance with us on our Enterprise watchalong on SoundCloud (and the other podcast places), pass notes in class to us on Facebook and Twitter, and no fighting on the promenade!

[neonbrutalism]

I posted a new fic! It's on Anon because it is has nothing at all to do with Mostly Intact and I felt it would be a bit of a tease to post something the next day and have it not be related. But I will post it here too.

Title (and themes) are from Heretic Pride by The Mountain Goats.

Heretic Pride

Summary:

The monster dies at the end of the story. Miguel is expecting it. Hell, he won’t even blame them for it. And tonight is the beginning of the end. -- Miguel comes back to headquarters the night Miles escapes and waits for the reckoning to arrive.

Character: Miguel O'Hara

Tags: Drabble Introspection Character Study Dehumanization Suicidal Thoughts Self-Hatred Graphic Depictions of Violence

Please mind the tags.

The monster dies at the end of the story. 

Miguel is expecting it. Hell, he won’t even blame them for it. And tonight is the beginning of the end. 

He’s failed.  Failed to catch the anomaly. Failed to prove his worth. Failed to hide his true nature. 

The monster dies at the end.

The good townsfolk will come together and throw the creature into a pit of spikes. They’ll hunt him down and cut it open to release all the children he has devoured, like that will bring them back. They’ll light torches and storm the gates and burn the beast alive in his home. And he’ll deserve it.

If the anomaly breaks the canon — and he has to think of the kid as an anomaly, a glitch, not a child , not Miles, who wants to save his father — that will be Miguel’s fault, if the universe falls apart. Billions more lives he will have failed. More blood on his hands. Claws. Monsters have claws, not hands.  Monsters who steal lives and steal lives and doom one world after another.

The beast has killed again. The townsfolk find its lair, dark, because no monster can stand the light, filled with bones and broken pieces, and drag it through the streets. 

They dig a pit of stakes in the town square and tie it up and cast it down. 

The monster screams, skewered, and weeps until it’s bled too much to move and the townsfolk will know they’ve done the right thing. The creature is dead and joy will fill the town again and thank God it didn’t fight back, thank God it knew it deserved to die after everything. 

What kind of monster kills its own daughter? 

Miguel knows he deserves it.

He has failed, but what if the anomaly succeeds? What if Miguel is wrong? 

The monster has been haunting the townsfolk. Demanding tribute. Demanding sacrifice. Bring it your children, your parents, your uncles, and watch it tear apart everyone you love with its fangs — that’s what fangs are for, ripping, tearing, devouring. Bring your heart to the web and let it be sucked dry.

It’s for the best. 

It’s for the greater good. 

Bring it flesh and blood, pay the price, sacrifice your love to the monster because that’s all it really wants to taste. It can’t really love anything, it can’t be loved, so it must destroy any love it can find.

But the creature is wrong and now the spell is broken. The townsfolk will see it was all false, it was all a lie to feed the insatiable thing in the center of its web. They’ll rise up together, strong and unafraid, pin it down with pitchforks and slice its belly open to free all the lives it has devoured. But there’s nothing there, of course, it won’t undo anything. At least it didn’t lash out or try to stop them — at least it knew what it had done. The townsfolk mourn their losses and leave the monster alone to rot and fester in the sun. No one mourns it. Who even would?

What kind of monster devours its own daughter? 

Miguel won’t blame them for it.

Maybe right and wrong, truth or fiction, won’t matter at all. The scales fell from their eyes tonight and they saw him for what he really is. Stronger, faster, unstoppable, fangs bared, claws out and eyes like blood, ripping open the fabric of reality. 

The monster has been hiding among the townsfolk. In plain sight. In fact, it tells them the story of how it has hidden before.

It has never been one of them. They should have known — the townsfolk all know each other when they meet. Their hearts sing and connect and know when they are like them . They feel nothing when they meet the monster. It’s different.

But then it gets sloppy, it gets angry and its true face peeks through for a brief moment and now they all know. It’s not a man. It’s not a person. It’s an abomination, a crime against nature, a freak. It pulls apart the world to try to destroy a child. It lies and says it’s good, it’s a hero; and it fools nobody, least of all itself. They look in its eyes and see red and know it must die.

The townsfolk gather their torches. They storm the creature’s lair, bar the door and set it ablaze. The monster shrieks in agony but doesn’t try to escape. It knows this is the ending meant for it.

When the flames die, they find nothing remaining of the man it pretended to be. Just a twisted shape, neither human nor spider and somehow both and entirely wrong. At least it’s gone. At least it suffered.

What kind of monster rips apart its own daughter? 

Well. Not its own daughter. 

The monster dies at the end of the story. 

Miguel sits in his lair, in the dark, surrounded by images of worlds he has ruined. Eyes red, flesh between his fangs and blood on his claws, and he waits. 

The townsfolk will come with fire and pitchforks and spikes, ready for the end.

He sits in the dark and waits.

He deserves it. He doesn’t blame them. 

It will feel happy when they come.

[cannoli-reader]

My notes watching Wheel of Time: Season 1, episode 3

Posted on readandfindout.com on 11/19/2021

4:00 – Not sure how I feel about Nynaeve using a weapon. Not that there’s anything wrong with it per se. But it’s just her thing, that she’s not a killer, but a Healer.

7:27 – By “you won’t” he meant “succeed” of course. Because Lan.

7:50 – Yes, Perrin is gone, too. Nice of you to remember.

9:30 – I kind of feel like it should be obvious to WoT Novices that the Dragon Reborn is probably not Perrin or Mat.

10:46 – Perrin was not nearly so sanguine ITB about Egwene’s channeling, and he should not have been, because that’s super dangerous as Verin points out in the next book, and Perrin’s deal is that he understands the dangers of things and grasps the importance of controlling power instead of using it. Because he’s really strong and waves heavy objects for a living and doesn’t want to hurt anyone. And also, the One Power is the reason for every single aspect of WoT that is worse than the Real World, so people are more afraid of it than anything.

I kind of feel like they don’t get this and think they are fixing Perrin here, by making him supportive.

11:15 – And Egwene wants to go back home to look for their friends, instead of heading to Tar Valon. Like or hate her, like or hate this aspect of her character, it’s a big deal for her! Hell, ITB, she was adamant about not delaying their journey to the Tower for even the slightest detour even after Elyas demonstrated how much better off they would be in his company. Perrin even went on an uncharacteristically sarcastic mini-rant about it.

12:45 – Nynaeve would never require coercion or pressure of any sort to heal someone who was sick or hurt, for any reason. That is her thing. It’s as much her thing as Egwene’s ambition or Perrin’s caution. She would never hold out Healing in order to pressure someone into doing what she wants.

14:25 – Why be coy about her tracking? ITB she offered an explanation of her skills unsolicited.

I just realized that maybe she was embarrassed ITB in Baerlon, because she actually was more subconsciously relying on the link to Egwene and did not want to admit she was actually following a feeling she could not explain. Which, in turn, might explain her reluctance to answer Lan. Except in this version, there is still no explanation of how she then found Lan and Moiraine, rather than being drawn in Egwene’s direction.

17:28 – I like the dream if it’s Baalzamon trying to make Perrin fear the wolves, otherwise, wolves in his dreams were protecting him from Baalzamon. And shouldn’t be eating his dead wife.

17:40 – I’m imagining those snarls are wolvish for “Damnit Young Bull, we’re trying to help! There’s food over…no, not that way! Crap, someone find Long Tooth to talk to these idiots.”

20:13 – I feel like maybe the show people don’t know what the point of those cage things actually is. They are intended to make people die of exposure, a long, slow suffering. Not to hoist them up as target practice. One of those cages whose occupant is riddled with arrows looks like he was mercy-killed.

20:30 – Is this Whitebridge or Baerlon? It’s got a bridge, but it’s kind of shabby and miney for the former.

21:14 - >resigned sigh< I’m half expecting Min to be winning a drinking contest in this place. TV writers being all super-original and whatnot.

21:43 – Thom?

22:00 – Okay, guitar.

22:21 – Is this good singing? I can’t tell.

23:55 – A song about how sad LTT is would not be something people in the Third Age would appreciate.

24:52 – Saw that coming a mile away. Hood dude was a clear and obvious Film Pickpocket, but if he managed to get Thom, I’d have shut the browser window. Thom picking HIS pocket was the only way to stay true to the character. Happily.

25:07 – Please don’t let “donation for the gleeman” become the new “Toss a coin for your Witcher”.

25:13 – So with that essential character service out of the way, we can go on with Thom taking advantage of two hard-up young men in over their heads, because his mercenary attributes and greed are a thing with him.

25:53 – “Aawooo! Seriously, Young Bull! You’re going in the wrong direction for hunting or water. Just hold up, Long Tooth isn’t far!”

28:09 – Careful, barmaid. In Rand’s experience, doing the dishes means sex.

Ah, good thing she’s setting him to chop wood. No innuendo or euphemisms there.

29:00 – They don’t use scatological profanity in WoT. How hard is it to stick with “bloody” and “burn me” and “blood and ashes”? What’s gained by having Mat say “shit” all the time.

29:59 – Or sexual profanity. Not least because that tends to have sexist connotations.

30:17 – There’s a reason why Rand is mentioned as taking off his coat when doing chores for his room and board. It’s confining and gets in the way, especially a long flappy one like he’s wearing. Would it be too much trouble for TV writers to ever do a little manual labor so they know these things? Anyone who’s ever split wood would feel that shot was wrong.

32:02 – What exactly are we getting out of this whole scene in the bar? Turns out this is Breen’s Spring, so it’s not like this is an important locale they need to establish.

32:28 – This is NOT Mat! Even with the dagger affecting him for much longer, even when it has him thinking Rand will abandon him if he can’t keep up, he still sticks with Rand, protects him when he’s weak and gets him food and shelter.

32:55 – I don’t think the locals know the barmaid so well because of enforced familiarity, but because she’s prone to blabbering to even a stranger she was belittling moments ago for being lazy and useless. This is Sanderson all over again. Jordan wrote a million characters. We don’t need all this screen time devoted to a useless original one who serves no purpose.

35:56 – This is, like, exactly the opposite of how the Tinkers are presented. Why would you ever trust these creepy people without an intermediary like Elyas vouching for them?

36:30 – They haven’t actually been welcomed to the Tinker camp, because the show thought it would be better to have them seem creepy and shocking, so you get zero points for sticking with the book dialogue.

36:59 – “You both look awful and this is being said by people who appear not to have washed our top-knot man-bun dreadlocks in forever.” Why is so much TV dialogue putdowns, insults or mockery, even, or especially, between friendly characters?

38:18 – It’s almost like Perrin and Egwene tucked into their food so emphatically because they really want to finish and get away from the most evil person from Downton Abbey and her husband, Taika Waititi.

38:42 – Yay. Took off his coat.

38:47 – See, this is what I mean. You can dig into the barmaid’s comments to infer that she’s impressed with Rand’s work ethic and output, but it’s all negative. First, she’s questioning why he’s working when she let Mat off an hour ago, then she’s ironically noting that he’s chopped enough wood for the next year and when he asks for confirmation that he’s done enough to earn food and shelter, her manner of agreement is as if she’s trying anything but to say, “yes, good job, thank you.”

39:28 – And she’s only being actually nice when she’s being a good LGBTQ ally. Because that’s the highest virtue. And they’re playing it for laughs, so it’s not even like this is being woke.

39:53 – WHY have Rand and Mat each exchanged more words with the bar woman than with Thom? Or maybe even each other since coming into this town? They might have spent more time with her, each, than Lan and Nynaeve have interacted.

40:02 to 40:16 – Lan sitting on his horse looking over a cliff. Why? You couldn’t have him just ride up to Nynaeve and Moiraine and say he found it?

43:06 – “Stop acting like a bloody white-veiled Aiel” doesn’t have the same ring to it. Thom knowing about Aiel honor also feels wrong.

44:20 – I like Thom kind of teaching Mat a moral lesson here and being a good example. He doesn’t get enough credit for that ITB.

45:19 – And we’re back to the barmaid. She had better be a Darkfriend at this point.

48:00 – Okay. Better, but predictable. And no, the braid doesn’t make you look like Egwene when you’re easily 50 pounds heavier than she is and the nose ring only highlights another proboscis-related difference.

48:30 – I suppose it would make sense for a gleeman to have some knowledge of Aiel customs, even if he didn’t bury the guy properly, but you’d think that with that knowledge would come questions or speculation as to what one was doing so far out of his homeland.

50:36 – Dana the Darkfriend.

52:24 – Predictable can be satisfying. There was no way this monologue was ending without Thom’s knife suddenly sticking out of her. But it’s only satisfying because she’s been so annoying and pointless and taking up too much of the episode, not because she is actually scary as a chubby woman in a bulky dress trying to hold off two fit men.

54:38 – Since when do Aes Sedai address each other as “(Name) Sedai”?

How did we get through the introduction of the Tinkers with no reference in the whole episode to the Way of the Leaf? That's like a vegan's diet - they find a way to work it into every conversation.

[ironwoodprotectionsquad]

One thing I think is weird about how Ironwood was treated by the show and the writers is that Miles Luna wrote the chorus trilogy in red vs blue and there he gave Locus a redemption arc.

I view Ironwood and Locus to be very similar characters, both are stoic, veteran coded characters with severe PTSD who do horrible things because their brains have been warped by their trauma and the people around them just don't care about them outside of being something to use.

The difference isn't just that Locus got a redemption arc and Ironwood didn't though, the difference is that Locus's crimes were worse. He actively aided in a planet wide genocide for years. And it was so widespread that EVERYONE was wearing armor unless they were dead and a single battle in a city would be enough to wipe the people of Chorus out completely.

Ironwood's crimes are... He killed two people, one off screen, one on screen. And he... Didn't succeed in dropping a bomb on poor people, but him wanting to was enough to make him completely irredeemable.

And I'm saying this as someone who genuinely likes Locus, he's really compelling to me. I like seeing a man who once held strong moral convictions be warped into a monster by war and military mentality but after committing one of the worst crimes imaginable, eventually sees that what he's doing is wrong and actively helps out the good guys.

But it's still problematic that Miles Luna has a history of writing PTSD survivors as being violent sociopaths who do terrible things, and Locus didn't have extensive prosthetics and worse crimes, while Ironwood's crimes were comparatively tame (Caboose, the most innocent and popular character in red vs blue has a higher on screen kill count than Ironwood to the point that it's a running joke) and he does have extensive prosthetics.

It just leaves a really bad taste in my mouth I guess. (It's also worth noting that Locus's real name is Samuel Ortez and he is Afro Latino while James Ironwood is physically coded as being half Chinese... That's two people of color doing horrible things because of their disabilities hot damn)

RWBY is the first and last RT show I've watched so I don't know much about their other shows so I can’t really speak to much into what they’ve done before. But despite the fact that this character got a redemption arc, for both characters it sounds like their terrible acts are being played off as being because of a mental illness which is extremely harmful and ableist. More and more we are seeing arcs where people suffering from PTSD either turn evil because of said PTSD or die for the “greater good” so the “whole” people can live on happily ever after and its played off as a good thing or that it was their choice and it should be respected. But...that does not make it any less ableist. 

Them being both non white makes it all the worse. So often these characters suffering from PTSD also just oh so conveniently are not white. So on top of the extreme ableism we are also dealing with extreme racism. 

But back to the point, we take these characters, these complex and unique characters and the fans grow attached to them because how could we not relate to these characters because so many of us have been through some sort of trauma or hard times so we connect with characters that have been through stuff to. We connect and relate to these characters but then have to watch them die or turn into an unrecognizable monster because of their trauma or their disability aids or both. Over and over again we see this shit play out and it looks like CRWBY does this regularly. They should know by now that using mental illness’s or disability aids as a short hand for making someone evil is wrong and I don’t understand why fans defend this shit or pretend its okay. 

[ramblingguy54]

Sonic & Tails R: A Love Letter To Miles Tails Prower’s Characterization

     Warning: This will contain massive spoilers for the short radio play series of Sonic & Tails R. If you haven’t listened to the radio play yet on Youtube, I’d highly recommend any hardcore Sonic fan who hasn’t seen it check it out. It’s one Hell of a treat.

     For as far back as I can remember in my childhood, Tails’ story of trying to step outta Sonic’s shadow has been such a resonating one for myself. Even when I was a much younger kid playing my Dreamcast, during entries like Sonic Adventure 1 & 2, there was some idea lingering about why Tails just stood out more emotionally in his journey to grow beyond depending on Sonic all the time for help. Now here I am a young adult in my late twenties having such a deeper appreciation of this little two tailed genius kiddo because he’s got an important element that’s made him so beloved for good reason.

     In spite of his genius being a rival to that of Eggman’s high IQ and of course proving to surpass it plenty of times when scenarios boil down to being a high stakes battle, Miles Tails Prower beneath it all is still just like any one of us. We’re all trying to find our place in this world about what defines us for who we are as unique people. He wants to be more than just seen as someone who’s alongside Sonic The Hedgehog’s never say die attitude, but prove he’s plenty capable of standing on his own two feet to protect everything the kid holds dear to himself. Underdog stories, when they’re naturally executed very well, can reel me in so easily. They are very much my bread & butter trope I adore seeing.

     To no one’s surprise, the two Sonic Adventure’s iterations portrayal of Tails’ characterization are hands down some of my favorite writing for the two tailed fox, regarding what the 3D era has done toward him, development wise. It gave him more of an existential struggle to endure like, “What happens when Sonic isn’t around to help stop Eggman? What if I’m not strong enough to accomplish what he can?”, making Tails plight to be seen as an equal all the more endearing when stopping Eggman in his climatic battle against the Egg Walker in Station Square. This here is a great use of a timeless lesson you can apply in life that if you set you heart and mind on anything, there isn’t a thing you can’t accomplish on your own, which is why many fell in love with Sonic Adventure 1 & 2′s writing for Miles Tails Prower’s journey of independence.

     As someone who comes from a large family tree of relatives, I feel the weight of my existence on my shoulders at a number of points more than I’d care to count, admittedly. Seeing Tails struggle with his sense of purpose, in contrast to observing how much Sonic has accomplished with his carefree, yet deeply compassionate attitude, means the world to me in watching another trying to comprehend their value as a whole on how much they matter, overall. This is a big part of why my fondness for SA1 & 2′s quality has never wavered over these years, besides still obviously enjoying most of their game play mechanics. People can try to debate to their heart’s content on whether the Adventure games still hold up in their own eyes, but I’ll always respect them for how they tried to develop certain characters, such as Tails, Gamma, and Shadow The Hedgehog notably, to attempt expanding upon their characters, as well as world building.

     I won’t bother going into a rant about how Sonic’s recent 3D games have butchered Tails’ personality & relatable nature, due to the current writers in charge of handling the cast of characters. More or less, I greatly empathize toward the notion many have already stated about Tails being so cowardly and God forbid, looking at Lost World, downright severely mean spirited. Rather, I’m obviously writing this lengthy post to breakdown why Sonic & Tails R succeeds, where these certain 3D games have greatly faltered in exploring Tails’ emotional dilemmas as an insecure, yet still having the courage to prove himself, talented boy full of hidden potential he doesn’t quite realize, until his back is against the wall in life threatening situations.

“That day, I realized I couldn’t depend on you forever. Not that I can’t depend on you, but like, “What happens when Sonic isn’t here?”, you know?”

     Sonic & Tails R further delves into this fundamental rule of what has defined Tails in Sonic Adventure 1 & 2′s stories of events where Sonic wasn’t there to aid his best bud in taking down Eggman’s evil efforts for global domination, most importantly his fear of defending the Earth without his role model. Besides what I already stated in SA1′s events in Station where he stopped the Egg Walker, as well as the missile Eggman launched from detonating before their climatic battle, Tails watched Sonic blow up in ARK’s capsule presuming him to be dead after Sonic imparted how much faith he has in the kid’s abilities to be truly strong in the face of any foe. Sonic & Tails R manages to use fan service in a way that doesn’t feel like “pandering” for the sake of it, using this past canon material to do more of an in-depth study about Miles’ anxieties of existing without Sonic.

     Wouldn’t put it past them if EmuEmi & crew were using SA2′s Sonic death fake out scene in that space capsule to further add trauma to Tails’ psychological attachment to Sonic, as well as his insecurities of depending on him too much, to boot. While it’s never obviously outright stated in their radio play, I definitely believe they were factoring this element into adding dramatic exploration for why Tails is so self-conscious about the worst case scenario of permanently losing Sonic. Watching Sonic supposedly die put Tails into a deeper state of self-reflection, so I very much enjoyed how they went using these past events to create a thorough exploration about him learning just as it’s important to realize you need to stand up for yourself without using someone else as a crutch all the time, it’s doubly important to remember there’s nothing wrong about asking someone for help when you’re about to be down and out with little options left.

     Sonic & Tails R beautifully builds upon the foundation these two games’ stories left behind years ago, creating new damn great material to explore with the most iconic characters of this cast, Sonic & Tails brotherly dynamic. I’ve been praising Sonic & Tails R out the wazoo for how well it captured Tails underdog story of overcoming death defying odds, but it managed to remind me how simply adorable and outright wonderfully endearing their brotherly chemistry is as a whole. This is a big friendly reminder Sonic isn’t all about being cocky wise cracking character making meta jokes left and right, but he can be plenty capable of showing serious compassion to anyone he values as an ally and friend. This is no greater evident, than with him verbally lifting Tails up in his time of need when he’s self-depreciating his own significance. It can be seen in Episodes 2, 4, and 7 giving Tails motivational pieces of advice.

    Episode 2 In Adabat’s Cavern

-Sonic: Wasn’t it your radar that helped us find these Emerald shards in the first place? How could you be slowing us down when you’ve gotten us this far?

-Tails: But, I...

-Sonic: I could never make something like that. You’re the smartest person I know, Tails. One way or another, we’ll figure this out, count on it.

         Episode 4 In Holoska After Helping Silver Save The Chao

-Sonic: So, what was that back there? At the cave, in Adabat? -Tails: What do you mean? -Sonic: Frozen stiff. Confidence shot. It’s not like you. It was more than feeling like you were “slowing us down”, right?

        Episode 7 Inside The Egg Carrier 3

-Sonic: Let’s split up! I’ll distract them and you can go after the energy source. -Tails: You’re gonna take them on all by yourself!? Let me help, Sonic! -Sonic: No time for this, Tails. Stop overthinking and just go! If I can get their attention, I’ll take the heat off of you and that room you’re going to probably won’t have any security. Take this emerald and I’ll take the other one we have. It’ll lead me right to you after I beat these guys. -Tails: O-Okay... -Sonic: Hold on, Tails! Listen to me. Don’t stop moving and be careful. I’ll be fine and so will you!

     Sonic & Tails R remembers the most crucial detail of their important relationship. One isn’t better than the other and needing to always rely upon that notion for helping one outta a jam, but instead showcases how they’re equals as a team/bros. Sonic may be super fast and strong, however Tails has his intelligence to analyze situations in a different angle Sonic wouldn’t necessarily consider, per say. Which isn’t to say Tails couldn’t put up a fight either, as we’ve seen in SA1 & SA2′s stories where he faced Eggman one on one with no outside help to best him at his own game of wits & strength.

     We get see the apex of this idea through Tails facing Eggman in his super improved mecha walker. Although Tails may get thrown for a loop here at first by Eggman, it’s his villainous speech about winners and losers in their world that ironically does the exact opposite of what he intended. Eggman wanted to crush Tails’ sense of self worth before finishing him off, but all it did was reignite the very lesson Sonic told him earlier before running to distract Eggman’s robotic minions. That said lesson of he’s more than capable of facing dangerous threats

-Eggman: Poor boy. We all have to learn this lesson, sooner or later. In every game there’s no one you can depend on. You’re all alone and you’re either a winner, or a loser. And as you know, loser’s lose all of their lives. Say goodbye, fox!

-Tails: You’re wrong! I can depend Sonic! I won’t let him down! I can’t because...Because he’s depending on me! And because of that I won’t lose to you!

     This radio play strikes a good balance in utilizing the grey moral area about depending on someone vs it being an unhealthy display of attachment derived from serious insecurity. Word’s can’t begin to describe how much I loved this moment to pieces because it’s oh so important for writing Tails’ characterization. If you’re going to tackle him being super self conscious about his reliance on Sonic, then you gotta remember why they are so close to one another to begin with. Sonic & Tails have an unbreakable connection, considering they’ve brought out their best qualities in themselves from being together as individuals. For Sonic, it’s his older brother compassion to Tails to bring him outta feeling melancholy. For Tails, the kid finally understands there isn’t anything wrong with depending on Sonic when he needs it most.

     After all, that’s what a real healthy friendship is all about. Whether you’re giving someone a dose of tough love, or simply a piece of motivational advice, it defines how much you truly care about someone, period. Sonic & Tails have this very same power from their bond, which is why new emeralds form from their compassionate friendship that hasn’t been shaken after all the years they’ve been together. Another detail worth noting is it adds to the lore in an impactful manner when Tikal expresses in Episode 8 about positive connections and thoughts from users of the Chaos Emeralds having a strong will & heart. Using the ideas they had for encapsulating Sonic & Tails’ dynamic to create new emeralds from their love for each other as brothers adds an emotional weight.

“So, Sonic’s not the only one who harness the power of the Chaos Emeralds? I can too!?”

“Yes, you have a strong heart! There is a power waiting to be unlocked within you, as well.”

          I’d always daydreamed about in my childhood seeing Super Sonic & Tails take down a threatening villain, whether it was Eggman or different powerful creature such as Chaos or the Biolizard. You can imagine how fucking giddy I was beyond belief to see this artwork of Episode 9′s cover for the radio play. Tails not only got to have another one on one with Eggman, but a team up with Super Sonic in his own respective Super form? Sign me the Hell up! Talk about an all you eat buffet of good writing for Tails’ journey reaching its climax. Getting to hear this play out, alongside the amazing song of Fly With Me, made it authentically feel like something straight outta if there were an installment of Sonic Adventure 3 being brought into reality, which certainly feels like it now.

     Episode 9 has so much awesome stuff with Sonic & Tails working together in their super forms. Particularly, my favorite scene is at the beginning when Sonic teaches Tails how to navigate his newly acquired speed in his respective Super form. My heart melted hearing Sonic help Tails through it all, while he was overjoyed about how fun this new form is for himself. Wholesome Sonic & Tails content is the perfect daily serotonin for me, easily. It’s an awesome fun fact to know they used a scrapped boss from Tails Tornado segment in SA1 for Eggman’s flying dragon three headed robot in their big final battle, once again using old canon material in a very effective manner to boost the quality of their fan made story.

     It’s been a real thrill to hear Mike Pollock play a straight forward serious Eggman making my day in more ways than one, considering that’s another thing I’ve been yearning for desperately besides Tails being a competent character again. His performance in Episode 9 when Eggman gave that speech about how long he’s been at odds with Sonic & Tails stubborn will power was simply excellent. The moment he told his mechanical dragon to crush them I got serious chills. That’s the Eggman I remember and grew up with. He could be a hammy villain sure, but Eggman wasn’t a doormat that could be swiftly beaten. Robotnik can be considered a serious threat in his own right and this radio play nailed it down to the very letter with how much he predicted their actions.

“Sonic, all I ever wanted to do was be like you. You’re not scared of anyone or anything. I could never be like that. At least, so I thought. I grew from that, but then I got so caught up in trying to prove it that thought it wasn’t okay to depend upon anyone, especially you. I just didn’t want to be that scared little kid in Station Square anymore, but now I understand. It’s okay to depend on your friends. It all means is that we’re stronger together, so the next time Eggman comes back and wants to start any trouble with you, or any of my friends. Emeralds or no emeralds, he’s gonna have to get past me and he won’t!”

Sonic By Episode 1′s End: Aww, yeah! Adventure, here we come!

Tails By Episode 10′s End: Aww, yeah! Adventure, here I come!

Turn your thoughts into power. Be all that you can be.

     The ending legit got me choked up because what of they decided to do for wrapping up Tails journey in a poetic fashion. Having Tails go off on his own separate journey to grow more independence pulled on my heart strings perfectly. Very much so, as I’m transitioning slowly, but surely, into gaining more freedom to go out into the outside world in my own life. Concluding the story, by Sonic & Tails holding onto the two Emeralds their bond had formed from positive energy, due to their powerful friendship, was so heartwarming. This is how you write an overview of what makes Sonic & Tails chemistry work so well as it does.

     Sonic & Tails R’s ending represents while some things never change, like Sonic and Tails bond for each other, it also shows there’s very much a necessity for people to grow, hence Tails’ whole solo journey in the epilogue. People can’t stay in the same place forever and will need go about finding their own path, even if it means saying “goodbye” periodically for a notable amount of time.

     It’s for these reasons I’ve listed in great explanation above throughout this detailed post cement Sonic & Tails R high on my list of favorite Sonic fan projects. They captured the magic of what made the Adventure games so beloved. Gonna be looking back on this passion project for many years to come. Everyone involved in this year long effort of a project dating all the way back Summer of 2020 ought to be immensely proud for how much their hard efforts paid off in the long run.

Thanks for taking the time to read my thoughts here! 

Hope you enjoyed. 

[hekatekun]

fuck it, meatbun

ANONYMOUS ASKED: please tell me about your many things to say about the meatbun scene.......

yeah ofc 😋 i'd say it's a similar gag to the self-awareness/self-conscious balls in the rising skit so i'm pulling a lot from that too, and my interpretation of that relies on [great-blaster's translation and analysis] 🙏 a great post

If the balls are personifications of being self-conscious, their sensitivity and awareness to how others perceive them, then the meat buns could be what they contribute to society.

King of NEETs himself, Osomatsu is a Me Myself & I kinda guy in order to survive the way he does. There is no future for him in his head, and he lives in the moment on his animal instincts. Instant gratification (booze, porn, gambling), right here, right now, who cares about anything else. Fun in the sun all day long, but when you realize that's truly all that Osomatsu does, even at the expense of himself and others, it leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

And to combat the distaste people have for him, he just doesn't care! You'd have to be pretty apathetic to your reputation in order to continue doing what you please - especially when the costs are high.

Interestingly enough, him and Ichimatsu are the only buns who immediately "die" with white eyes when you open them up. Perhaps he's so unpleasant so he can continue doing his own thing, and being expected to do anything worthwhile or meaningful is too much for the eldest.

TLDR: "I dunno if you should eat me, I taste pretty bad, hahaha!"

Expectations, reputation, such things are the bane of the fourth's existence. He wants nothing more than to be accepted and have a social life, but that involves the mortifying ordeal of Being Known. He knows his limits, he can't fake it without insane periods of burnout, so he'd rather be repugnant and ward off other people's attempts at getting to know him. But unlike Osomatsu, instead of having people expect nothing from him, people will now expect Bad Shit as a result of perceiving Ichimatsu.

Which is all of course a cover up for his vulnerability. Hermit tendencies to avoid knowing what someone's initial impression of him is going to amount to. Don't worry, he already knows. And if he puts out the same "bad" into the world that he expects the receive from others, he can be free of its burden (and will fail every single time because he still cares too much).

Without further ado, our space cadet.

Indescribable, unpredictable, everything, nothing. Brimming with an internal, seemingly endless amount of energy, Jyushimatsu is capable of pulling off the impossible. He can fill in any role needed and works well with everyone, but only if you can handle him. If Ichimatsu is “not enough,” then Jyushimatsu is “too much.” He’s a one-man band.

Not to say he isn’t aware, he just possibly doesn’t care. Looking at a bigger picture, or simply not paying attention altogether. He doesn’t bother reining himself in because it’s more fun to be wild, and he has nothing to hide should people try to get close. Though, there’s always consequences to be had for such unadulterated fun.

When he breaks open, his iconic troubled expression pops up. Maybe he’s uncomfortable stepping up to bat and putting that energy to “good use.”

What a surprise: Your vapid tryhards have nothing of substance to provide. Maybe stop putting so much time into your appearance and build a personality, hm? Primping and preening and absolutely nothing to show for it. Even if you figure them out, they still wouldn’t break character for you. Reality can’t touch the uber self-conscious.

great-blaster says that self-awareness should be swapped with self-conscious, the acute form of being intimately self-aware of your social standing. Choromatsu is embarrassed about being a neet with nerdy interests, doesn’t mean he has any intention of letting them truly go.

And if you’re a little smarter about how you impose such feelings on people, you’ll go on to lie, weaponizing such embarrassment. Doesn’t mean you’ll succeed, people can smell slime a mile away.

Karamatu’s is the only one of these 3 that’s on the smaller side and the only 1 of all 6 that’s clear!

Legit transparency! Empty-headedness! Makes sense that he doesn’t have the same type of self-consciousness as the other two, even if he’s just as much talk and no action, you don’t strut like a genuine peacock in public unless you can own up to it. Karamatsu’s appeal is to himself first and foremost, he thinks others who like the same will come along soon enough (and is also maybe too terrified to make the first move). He’s an open book ready for the taking, doesn’t mean he’s got anything to really offer, though. Doesn’t help when you can’t break character and express yourself, either (not that he has the self-awareness to grasp this particular problem anyway).

And I think Chibita summarizes the story’s moral quite well

[nerdythebard]

#12: The Doctor [Doctor Who]

Brother, I disown you...

I don't know what my friend/chosen brother was thinking when he made this request... Actually, no, I know exactly what he was thinking! Well, no time to dawdle, let's do this Time Warp. Again.

Next Time: Before we return to the gods, I want to make a character very close to my heart. He is also a Doctor... only, word of warning, he's a little... Strange.

Well then... sigh, let's see the goals we need to meet to make the most brilliant alien in television playable in D&D:

Heroes Never Die: The signature ability of a Time Lord (and the most problematic), a way to cheat death and return to life. Yes, somehow we need to make a virtually immortal character in Dungeons & Dragons...

Bunny-Ears Lawyer: Even in his relatively serious regenerations, the Doctor is prone to flashes of randomness, acts of nonsense, mixing puns and physical comedy to often hide the incredibly fast and advanced brain processes.

Go-Go Gadget Galore: Do I even need to say anything? Besides his trusty TARDIS (which will not be included here, we're making the Doctor, not his equipment!), the Doctor also brandishes sonic devices of multiple varieties, psychic paper, the thing that goes DING, etc.

---

As you can imagine, finding the right race replacement for Time Lords wasn't easy. I'm definitely not using The-Movie-That-Does-Not-Exist solution, and making the Doctor... half-human, urgh. All we need to do is find a humanoid, almost-fossil race that can come back from death a limited amount of times.

The Doctor is a Human Revenant, a playtest race from Unearthed Arcana: Gothic Heroes. In-game, Revenant is an undead that came back to life to pursue a certain goal, whether it's vengeance, retribution, or to make amends. Putting some flavour into it, and turning it into a long-living, mysterious being who perhaps came from the Astral Plane to search for a way to save his home planet... why not? Regular Revenants get only a +1 to Constitution, but if we're using pre-existing race (such as Human), there's another set of rules. So, we get a +1 Constitution and +1 Intelligence, and we don't get to pick a skill or a feat. Not yet.

What's most important here is the Revenant's Relentless Nature feature. We are assigned a goal, a very specific one, that we must complete in order to achieve peace. Work with your DM on that one (the saving-your-home-world one from before sounds like a good start). Until we complete the goal:

If we are below Hit Points Maximum, at the start of our turn we regain 1 Hit Point;

We know the distance and direction to any creature involved in our goal (perhaps a fellow, once-friend Time Lord?);

When we die, we come back to life within 24 hours with 1 Hit Point. If our body is destroyed, we come back in a spot within 1 mile of our place of death (unfortunately, our equipment is destroyed);

BOOM! JUST FLAVOUR EACH DEATH AS A CHANGE OF FACE AND PERSONALITY, AND WE HAVE THE REGENERATION SYSTEM! HAH! YOU SEE THAT, BROTHER!?

Ekhm... back to work, then.

The Doctor is pretty far from home, so giving him the Far Traveller background seems like the right approach. We gain proficiencies in Insight and Perception skills, proficiencies with one musical instrument (perhaps a recorder?)/gaming set, we learn one language of our choice, and we get the All Eyes on You feature; our mannerisms and quirks definitely draw attention towards us and our group, but we can take advantage of that in order to fish for some information, secure an audience with the local nobleman, or... I dunno, snog Madame de Pompadour?

ABILITY SCORES

No surprise there, we start with Intelligence. We have a literal Big Galaxy Brain™ and we use it often, and only sometimes to show off. Follow that up with Dexterity, we're nimble and we're doing a lot of running, especially when being chased (plus, we've invented the Drunken Giraffe dance). Constitution is next, the Gallifreyan biology is significantly superior to that of regular Terrans.

Next up, Charisma. It usually works, sometimes it doesn't, but even then we're kinda adorkable. Wisdom is a little low, I think we all shall agree to that, the Doctor is a creature of whim. He gets lost in thought, has a hard time remembering to explain his logic to others. Finally, we're dumping Strength. Now, we're definitely physically stronger than humans, I just don't remember any particular feats of super-strength in the show.

Heck, you want even more Time Lord shenanigans? Ask your DM to implement the "every death/regeneration makes all ability scores randomly switch places" rule.

CLASS

Level 1 - Artificer: Once again, nobody is surprised we begin with the Smart & Techy One™ for the Doctor. Artificers were brought to 5e via Tasha's Cauldron of Everything. These magical tinkers have d8 Hit Dice, [8 + Constitution modifier] initial Hit Points, proficiencies with light armour, medium armour, heavy armour, shields, simple weapons, and optionally firearms (although that's definitely not the Doctor's style). We additionally get proficiency with thieves' tools, tinker's tools, and one set of artisan's tools we choose. We can't get the sonic screwdriver (although if you want one, hint to your DM about the existence of the All-Purpose Tool), we have all these tools to replace it with. Our saving throws are Constitution and Intelligence, and we get to pick two class skills: let's get History and Investigation.

Artificers start with Magical Tinkering, an ability to bestow harmless magical properties onto inanimate objects. We choose a Tiny object with no magic in it, and grant it one of the following properties indefinitely:

It sheds bright light for 5 feet and dim light for an additional 5;

Whenever tapped, the object plays a recorded message no longer than six seconds;

The object continuously emits a smell or a sound of our choice;

A static image (picture, lines of text, shapes, etc.) appear on the object's surface.

Artificers are also casters, so at the first level, we get Spellcasting. Our casting ability is, of course, Intelligence and the number of spells we can prepare is equal to [our Intelligence modifier + half of our Artificer level rounded down]. We also know how to cast rituals.

We start with two cantrips:

Magic Stone lets us imbue three pebbles with magic (or perhaps, in this case, kinetic energy?) for 1 minute. We can then use the pebbles ourselves, or give them to somebody else. On a successful hit, the target suffers [1d6 + our Intelligence modifier] bludgeoning damage and the spell ends on that particular pebble.

Prestidigitation is a cantrip of plenty varieties, which very well could be disguised as the Doctor's tinkering with his sonic screwdriver. It can be used to warm or chill food, clean or soil objects, or perhaps lighting and snuffing our small flames.

We start with two 1st-level spell slots, and we get three 1st-level spells:

Alarm sets up a secured perimeter, no larger than a 20-feet cube, for 8 hours. Whenever a create not-designated as safe while setting the spell, crosses its boundary, we get a signal informing us about the intrusion, which also wakes us up if we're sleeping. The signal can be set to inform only us, or everybody around.

Detect Magic informs us of any magical activity within 30 feet of us for 10 minutes (concentration). We sense magic lingering on objects, people, as well as locations, and we can determine the type of magic present (but not a particular spell, for example, we sense that a spell on the object is enchantment-type, but not that it's Power Word: Kill).

Identify is... pretty much the one function of the sonic screwdriver we've all seen. It lets us learn about an object we choose, including its magical properties (if any) and if it's affected by any spells. And it works on wood!

With a spell list like that, we can safely say

Level 2 - Artificer: We continue with the Tech Savvy Class, and we learn the Artificer's signature skill, Infuse Item. It lets us bestow magical properties onto mundane items. Similarly to Warlock's Invocations, Artificers have Infusions they can select and put into items. Starting from this level, we can infuse two items at once, and we get to pick four Infusions from the list. For the Doctor, let's pick:

Replicate Magic Item: Bag of Holding is probably the most useful infusion in the early game. The infusion does exactly what it says, and a Bag of Holding is always a good item to own (just watch out for the Bag Man!)

Enhanced Defence infusion puts some extra protection (+1 to AC) onto an armour or a shield.

Mind Sharpener is a helping hand for any spellcaster. The infusion put onto an armour, or woven into a robe, sends a jolt to re-focus the mind. When the wearer fails a Constitution saving throw to keep their concentration, one charge (out of four) of the infusion expends, to make them succeed instead. The charges are refilled at dawn.

Returning Weapon gives a +1 to attack and damage rolls of the weapon it's applied on and makes it return to the wielder's hand immediately after it's used to make a ranged attack. With the keyword "immediately", it gives your Rangers and other bow-users infinite ammunition with just one arrow.

We can also get one more 1st-level spell: Disguise Self changes our appearance for 1 hour, or until we choose to dismiss it as an action. The spell affects our body, clothing, and items we carry (including weapons). It is not a physical disguise, just an illusion woven around us; if we make ourselves thinner than we really are, and somebody was to touch the space where our regular body would be, they're going to feel the body, albeit invisible. For the Doctor, this seems like a combination of psychic paper and the Chameleon Circuit.

Level 3 - Artificer: At this level, we get the Right Tool for the Job feature. If we have thieves' tools or artisan's tools in hand, we can create any other set of artisan's tools.

We also get to pick our subclass, our Artificer Specialization. The Doctor is no alchemist, and we'll probably build Tony Stark at some time in the future, therefore we're picking Battle Smith. Those tinkers are masters of protections, being able to put up defensive mechanisms on the spot. Since the Doctor is a diplomat first, runner second, and combatant very close and reluctant third, focusing on support is a good option.

As a Battle Smith, we gain proficiencies with smith's tools, and we gain some more magic with Battle Smith Spells:

Heroism imbues the willing creature with bravery. Until the spell ends (1 minute, concentration), the target is immune to being frightened and gains Temporary Hit Points equal to our Intelligence modifier at the start of each of their turns (AKA every six seconds). When the spell ends, any Temporary Hit Points remaining are lost.

Shield creates an invisible barrier as a reaction to getting hit. It adds +5 to our AC until the start of our next turn.

Although a reluctant fighter, the Doctor as a Battle Smith also gets the Battle Ready feature. We gain proficiency with martial weapons, and when we attack with a magic weapon, we can use our Intelligence modifier instead of Strength or Dexterity for attack and damage rolls.

Finally, Battle Smiths get the Steel Defender. With our tinkering, we create our first companion, a steel defender; it is friendly to us and our companions and obeys our commands. With that, we got ourselves the one and only K9

Level 4 - Artificer: At this level, we get our first Ability Score Improvement! However, instead of upgrading our abilities this time, we'll grab a feat. The Telepathic feat from Tasha's Cauldron of Everything will represent the Doctor's limited psychic abilities: we increase one of our non-physical abilities by 1, let's go for Intelligence. We can speak telepathically to any creature within 60 feet, but the creature cannot reply (unless they're telepathic too, of course). Finally, we can touch a Detect Thoughts spell once per long rest, without a need to expend spell slots. Give your target a good headbutt, and learn their surface thoughts.

We also get our final spell: Catapult turns one inanimate object that isn't worn or carried (and weighs from 1 to 5 pounds) and turns it into a remote projectile. The object flies in a straight line for 90 feet before losing its momentum and falling. If it hits a creature, they have to make a Dexterity saving throw or take 3d8 bludgeoning damage. Distract your pursuers with a head of cabbage flying at their heads.

Level 5 - Rogue: We say goodbye to the Artificer, as we move onto Rogue for the rest of the build. Rogues use the same Hit Dice as Artificers, so nothing really changes when it comes to our Hit Points. We already have proficiency with light armour and thieves' tools, but we can pick one class skill – let's pick Acrobatics for better running and parkour chances when escaping aliens and responsibilities.

Rogues start with Expertise, which lets us double our proficiency bonus (NOT ability modifier) for two skills of our choice: let's boost Insight and History, to best utilize our centuries of living. We also learn how to speak Thieves' Cant, a special system of phrases and signals used by other Rogues to communicate without revealing their secrets. Finally, we have Sneak Attack: once per turn we can add 1d6 extra damage if a) we have an advantage on our roll, or b) the target is within 5 feet of another creature hostile towards it. The attack must be done by either a ranged weapon or one with the finesse property (like a dagger or a rapier).

Level 6 - Rogue: We get Cunning Action, which let us turn some Actions we can do in combat into Bonus Actions. That way, we still have an Action to spare if we decide to use Dash, Disengage, or Hide. Considering how much running the Doctor does, it's good to have something else to do just in case.

Level 7 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack changes to 2d6.

We also get to pick our second subclass, our Roguish Archetype. Now, initially, I considered going Swashbuckler, as it combines nimble footwork and gives us some charm abilities. However, since we're going with the build that emphasizes support and actual combat as a last resort, we'll go with Inquisitive.

We start this subclass with Ear for Deceit, whenever we roll Insight checks to determine if a creature is lying to us, we treat each roll of 7 or lower as 8.

We also get Eye for Detail. This is mostly to be used in combat (or if your DM runs dungeons in Initiative Mode), as it allows us to use Perception or Investigation checks as a bonus action, where it would normally take an action.

Finally, Inquisitive Rogues get Insightful Fighting. As a bonus action, we can make an Insight check, contested by the enemy's Deception check. If we succeed, for 1 minute we can use our Sneak Attack on the target even if we don't have an advantage or the target isn't near another of its enemies.

Level 8 - Rogue: Time for another ASI! Let's raise our Intelligence by 1 point, and use the spare one for Strength.

Level 9 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack changes to 3d6.

We also get Uncanny Dodge. Whenever we're being hit by an attack, we can use our reaction to halve the damage dealt.

Level 10 - Rogue: Halfway through the build, and we get another shot at Expertise. Once again, we get two skills to which we can double our proficiency bonus. Let's go with Perception and Investigation.

Level 11 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 4d6.

We also get one of the better abilities in the game, Evasion. If we're being targeted by an AoE attack that would deal half damage on a successful Dexterity saving throw, we take no damage if we make the save. What that means is, we can now take a Fireball face-on, shrug it off and loudly proclaim

Level 12 - Rogue: We get another ASI. Let's improve our Dexterity by two points this time.

Level 13 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 5d6.

We also get another subclass feature. Steady Eye gives us an advantage on Perception or Investigation checks if we move no more than half of our movement speed on our turn.

Level 14 - Rogue: Time for another ASI. Let's focus on getting some more Hit Points this time, and get +2 points to Constitution.

Level 15 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 6d6.

At this level, we get Reliable Talent, which upgrades our abilities to almost anime protagonist-level. Whenever we make a check for a skill we're proficient in, we treat all rolls of 9 and lower as 10.

Level 16 - Rogue: We're getting one more ASI. Let's raise our Dexterity again, putting 2 points in it.

Level 17 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 7d6.

We get our final subclass upgrade for this build, the Unerring Eye. We can now sense illusions and magical tricks within 30 feet, as well as shapechangers not in their original form. We can detect there is an effect trying to trick our senses around us, but we don't know its nature (i.e. if we meet a creature that activates our sense, we cannot distinguish whether it's a Disguise Self spell, or a natural shapeshifting ability, or a Druid's Wild Shape).

Level 18 - Rogue: We get another one of the best abilities in the game, Blindsense. We can now detect the presence of invisible and hidden creatures within 10 feet radius of us.

Level 19 - Rogue: Our Sneak Attack becomes 8d6.

Our mind becomes more slippery with Slippery Mind. We gain proficiency in Wisdom saving throws.

Level 20 - Rogue: Our build's capstone is Rogue 16, which is also our final ASI. Let's finally cap Intelligence, as it should've been from the start when it comes to Time Lords.

---

There it is. My take on how to play as the Doctor in Dungeons & Dragons. I believe I've covered most if not all of the important features the Doctor has, but let's see:

Let's face it, we're not a frontline fighter... we're not even a backline fighter. We support. With 14 AC (without armour), 151 Hit Points on average, and a +4 to Initiative, our job is to manoeuvre, around the battlefield and let our friends take care of the enemy, while we do other things. With Reliable Talent and Expertise we are great at sweeping the room for clues and hints, even if in the heat of battle. Thanks to Unerring Eye and Blindsense, our senses aren't that easy to fool.

Unfortunately, our Strength is not great, and that means some weapons are just a hindrance (unless we pick a finesse weapon, which replaces Strength with Dexterity). While we have late-game proficiency in Wisdom saving throws, throughout the earlier stages those might prove a little problem.

---

And that is it for this build. I hope that you guys enjoyed it, and I'll see you for the next one!

- Nerdy out!

[tomorrowsdrama]

Live-blogging Bulgasal ep 1 / spoilers I guess?

=======================

Omg this cinematography 😍

Man, you know you’re fucked when the flesh eating monster runs away from you.

If Bulgasal is so powerful, how come he can’t find the poor boy? You’re telling me he can slaughter that villager’s family but couldn’t bother traveling another mile or so to get to him? Kinda lazy, Bulgasal. You gotta be willing to take that extra step if you want to succeed in life.

Omg these villagers are literally chasing this poor boy with pitch forks. I hate them all, you go get them Bulgasal.

Dad you bastard, how can you leave him behind and toss off his hand like that!

Hm, who are you mysterious pretty lady played by Kwon Nara?

General, I just met you, but I already love you. You’re gonna die, aren’t you?

Get this damn old witch off my tv screen.

Ffffuuuuck he’s so hot.

I’m so glad Korea is finally leaning more into the whole period fantasy/folklore fare. Mmmaybe they can even start adapting some web novels from *coughmeatbuncough*

Omg this man needs to stfu. Hot Cursed Hobo literally saved all y’all so don’t even start with that cursed bullshit

Fffffuuuu he should not look this hot tending to the huge stab wound in his gut.

Aww I love General Dad. He’s the rare good kdrama father, and in a period drama no less! So yeah, he’s going to die isn’t he.

Oof of course his baby died. Because Hot Cursed Hobo hasn’t suffered enough.

Lady, If you despise his cursed self so much, maybe you shouldn’t have married/banged him.

Omg and he has a blind son too? Oh god and he’s too scared to touch his son even though he’s reaching out to him like he did with his own father. And it’s because he’s afraid of tainting him further with his curse and oh gooooood the angst.

*don’t get turned on by the tortured man grabbing the sword with his bare hand and sliding it down the blade*

Omg he just called her a monster! And I don’t think he meant it in a demeaning way. And that’s why he married her.

Ok I don’t know why but I kinda ship this. They were so happy together when they were children and he empathized with her because she was different just like him. Ugh and now she hates him and wants to kill him and I’m oddly into it.

Oh jeez, these villagers are still killing poor young boys? Ugh why won’t this old witch just die already.

Who ARE you pretty lady? And what shampoo do you use because damn those are some gorgeous flowing locks you have.

I don’t know where they shot this drama but I hope they keep shooting dramas in this landscape.

OMG WTF WHAT REALLY? Her?!

Ahh his poor son. This poor baby. He’s never been held by his father and thinks he hates him. Stoooop. You’ve already stomped all over my heart drama.

Honestly, at this point I think Bulgasal is missing Hot Cursed Hobo on purpose.

Nooooooo, not the boy. And not while he’s calling out to his father. Drama, you did NOT make the first time he held his son also his last time. Omg and even with his last breath he reached for his father’s face just so he’d know what he looked like. Ok, I need a fucking moment right now.

Noo drama, don’t you fucking start with the happy fantasy sequences.

Pretty long haired lady, wtf is your deal?!

This man seriously has not known a single moment of peace from the moment he was born.

=========

Well! That was quite the first episode. I wonder if his son is going to be reborn and if we’ll see him again. They kept fixating on the fact that he doesn’t know what his father’s face looks like so I dunno, I feel like it might come into play later on. Or not, who knows. Now onto the second episode!

[anubislover]

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 19: Lying Hearts

“How can anyone stand to live in a city like this?” Nami grumbled as the light glinted off of yet another painfully white building. True, the setting sun had lessened the glare slightly, but after an entire afternoon of it, she was developing quite the headache, even with the sunglasses.

Law shrugged and continued walking at a leisurely pace, still unaffected. “I’m sure if you’re born somewhere like this it’s easier, but people can learn to tolerate almost anything given enough time, I suppose.”

“Do you think you’d be able to learn to tolerate bread?”

“I said almost. I’d sooner die of starvation.”

She shook her head with a chuckle but kept pace, following his lead. Instead of heading straight back to the submarine, Law had insisted on a few detours through Atifakuto—partially in case anyone had grown suspicious and decided to follow them, but also to scope out potential escape routes under the guise of sightseeing. Nami, for her part, had been exceedingly helpful in this, mapping out in her head which stairways lead where and pointing out various places to hide. If Law found her compliance suspicious, he didn’t say anything; it was in their best interest to work together, especially with some potentially valuable goods on the line, so her behavior was easily rationalized.

For her, however, there was more than artifacts or even belli at stake. This heist had to go well. She needed Law to trust her enough to open up about why he was so obsessed with Amber Lead. Perhaps if he could do that, she wouldn’t even have to sneak into his quarters to take a look at the ledgers. She could just ask and he’d let her in like a rational human being.

Of course, in order for either of their plans to succeed they needed to know where the vase was. Luckily, the rest of the Hearts hadn’t been sitting idle on the submarine. They’d been investigating every possible gallery, art collector, museum, and auction house their prize could possibly be at. The second they had a lead, they’d call on the mini Den Den Mushi.

Until then, though, Law and Nami were forced to meander about the city, planning and killing time.

“So, while we wait for some intel, what else are you going to buy me?” she asked as they wandered the fourth level. They’d passed quite a few shops, and while most had stocked dull business suits similar to the last store, Nami felt her bags were tragically light. They were in a beautiful-if-blinding city, and she was walking away with only one outfit? What a travesty.

Snorting dismissively, Law glanced down at her with a clear look of are you kidding me? on his face. “Nothing. I told you I was only getting you one outfit. I’m your captain, not your sugar daddy.”

“You know, for a man who wants this little job to go well, you’re not putting in nearly the effort you should,” she quipped, a sly smile on her lips, eyelashes fluttering prettily. “I’m supposed to look professional and put together if I’m gonna pull off being your lovely assistant. That means I need matching shoes and accessories. Maybe a cute leather purse or briefcase to really sell it.”

“If you want those so badly then buy them yourself. Or,” he smirked, halting his pace to turn around and catch her chin between his fingers, tilting her head up towards him as he stepped in close enough so she could feel his body heat, “you earn them by doing certain favors for daddy.”

Her cheeks only pinkened a little at his innuendos while she stuck out her tongue and shoved him away. Last night’s dream wasn’t quite as close to the forefront of her mind anymore, but that didn’t mean his smirk didn’t do things to her she’d rather ignore. “Pass. You should know by now that it takes more than clothes for me to play nice.”

“Mmm, I do. That’s what makes it so much fun,” he purred, gold eyes glinting in wicked amusement. One gloved hand was shoved into his pocket while his free arm slung itself casually over her shoulder as he continued stalking along the fastidiously clean road. “But since you’re currently insisting on being a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man to provide for her, you can instead borrow some shoes from Ikkaku, and she might still have a pair of glasses or something from the time she pretended to be a receptionist at a Naval base.”

Brown eyes widened at his statement. Not because he was suggesting that she borrow clothes or anything, but the bombshell he’d just casually dropped in light of her recent discovery.

“Was this for one of your plans?” she asked, shoulders stiffening.

He shrugged like it was no big deal, though he did give her a curious glance at the way she tensed beneath him. “Yeah. We needed someone on the inside, and they’d put out an advertisement for an attractive female in her early twenties. It’s not like Uni or Penguin could do it.”

“But…holy shit, Law, are you serious?” she hissed, dragging him over to an unoccupied part of the street behind a solitary gated tree so she could scold him in private. There weren’t too many people about, but the last thing they need was to get unwanted attention because they’d caused a scene, even if Law totally deserved to get chewed out at the top of her lungs for being such an asshole. “Ikkaku has Marine brothers who want her dead and you sent her into the lion’s den? What the fuck?!”

Caught off-guard by her anger, Law’s eyebrows shot up briefly before furrowing. “She told you about them?”

Damn. In her shock and anger on her friend’s behalf, she’d forgotten that this was a subject she wasn’t technically supposed to know. But instead of admitting guilt, she doubled down and threw on her best poker face.

“Yeah. She told me,” she lied easily. Too easily. It came as naturally as it had back in the days she’d been working under Arlong, getting close to pirates by lying through her teeth and then robbing them blind. How many crews and captains had she deceived before Luffy? Nami had honestly lost count, but once she’d joined up with the Straw Hats, lying to a supposed ally hadn’t been quite as instinctual.

But this isn’t Luffy, and Law’s keeping way more secrets than I am, she rationalized. It’s just a little white lie anyway. He’d be way more pissed at Shachi and Penguin for telling me. I’m looking after those guys.

Law’s expression hardened, and for a moment she wondered if he’d seen through her bluff. She didn’t think she’d gotten too rusty in the lying department, but Law was smart and distrusting in general, so she couldn’t quite tell. Trepidation hung heavy in the air as she waited for him to speak, mind going a mile a minute coming up with new lies and explanations to appease him. Worse came to worst, she could throw the guys under the bus, even if she didn’t really want to, but they were his best friends, so Law would doubtlessly be more forgiving towards them, right?

Thankfully, it seemed his anger came from a completely different place, as he snarled quietly through clenched teeth, “Nami-ya, I am, as you have pointed out rather frequently in the past, a control freak. Do you really think I would devise a plan that required sending my top mechanic into a Marine base if there was even a chance she could be recognized? Especially by her utter shit of a brother?”

She flinched at the vitriol in his voice. It seemed she’d touched a nerve, and unless she wanted to lose all the progress she’d worked for, she knew it was best to back down. “Sorry. You’re right.”

“I’ll accept your apology if you tell me what prompted her to tell you,” he stated, crossing his arms. “It’s not information she makes widely known, even to those who are permanent members of my crew.”

Well. At least this was easy enough to justify, and she’d be doing both Law and Ikkaku a favor, right? Sure, the guys would obviously tell him later, but being the first to warn him might earn her a few more crumbs of trust. “There was an article in the paper about Marine reinforcements coming to the Grand Line. Ushi was interviewed. He seemed pretty intent on taking down the Heart Pirates.”

Law froze, his frown deepening into a dark sneer. The tic in his jaw and the way his fists clenched reminded her of his reaction to Ikkaku having been attacked on Grimm. “That fucker will stay away from Ikkaku if he’s got any brains in him.”

“You’re pretty protective of her,” she said. Sure, he’d perhaps phrased his defense in a way that implied his priority was the plan, it was clear from the hiss in his voice that Ikkaku’s safety had been genuinely considered.

The brim of his hat hid his eyes as he stated, “I’m protective of all my crew. She’s just…it’s hard to find submarine engineers, let alone ones as skilled as her. Ikkaku’s hard to replace.”

Well that stinks to high heaven of bullshit, she thought. Sure, the Surgeon of Death had a rightly-earned cruel reputation, but he’d shown time and again his crew meant a lot to him. Stepping in close, she used her finger to lift his hat enough to see his expression unobstructed. “Is that why you let her sass you? Because if she walked you’d be dead in the water?”

The gold orbs glared down at her, though the held no heat. “Everyone on the crew is a vital component. Like gears in a well-oiled machine. You’ve gotta take care of them to make sure they don’t break.”

When Nami merely raised a disbelieving eyebrow, he sighed, body deflating slightly. “Look, Nami-ya, everyone on my crew, we’ve all got shit in our pasts. Some have overcome it. Some still carry the scars. Ikkaku…hers is one of the few that’s actively still trying to get her. So yeah, maybe I’m a bit more protective, but it’s for a damn good reason.”

Ok, now that was a fair point. “I’m surprised you haven’t just killed him.”

“Oh, I want to,” he snarled. “No brother should try to hurt their siblings. They’re supposed to look after them. The only reason Ushi-ya still draws breath is because Ikkaku begged me to spare his pathetic life.”

It suddenly dawned on Nami that, despite his criticizing Luffy for not being more bloodthirsty, Law was…surprisingly merciful in his own ways, too. He didn’t murder Ikkaku’s brother, despite having clear reason to, just because she asked. He rescued Jean Bart from a life of slavery despite not knowing him. And while she didn’t fully understand the Ope Ope no Mi’s powers, she wondered if his cuts didn’t draw blood because he didn’t want them to?

She wasn’t sure if he had a complexity addiction or if he genuinely wanted to minimize bloodshed, but once again another side of the incredibly fascinating man had been revealed.

Taking a deep breath to calm his anger, he gave Nami a sadistic smile. “Doesn’t mean I let him off the hook with a sternly-worded warning, though. Wanna know what I did to him the last time we met?”

Nami turned a bit green as she remembered Jinzo’s still-beating heart in his hands. Complex and caring towards his crew or not, he was still a twisted bastard. “Fuck no!”

Briefly he pouted at not getting to regale her with the gory details before shrugging. “Pity. It was quite the eventful evening. In fact, it was also the night of mine and Drake-ya’s first kiss.”

“How the hell are those two things connected?!”

“Well, I had to distract him somehow. He was guarding my poor mechanic like a dragon would a virtuous princess.”

Before she could demand more details, or even snort at the idea of Ikkaku being virtuous, the sound of the mini Den Den Mushi reached their ears, interrupting the conversation.

Looking around to make sure there weren’t any eavesdroppers, Law pulled out the little snail phone and clicked down on the top. “Guessing you’ve got something for me?”

“I do,” the snail answered, and Nami recognized the faint accent that indicated they were speaking to Cousteau. “Only one place that specializes in North Blue history. Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. It’s an auction house and gallery on the fifth level, a block away from the Elevate Deliverer Restoration Church.”

“Well that’s a needlessly long name,” he quipped, rolling his eyes. Mentally, Nami had to agree, though it also sounded vaguely familiar. “At least that makes it easier to find. Anything else I should know? Other landmarks, nearby guard stations, that sort of thing?”

There was a moment of hesitation before Cousteau replied, “No station, though there would probably be at least a few guards wandering around at night. It’s, uh, right by a fountain. Blessings from the White City.”

Nami’s eyes widened a little. Oh. Now she remembered. That had been the church with the huge stained-glass windows. The one in her book, by the tribute to Flevance.

“…I see.”

The little snail chewed its lip, clearly concerned. “Captain, if you want, I can do all the surveillance—”

“It’s fine,” he cut in, tone sharp before smoothing out, “I saw it earlier. In fact, I’m glad it’s so close. Nami-ya and I will check out the gallery. We’re nearby and I’d rather see it with my own eyes to get the lay of the land. Unless anyone else has a better lead, you and the others can head back to the ship.”

“Understood, sir. Anything else you need?” he asked, sounding relieved.

“Just tell Clione I might have a job for him later on, so don’t make any evening plans.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

The call ended, and Nami peered up at Law, expecting signs of the same darkness that had crossed his face when they’d visited the fountain earlier. Instead, his face was totally blank, staring down at the tiny snail, expressionless.

Somehow, that was far, far more unnerving.

“Law?” she asked, touching his arm hesitantly.

As if awoken from a trance he shook his head before smirking down at her. “Well, hope you don’t mind one last detour before heading back to the ship? I know it’s more stairs but look on the bright side; at this rate, the definition of your calf muscles will be a thing of beauty.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, turning on his heels and heading towards the direction of the stairs to the next level. Frowning, she began to doubt whether or not this was all a good idea. She didn’t know exactly what his deal was, but she really felt like he was too close to this. But she had the feeling trying to talk him out of it would be an exercise in futility, and would set her back far more than any lie she might spin.

Oh well, she sighed internally, jogging to catch up, so long as he doesn’t do anything stupid. He’s sensible enough to keep a cool head, no matter what his problem is. It’ll be fine.

While it wasn’t far, it took longer than either of them would have expected to actually find Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. Mainly because it was a surprisingly nondescript building compared to the opulent churches and museums nearby. Honestly, based on the exterior, one could easily have passed it by. Like everything else the building was pristinely white, the windows boasting small arches over them and flower boxes containing white impatiens. Really, the most impressive thing about it was the marble plaque out front boasting the company’s name in gold leaf.

But the two pirates didn’t really care about the appearance; it was what was inside that counted. That, and the information board out front, which stated in bold, black letters that there would be a showing and auction of North Blue artworks at 8pm that evening.

“Why don’t you just Scan the place, grab the vase, and walk away? Seems like that would be easy compared to putting on this charade?” Nami asked, eyeing the building. It was hardly Harpin’s mansion; it would take almost no effort for Law to use his powers to steal every item of value inside it, replacing artifacts, paintings, and money with pebbles and potted plants with a mere flick of his fingers, then teleporting them away to safety.

Really, if he weren’t such an ass, Trafalgar Law would be a thief’s dream partner.

Of course, he was an ass, so he gave her a look that implied he considered her question to be phenomenally stupid. “Because there’s no guarantee that the vase is even in there—for all I know it’s being kept in a secondary location until the actual event for security or health reasons. It is a relic from a city that suffered a notorious death toll both before and after the World Government had quarantined it,” he explained lowly. “On top of that, my Room would draw too much attention, so if it’s not in there, we’ll have blown our whole cover and probably the operation.”

Though disappointed that they couldn’t just whisk it away with his powers, she conceded that he had a point. Versatile and useful as they were, the Ope Ope no Mi’s abilities did have their drawbacks. Actually infiltrating the auction house was a safer move.

Yet for a moment, she saw Law glare at the building, as if he were equally frustrated that they couldn’t just grab their prize and go. Perhaps even a great mastermind like him sometimes wished to take the direct path. “At least we can be sure it’ll be presented at this auction,” he reassured, almost as much to himself as her as his hand rested on Nami’s lower back while he escorted her away. “Makes it easier to come up with a plan and contingencies when I actually know the target. My crew did good.”

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger in thought. She supposed he was right, and the pride in his voice when he mentioned the Hearts’ contribution…well, she knew better than to argue with that. Seemed the lesson he learned on the last island was sticking. “Still too bad we don’t have blueprints like Harpin’s house, though.”

“It can’t be helped. That was a job I’d been planning for months. This is more…spontaneous. Why? Scared and looking to back out?” he asked, glancing down at her with a challenging grin.

Nami scoffed. She was a thief that specialized in robbing pirates. Sure, she was a scaredy-cat, but when treasure of some kind was at stake, there were few risks she wouldn’t take. “Not a chance. Just pointing out that we’re going in more blind than last time.”

“Maybe, but at least our prize will be out in the open and not in the home of a former Marine with tentacles. Hell, we might even get it legally.”

“Law,” she started, brow furrowing. She wasn’t scared, but she did have a reasonable concern, especially with how intent he seemed on this one item. “What are we going to do if we don’t win the vase?”

The pair stopped by the Flevance fountain, Law taking a long moment to stare solemnly at the beautiful white angels. Without a word he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small coin, pressing it to his lips before flipping it into the water.

When he turned back to her, his gold eyes were as hard as the statues’ and twice as cold.

“Simple; we take it from whoever did.”

XXX

Hidden in a small cove on an unpopulated section of Atifakuto’s coast, the sight of the Polar Tang’s sunny yellow hull was a welcome relief after a whole day of the city’s stark white walls. Law seemed to agree as his tense posture relaxed into a comfortable slouch, even giving a few of the guys a small grin when they called out to them. To Nami, of course, the submarine was still far from the Sunny and thus would never be home, but she couldn’t help but smile at Law’s reaction. The Dark Doctor really did have some softness deep down.

Of course, that didn’t last long, as the moment they were within the safety of the cargo bay he was once more all business. “Dinner is in an hour. Rest up, brush up on your notes, do whatever you need to prepare for the auction tonight; I’ve got a few more dominoes to put in place,” Law stated. He’d been silent for most of the walk back, though Nami attributed that to him mentally filing through all the information they now had and formulating his plan. Much as she missed and loved Luffy, having a captain who didn’t just go rushing in like an idiot was a nice change of pace.

That didn’t mean she appreciated his tone, though. “Say please,” she quipped, hip jutting out. She might have decided to be more compliant for the sake of gaining his trust, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him boss her around.

Besides, if she were too accommodating, he’d probably grow suspicious and then she’d be right back at square one.

He scowled but apparently decided it would be a waste of time to argue. They were on a tight schedule, after all, so her attitude would have to be tolerated. For now. “Please,” he grumbled before marching off, beckoning Clione to follow him. The biologist glanced between the two, bewildered, but smartly said nothing before chasing after his captain.

Flashing a self-satisfied grin at Law’s retreating back, Nami practically skipped to her quarters. Even though they weren’t as prepared as she’d like, so far, things were going well. Perhaps they couldn’t just use Law’s powers to swipe the vase, but by obtaining it through legal means, they wouldn’t have the authorities after them, which would be nice. Besides, it wasn’t her money that would be spent at the auction.

Her research of the North Blue had taught her a few things, including just how valuable things from Flevance were. After all, things made from the white ore had been in high-demand during the city’s heyday; now that it was in ruins, any remaining artifacts would surely triple in price. And, admittedly, if that fountain had been anything to go by, the vase could very well be extremely beautiful. Something any art collector or historian might want for themselves.

Once more, she wondered why the hell Law wanted it. He collected coins, not art, so she doubted it would be something he wanted just for the heck of it. What was his obsession with Flevance—

That train of thought was derailed when Nami walked into her room. She blinked then rubbed her eyes, certain her vision was still messed up from the sun, because Ikkaku was still sitting at her desk, working on some little device, practically in the same position as that morning. Really, the only difference was the lack of towel around her head, though her curly hair was a tangled bird’s nest.

“Have you even moved today?” Nami exclaimed loudly, flabbergasted.

The mechanic jumped a few inches out of her chair, a pen cartwheeling through the air before falling back onto the surface of the desk with a clatter. Apparently since she’d had the room to herself, she hadn’t felt the need to put the earplugs back in, leaving her vulnerable to Nami’s loud voice. “Damn, girl, you scared me,” Ikkaku said with a breathy laugh. She glanced around, noticing the time on the clock and the fact that her hair had dried completely. “Guess I was in the zone.”

“You haven’t been working all day, have you?” Nami asked, plopping her shopping bag on her bed. “At least tell me you had lunch.”

“Sounding an awful lot like Law there,” she teased, pushing away from her desk to stretch. There was an audible pop from her back, and her dark eyes closed in relief. “Like me, too. The boys and I are always bugging a certain workaholic captain to eat something and not subsist solely on coffee and aspirin. But to answer your question, yes, I did have lunch.” She pointed at an empty plate that had been shoved into the far corner of the desk, a few grains of rice stuck to the surface. “Bepo brought me some onigiri.”

“Good. If you didn’t, I’d be dragging you into the galley and force-feeding you a sandwich, then charging you a cooking and inconvenience fee.”

Snorting, Ikkaku cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders, further releasing the tension sitting hunched over in one spot for hours had built up. “Dinner’s soon enough; even if I hadn’t eaten, I could have waited. And good luck making a sandwich with no bread on board.” Despite her dismissal tone, though, she gave a wry grin. “But thanks for caring, I guess, even if it does come with a price tag.”

“What are friends for?” Nami shrugged with a smile that was a little forced. It was such an alien feeling, this sudden awkwardness. Since first arriving on the Tang, she and Ikkaku had gotten on like a house on fire. It was almost inevitable, being the two women on the ship surrounded by men dealing with that insanity together. Hell, even if that hadn’t been the case, Ikkaku had practically sacrificed herself for her back at the club on Grimm. A companion like that was more than she’d even dared to dream of before she’d met Luffy.

Was it really right for Nami to act like she didn’t know about her brother? Should she just tell her that the guys told her about Ushi? Really, what was the point of keeping it a secret? It wasn’t that Nami thought she’d slip up and spill the beans—lying was her specialty, after all—but Ikkaku wasn’t some mark or stranger. She was her friend.

Hell, even if they were on opposite crews, she’d even dare to call her nakama.

The issue resolved itself, however, when the other woman’s expression turned a little melancholy. Ikkaku sighed as she rested her cheek on her fist, her other hand idly playing with the pen. “Heh. Funny, I used to ask myself that question a lot when I was younger. I didn’t really have friends back on my home island. I lived with my Gramps in a lighthouse, so besides the occasional trip to town, it was a pretty isolated life.”

“What about your brothers?” Nami asked, masking her interest by taking her purchases out of the bag so they wouldn’t wrinkle before the auction. A swell of relief surged through her. If Ikkaku talked about Ushi herself, the whole charade of pretending not to know about him wouldn’t even be necessary! She just had to carefully press for the right crumbs of information, maybe even offer up a couple tidbits about her own life in exchange. No big deal. Tit for tat, right? “Nojiko was my best friend growing up. Hell, probably my only friend until Luffy came along.”

A dark look crossed Ikkaku’s face. “Yeah, well, Nojiko on her worst day was probably a way better sibling than all of them combined.”

“I don’t think you’ve talked about them much. I basically just know that they exist and said you wouldn’t really make it as an engineer because you’re a girl.”

A long sigh escaped her lips. “That’s…the nice version. Didn’t want to unload my shitty childhood on you, especially since yours sounded worse. I mean, my island was never taken over by pirates, and I didn’t work for the guy who murdered my mom.”

Well, that was certainly true, but then again, people with healthy, normal childhoods seldom became pirates. Or at least, those that did rarely lasted long on such cutthroat seas. Nami should have realized there was more to the mechanic’s past than some run-of-the-mill misogyny. “Maybe, but I don’t mind. We’ve all gone through some rough shit, right? We wouldn’t be in this line of work otherwise.”

“True. I just…I guess I just like to pretend he doesn’t exist most of the time.”

“He?” she asked as if she didn’t already know.

Ikkaku’s calloused hand dropped the pen to instead clench into a tight fist, and there was a haunted look in her dark eyes as she stared off into space. “Ushi. He’s the oldest. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t afraid of him. Spent our childhood making our other brothers use me as a punching bag. When he wasn’t doing that, he gave me almost hourly reminders that I was a burden on the family, that no one really loved me, that I’d never amount to anything.” There was a hitch in her breath and a pause, and Nami noticed her close her eyes tightly for a moment. As if she were fighting back tears. It was a look she’d never expected to see on the tough, vibrant woman’s face. “Then, when I was seven, he tried to kill me.”

“What?!” Nami exclaimed, dropping her blazer to the floor in shock.

“Yeah. Joras had a huge fucking forest, and he led me into it to look for mushrooms or some shit. Can’t remember. Next thing I know, he’s shoved me into a pit, and by the time I’d climbed out, he was long gone and it was night. I think…I think it was supposed to be my grave, ‘cause it was really fucking deep. Or at least it seemed that way. Maybe I’m misremembering.”

Somehow, Nami doubted that. Sure, memories could get warped with age and fear, but some details remained solid for the rest of a person’s life. “But, you got out, right? And I’m sure your parents must have been worried sick!” She could almost picture it. A young Ikkaku, sticks and leaves caught in her messy curls, knees and elbows scraped, face covered in dirt and tears, frightened but once more able to smile when she was finally found, her mother and father scooping her into their arms, scolding her for worrying them but just so relieved she was safe…

At least, that’s what Bellemere or Mister Genzo would have done if Nami had gone missing.

From the bitter laugh that escaped her throat, Ikkaku hadn’t been so fortunate. “I spent three days wandering around those fucking woods, scared and cold and wondering if I was gonna die out there. My parents didn’t even notice I was gone.” After a long moment of silence, her fist unclenched and some of the tension eased out of her shoulders. “Gramps found me, though. When I didn’t come home after two days and a storm rolled in, my brothers Nausagi and Fukuro ran two miles to the lighthouse to tell him what Ushi had done. Maybe they realized he’d gone too far. Or they were scared I’d come back as a vengeful zombie. Either way, Gramps rescued me and demanded custody. Mama and Pops were glad to hand me over. One less mouth to feed, and I wouldn’t be causing their Future Marine Hero any more trouble.”

“That’s…that’s horrible.” And yet Nami could tell she was getting the abridged version of the story. “Tell me your grandfather was a better guardian.”

Despite the childhood trauma she’d just confessed to, Ikkaku merely shrugged, a small grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Yeah. He was. Gramps was crazy, but he loved me and taught me how to fight. Told me to never lose my smile, ‘cause that’s my best protection against a world that’ll try to break me.”

“Bellemere said something similar to me and Nojiko. ‘Whatever happens, never lose your ability to laugh. If you can survive, happy times, lots of ‘em, will come your way’.”

“Smart lady.” She tried to casually run her fingers through her hair, only to find them caught in the tangled knots. She let out a light chuckle at her predicament and added, “I think she and Gramps would have gotten along pretty well. Well, assuming she liked salty former smugglers who had the gumption to threaten Law with a shot gun. Not that he didn’t deserve it a little.”

Nami had to smile at that, and she could only imagine what he’d said that had nearly gotten him shot. It was definitely something snarky, a shit-eating grin on his face while he provoked a protective grandfather just because he could.

Noticing Ikkaku’s hair situation, she abandoned her suit to instead pick up a wide-toothed comb. “Well, I’m not sure about Bellmere, but I’d certainly love to meet him.”

“Of course you would.” Leaning back in the chair, she allowed Nami to carefully put her thick curls to rights. “How was shopping? Boss show you the blinding sights of the city?”

“It was…enlightening,” she said cautiously. There was still so much to sort out, and every time she thought she had an answer to one of her questions, four more popped up in its place.

Grabbing the pen she’d been playing with earlier, Ikkaku handed it to her over her shoulder. “Here; I made you something, since I doubt you’ll be able to bring your Clima-Tact with you. Kinda why I was so focused—I wanted it to be ready by tonight.”

Curious, Nami inspected the item. It was a plain black ballpoint pen maybe a bit longer than her hand. There was an almost unnoticeable jolly roger engraved into the middle, and she ran her thumb over it idly. “You spent the whole afternoon making me a pen? I could have just as easily brought my stylus.”

“Oh, but a stylus is only good for writing. This is so much more useful. ‘The pen is mightier than the sword’, right? Click the top.”

She did so, and instead of an ink-filled nub, a small syringe, similar to an epi-pen, popped out. Her eyes widened in realization as Ikkaku explained, “Inside’s a powerful tranquilizer. Should knock any fool out in minutes if injected into the bloodstream. Takes longer if it’s ingested. It’s non-lethal to humans, so it should be safe to use on anyone you’re looking to knock out. Assuming they aren’t really Fishmen in disguise.”

“Why? Does it react differently for them?”

She grimaced. “Yeah. Severe allergic reaction. Anaphylactic shock typically. So, unless you want that on your conscience, humans only.”

Tucking the pen away for later, Nami nodded in understanding and went back to combing her hair. “Gotcha. Doubt it’ll be a problem, though. Jean Bart said this place is pretty humans-only.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s impossible for someone to have that kind of bloodline. If it’s diluted through a few generations, a lot of the time you can hide it and pass for human.”

“Hmmm, hadn’t thought of that.”

There was a moment where Nami could tell she was mulling something over. Even faced away from her, Ikkaku wasn’t hard to read, and it was only a matter of time before she voiced whatever question was on her mind.

While she waited, the ginger took the time to appreciate the texture of Ikkaku’s hair, combing out each curl individually so it wouldn’t frizz. The thick, black locks were coarser than her own, yet surprisingly soft despite her hard life at sea. Hair maintenance was extremely difficult living on the ocean, the salt and fluctuating weather of the Grand Line wreaking havoc on Nami’s much finer strands. And while Ikkaku was far more feminine than one would expect upon first meeting her, in the time they’d roomed together, she didn’t seem to put much more extensive care into her shiny locks than some leave-in conditioner.

Guess she’s just got some good genetics, Nami thought appreciatively. Either that or she’s hiding some amazing shampoo formula, and damn if she is I’ll never forgive her!

When Ikkaku at last broke her silence, the hesitation in her voice was palpable. “Hey, it was a Fishman who held you prisoner all those years, right? You ever…blame all Fishmen for what he did?”

It was an unexpected question, but a fair one, Nami supposed. Arlong had committed a crime so heinous she knew she’d never forgive him, and she knew there were plenty of people, especially ones who spent years abused by such a monster, who would project that hatred onto an entire race. But why even ask?

“I…not really. I mean, I can’t say I never lumped them all together in my head, since Arlong and his crew were my only baseline for Fishmen for a long time.” She bit her lip, thinking. “But that was when I was a kid. My view of things was a lot more black-and-white, mostly because I was bitter at my situation. As I got older, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was stupid to think all Fishmen were like him. He was the one who hurt me, so he’s the only one who should get my hate.”

“So, you don’t hate them all?”

She shook her head. “Nah. Hell, I was even able to forgive a member of his crew. I’m sure you heard about how Luffy punched a Celestial Dragon?”

Ikkaku craned her neck up to look at her, dark eyes widening in shocked understanding. “Yeah? You saying the Fishman he defended—”

“One of Arlong’s crew. Hatchi. Like all of them, he hurt me too, but it was on his captain’s orders, and he clearly regretted it.” Well, it had been a bit more complex than that. Hell, when they’d first encountered him again, she’d nearly gone back on her promise to Camie to rescue him. Even if he hadn’t abused her like the others, he’d still been complacent in it. Still destroyed villagers homes, held her hostage, attacked the Navy ships that tried to come to the rescue. He hadn’t been blameless in the least. She would have had every right to demand that he be left to be killed or enslaved. That it was karma come to bite him in the ass.

Yet what had swayed her, apart from Camie’s determination to save him, was her own friends’ reactions to seeing him again. Those who knew her past had immediately been ready to turn the ship around and leave Hatchi to his fate. Of course she’d expected Sanji to be her knight in shining armor and want nothing to do with someone who had abused a lady, even by proxy. Zoro and Usopp had been a bit more surprising, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been. They knew what she’d been put through. Had fought and bled for her. Despite their sometimes heated disagreements, Nami knew she could count on them to always have her back.

The one who shocked her the most was Luffy. He might have flip-flopped between reason and his stomach, but the fact was, her loving, forgiving captain had actually held a grudge on her behalf. Hatchi and Arlong hadn’t done anything to him personally, but his nakama had suffered, and that wasn’t something he’d easily set aside. That genuine show of solidarity and loyalty to her had melted what ice had still been around her heart, which allowed her to truly forgive the octopus Fishman.

Yes, Hatchi had hurt her, but her hatred was solely reserved for Arlong, not his underlings who genuinely felt remorse.

“I’m not a saint or anything but hating Hatchi…it seemed pointless. He wasn’t the one who killed my mother. And blaming all Fishmen for the actions of one seemed pretty shitty. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t kill Arlong if I had the chance, though.”

Nami could practically feel the tension drain from Ikkaku’s shoulders, and she couldn’t hide her smile before she looked away. “That’s good to know. That asshole deserves it, from what you’ve told me. He and my brother should meet, then get sacrificed to some kind of horrible sea monster. Plenty of hungry Sea Kings out there to feed.”

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer pair of guys,” Nami giggled as she ran the comb through the last strand of hair. “Though, that might be cruel to the Sea King. Poor thing deserves a better meal than shit like them.”

“True. We’ll just have to think of something else then. We can ask Law; he’s always got great suggestions.”

A shudder ran down her spine, though she had to admit, it wasn’t as horrified as she’d like. She justified it with the fact that Arlong was scum who deserved whatever painful death the likes of Law might propose. So did Ushi, from the sounds of things. Though, Law had said Ikkaku had begged him not to kill her brother. Why? Did she still care about Ushi due to their familial ties? Or was there something else?

Maybe she just doesn’t want her brother’s death on her conscience, Nami thought, putting the comb away and proceeding to raid the closet for shoes. I just hope that doesn’t come back to bite her someday.

XXX

Dinner on the Tang was certainly livelier and noisier than breakfast. Mainly because the crew didn’t have to walk on eggshells while waiting for Law to get his caffeine hit. Most of the time about a dozen different conversations could be heard, utensils clattered against plates, insults were tossed about, and laughter filled the air. But at the moment, the whole galley was silent save for Nami, who was telling the Heart Pirates—save for a few who’d been sent out on last-minute errands—all about her crew’s wild adventure on Skypiea.

“…so, after Luffy beat the crap out of him, Enel flew off to the moon in his gold airship, and we escaped the island with the help of an octopus balloon, our ship loaded with treasure!”

There was a pregnant pause as the Hearts stared at her in a mix of awe and disbelief. She’d had their undivided attention ever since Law announced that the Straw Hats had found Noland’s lost city of gold, all but demanding she tell the tale and not skimp on the details.

Naturally, those details made the story even more bizarre, practically unbelievable, but she gave them what they asked for, so they couldn’t complain. Even Law’s jaw had dropped once or twice in incredulity. Mostly at the part where Luffy’d been eaten by a giant snake and thus been hidden from Enel’s senses.

Finally, a few of the crew managed to find their voices.

“An orangutan nearly wrecked your ship with singing?” Shachi asked, face utterly baffled.

Penguin grabbed his hat and smacked him over the head with it. “That’s what you’re stuck on? That’s from way back in the beginning of the story!”

The ginger punched him in the shoulder in retaliation, which quickly devolved into a childish slap fight. “Well it’s weird, ok?”

“Weirder than Straw Hat punching Kami or the knock-up stream business or the ship that flew to the moon?”

“Yeah! You ever met an orangutan that could sing?!”

“No, but that’s not the point!”

“You met Monte Blac Cricket?” Ermine interrupted, eyes so wide the whites could be seen even under the rim of their hat, though their mouth quickly split into a smile. “Holy shit, I’d wondered what had happened to him!”

“Wasn’t he your friend or something?” Seiuchi asked through a mouth full of rice.

They shook their head, looking a little wistful, a faint blush rising to their cheeks. “Just a neighbor. The people of Lvneel were dicks to his family and anyone who associated with them didn’t get treated much better. But I always thought there had to be some truth to Noland’s story.”

“Because a city of gold is so fantastical it’s gotta be real?” Nami asked, amused. She’d half-expected everyone to laugh at her like the people on Jaya when she’d asked about Sky Island—she’d even glossed over that part, finding no reason to recap such a blow to her pride. Yet instead, they’d been respectful, even entranced by her tale. It seemed to help that she’d been able to fill in a few blanks with what she remembered from Noland’s ledger, thus adding credibility to the man himself instead of just imagining the lying fool the king’s slander had reduced him to.

Usopp would probably love these guys, she thought fondly. Not that they’d likely believe his fantastical lies, but they’d probably at least let him spin his yarns to his heart’s content.

“Because you don’t tell a king about a city of gold unless you’ve got something to show for it,” Uni interjected wisely, ladling some more curry onto her plate. He paused to smile at her with his eyes, the bottom half of his face still distinctly covered by his bandana despite it being dinnertime. This close, Nami couldn’t help but try to subtly look for signs of scarring, and in fact could spot a line of slightly-paler skin peeking out just over the edge. “That, and history’s rarely all that accurate. Full of lies and twisted to suit a certain narrative.”

“That’s the World Government way. I’m sure we’ll see plenty of it tonight,” Law stated, leaning back in his chair as he munched on some onigiri. The bulge in his cheek might have been comical, but the glint in his eye was humorless. “Can’t wait to hear the dumbass assumptions people make about us Northerners.”

Murmurs of agreement echoed throughout the room, though an angry tic formed on Nami’s forehead.

“Are you saying the stuff you had me study is going to be a load of crap?” she demanded, pointing her finger accusingly. Of course she knew history was skewed at best, but she’d spent days cramming! Had weird sexual dreams about him because of it!

Yes she was blaming the book for that and no one could stop her.

He shrugged and took another bite of rice, unbothered by her irritation. “It’s the information you’ll need to be able to regurgitate if anyone asks you about the North.”

“Yeah,” Penguin chimed in, nodding sagely. He and Shachi had finally been pulled apart by Jean Bart and had resumed eating like nothing had happened. “These people aren’t interested in the truth. They just want to feel superior to the ‘uneducated masses’.”

“Buncha pretentious pricks,” Shachi sniggered, balancing a spoon on his upper lip. “Bet they’d have a fucking fit if they found out El Dorodo’s not only real, but in the fucking sky!”

“I mean, can’t say I’d blame them,” Jude grumbled, playing a bit with his food like a grumpy child. “I figured we’d be the ones to find it, but this whole time we’ve been sailing around in a submarine for nothing!”

“You got something to say about my ship?” Ikkaku snapped, glaring at her crewmate. Behind her, Crozier, Cousteau, and Ermine made slashing motions across their throats, silently reminding him that disparaging the Polar Tang in any way in front of its chief engineer was a sure death sentence.

Before he could say anything, Uni thwapped him on the forehead with the spoon, apparently taking just as much offense. “How can you say it’s been for nothing—we’ve found tons of cool shit down here! May not have been El Dorado, but there have been some amazing sunken cities. And fish! We’ve discovered more aquatic animals than any other ocean explorer,” he pointed out excitedly, Cousteau nodding in agreement. “I mean, we’ve seen deep-sea fish not recorded in any book! Extracted hallucinogenic venom from puffer fish! Taken samples of bioluminescent plankton! We’ve seen octopi punch fish!”

“You ever figure out why they do that?” Shachi asked, cocking his head.

“Best I can figure? Spite.”

As weird as this little tangent was, Nami found herself giggling a bit at how excited Uni was. She didn’t know him too well, given how he was one of the quieter, more reserved members of the crew, but it was endearing to see him so animated and giddy as he discussed marine life.

“Plus, it’s cool to study navigational currents and everything, and underwater topography. The maps I can make from that kind of intel are really good,” Bepo added, twiddling his claws a bit beside her.

“Right! And if that’s still not enough to convince you, who needs a city of gold when you can get your hands on more sunken treasure than most pirates see in their lifetimes?” Uni asked, puffing out his chest.

She couldn’t help it—Nami’s eyes lit up with belli signs at the thought of how many sunken ships the submarine probably came across, all that gold theirs for the taking. Most treasure was basically lost once it hit the bottom of the ocean, but the Hearts’ ship and diving equipment turned the ocean floor into their personal piggy bank.

It seemed Jude had the same thought. “You’re right, you’re right,” he conceded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, it’s a great ship, and we’ve definitely found more than a city’s worth of loot—and yes the fish are cool Uni put the spoon away—but it’s still annoying to find out that we’ve been searching the wrong place this whole time.”

“Eh, happens to every pirate crew,” Jean Bart said, sipping his drink. “You find a treasure map only to discover the gold’s already dug up. Same with legends of lost cities. The fact that the Straw Hats actually found El Dorado and came away with a profit just means they’ve got the Devil’s luck on their side.”

“Or the favor of some god. Probably not that Enel guy, though,” Shachi said with a smirk. “And hopefully nothing from Joras, either.”

There was a murmur of agreement among the crew at that, though Ikkaku looked more uncomfortable than amused. Nami wasn’t the only one to catch that, though, as Uni reproachfully smacked the side of his head with the spoon.

“Dude. Don’t joke about the eldritch horror gods, yeah?”

“Sorry,” the ginger said, blushing slightly as he wiped away the curry splattered across his face.

“Eldritch horror gods?” Nami asked, recoiling at the thought. What the fuck?! Joras sounded vaguely familiar and given the context she guessed it had to be someplace in the North Blue, but she sure as hell didn’t recall reading anything about that! Was this something related to Northern culture, or were the guys just fucking with her?

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, Nami-ya,” Law stated with a smirk, though she didn’t miss the glare he sent Shachi’s way. “We’ve been sailing under the ocean for over five years and I’ve yet to see a sleeping god who can turn you mad with terror.”

“No, just an underwater ruin or two that talks about him,” Ikkaku muttered, picking at her food.

Underwater ruins with tales of sleeping gods? Sounds like something Robin would be interested in, Nami thought, nervous sweat running down her neck. Not that she’d be able to blame her. Sure, the archeologist was macabre as hell, but Nami could appreciate her thirst for knowledge, creepy or not. Who knew what history and cultures had been lost to the seas? Maybe there were even Poneglyphs down at the bottom of the ocean!

Damn. Robin and Law would probably get along great. She wasn’t sure if she was frightened or comforted by this thought.

Uni seemed to notice her unease and patted her shoulder. “We’ve seen some strange stuff down there, but nothing more dangerous than Sea Kings. Which, I mean, aren’t exactly friendly guppies, but they’ll leave us be. The Tang’s Seastone coating and electrical defenses ensure that.”

Though she still found the whole concept horrifying, she was appreciated how hard Uni was trying to keep the peace and not make things needlessly frightening for her. The whole crew had a morbid sense of humor, but while she’d mostly adapted, she still found this whole conversation creepy. It made her feel a little guilty for wanting to pry into his business. Yeah, it was annoying to know the crew was hiding stuff from her, but Uni deserved a little privacy, right?

“Yeah, and if there were anything more, Uni’s fish buddies would warn us ahead of time!” Malamute added.

“Fish buddies?” Nami asked, eyebrows lifting to her hairline in surprise. So much for respecting his privacy. “Wait, can you talk to fish?”

The man in question stiffened beside her. “I, uh, I can understand fish a little,” he said, looking nervous. His large hands twisted the napkin in his lap, and he refused to look at her. “It’s a Haki thing.”

“Haki can do that?” she asked, surprised.

“Observation Haki can do a lot of things, and Uni’s the best at it on the ship,” Law cut in harshly, glare brokering no argument. “It’s a skill that’s saved our asses plenty of times.”

Nami blanched at his defensive tone. “Hey, I’ll take your word for it, but you don’t have to act like I insulted his mother or something.”

“It’s ok, Law,” Uni said, shrugging a bit, though his face seemed to sink a little further into his bandana. “I know she didn’t mean anything by it. It’s a fair question, and it is a weird talent.”

“It’s not weird. It’s fucking useful as hell and I won’t hear anyone belittling my crew.”

“I’d never belittle him—” Nami snapped, starting to stand up to give Law a piece of her mind before Bepo’s heavy paws fell on her shoulders, gently but firmly keeping her seated.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “Law doesn’t mean you. It’s just…the last person outside the crew that found out, he was extremely cruel about it. Beat Uni to a pulp and even threatened to sell him as a freak show attraction before Captain found them.”

“Oh my god,” she replied, anger cooling quickly as she covered her mouth in horror, imagining Uni bruised and bloody on the ground at the hands of some bastard. Well, that would sure as hell explain why Law had taken such offense. If such a thing had happened to Chopper because he could speak to animals, she’d likely be just as pissed. From the scowls on the rest of the Hearts’ faces, the whole crew felt similar. Her gaze flicked to the fuming captain. “I’m guessing he ended up on your operating table?”

“I wish,” he growled, gold eyes glinting in fury as he crossed his arms. “Marines showed up before I could cut out his heart. Must have been his lucky day, but luck won’t be enough to save him if I ever run into Hyena-ya again.”

“Hyena?” she asked, the name not ringing any bells.

“Bellamy the Hyena,” Bepo explained, snout wrinkling in distaste. “He’s also from the North.”

Oh. My. God, Nami thought, wondering if the world was really so small. “You said Bellamy, right? Blonde hair? Spring powers? Asshole with a stupid grin?”

Law cocked an eyebrow in mild surprise. “Seems you’ve encountered him before.”

She ground her teeth as she remembered the way he’d mocked Luffy’s dreams in the bar. “Yeah. On Jaya. His crew laughed at me for asking about Sky Island and his first mate tried to buy me. Later he stole Cricket’s gold, so Luffy went after him. I didn’t see the fight but given what an ass that guy was…yeah, Luffy wiped that stupid smile off his face.”

Once more the room fell silent, but quickly broke out into thunderous applause.

“Hah! I would have paid good money to see that!” Ikkaku laughed, spirits lifted.

“If he hurt Cricket, I’m glad he got the beating he deserved,” Ermine said with a grin.

Uni smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling happily. “When you see Straw Hat again, shake his hand for me! That guy’s a dick.”

Even Law was put in a better mood, though there was still a malicious edge to his smirk. “Good on Mugiwara-ya. Still wouldn’t mind doing some permanent damage to the fucker myself, though. Bad enough he insulted my crew, but that bastard should pick his idols more carefully.”

Nami’s brow furrowed at that. His idols? The hell did that mean?

She didn’t have time to vocalizing that question, though. Sweat ran down her neck when said smirk then took a more lecherous edge as he rested his chin on his fist, eyes glinting with mischief. “But Sarquiss-ya tried to buy you? I might have prioritize kicking his ass, then. I’m the only one who gets to be your sugar daddy.”

“Oh shut up! You didn’t even buy me new shoes!”

“You got her a suit but no shoes? For shame, Boss,” Ikkaku giggled, getting up to help Seiuchi and Jude clear the tables. “I thought you were supposed to be a ladies’ man.”

“I’m a cruel bastard who doesn’t do something for nothing. She can borrow yours.”

Sauntering over, she playfully poked him in the forehead. “Says who?”

Law snorted and childishly poked her right back. “Me. Your captain. The guy who pays your salary.”

“You pay me to keep the submarine running and sass you when you’re being an idiot.”

“I don’t pay you for that.”

“Mmmm, you’re right; that’s a service I provide for free.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say those two were siblings,” Nami chuckled under her breath.

“Right? When I was first recruited I was convinced they were secretly related,” Uni agreed.

Bepo gave them both a smile and said quietly, “I think it’s good for them. Especially Law. I think he secretly likes having a little sister again.”

Brown eyes widened at that little tidbit. Law had a sister? What happened to her? Bepo had stated the past tense, so there was either some kind of falling out or…

…oh no, she thought, turning to watch Law continue to bicker good-naturedly with Ikkaku, his expression annoyed but the glimmer in his eyes belying that he was enjoying himself. Another piece of the puzzle that was the Surgeon of Death had fallen into her lap, but it wasn’t a particularly happy one. Sure, people died or were killed all the time, but Nami couldn’t imagine what she’d be like if she’d lost Nojiko. And depending on how young they’d been or how she’d died, that could really fuck with a guy.

“Nami-ya.”

Her attention was yanked from her musing as Law called her name. He was on his feet, plate clean and smirk dangerous as he regarded her. Nami wondered whether this would be the last time she’d see him in a genuinely good mood for the rest of the evening. “It’s seven o’clock. Time to get ready to watch history be defiled by pretentious morons. And for your obnoxious thunder god’s sake, make sure you’re wearing shoes you can actually run in.”

( @ninhaoma-ya, @awesomi, @vannahfanfics)

[tygerbug]

If any movie can actually get people back into theaters during the pandemic, it's Spider-Man: No Way Home. Tom Holland's sixth outing as Spider-Man is as big and bold as any Marvel team-up film. It's hard to say it's the best live-action Spider-Man film movie, but it's certainly the most Spider-Man movie. It's a tribute to almost twenty years of live-action Spider-Man movies so far.

The tragedy of Tom Holland and Andrew Garfield's runs as Spider-Man has always been that they stood in the shadow of Sam Raimi's films with Tobey Maguire, from 2002-2007. While it was apparent by the end that Raimi was having irreconcilable creative differences with Sony management, Raimi's films have stood the test of time, and every Spidey outing since has had to fix what wasn't broken. They either bore audiences by showing them something they've already seen, or try to do something different and miss out on a lot of the character's backstory that fans care about.

It's little surprise, then, that Andrew Garfield's Spider-Man made little impact in his two films, which were micromanaged to be what Sony executives wanted, rather than what audiences wanted. There were complaints that we were already seeing Uncle Ben die again.

Meanwhile Tom Holland's Spider-Man never had a chance to do what Tobey Maguire's did. He was introduced halfway through a third Captain America movie as a protege for Iron Man. We didn't see Uncle Ben die. Instead this Peter Parker became an Avenger, while attending a science and technology high school for gifted students.

In some ways, this Peter Parker has led a privileged life, with access to Tony Stark's technology and gadgets. It's a tribute to the good work done by director Jon Watts and actor Tom Holland that this still feels like Spider-Man, even with the radically different backstory that comes with befriending Tony Stark.

Watts also took pains to set up the world of this friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, including an entire rogue's gallery of very small-time, street-level crooks. That included Michael Keaton's Vulture, and takes on The Shocker, The Prowler and The Scorpion, none of whom return here. (Before the film I did see a trailer for Jared Leto as Morbius, where Michael Keaton's Vulture does cameo.)

No Way Home has much bigger plans in mind here. The point of establishing this Spider-Man's world was to tether him to his everyday life in New York, which makes him feel more like Spider-Man.

Instead, this movie explodes its world outward, bringing back characters from almost twenty years of Spider-Man films, and exploring in the process what exactly it means to be Spider-Man. The movie leaves us with the hope that the next Holland Spider-Man film might be smaller rather than bigger, but who knows. We do at least feel assured that Holland has truly become the Spider-Man of the comics, even if these movies took a roundabout way of getting there.

It's nice to see all these characters one more time. Even Rhys Ifan's Lizard and Thomas Haden Church's Sandman turn up, although almost entirely in CGI form, which means they don't really feel like part of the ensemble (and are buried pretty deep in the credits list).

Alfred Molina is predictably good as Otto Octavius AKA Dr. Octopus, but Willem Dafoe's Norman Osborn, aka the Green Goblin, steals the show. He reminds you why he was the original Spider-Man movie villain, and the greatest of the bunch.

Jamie Foxx, as Max Dillon / Electro, seems to have taken this reprised role as a do-over. The weird, nerdy character he played in 2014 has a new attitude, and looks and acts a lot more like, well, Jamie Foxx. He's cooler, suave and funny, but unpleasant as well - every line feels somehow like a threat. It's not quite a masterclass but Foxx succeeds as establishing himself as one of Spider-Man's most memorable villains.

One line about a black Spider-Man addresses the elephant in the room - Miles Morales, a character whose animated film "Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse" already did the whole multiverse thing to great acclaim. Stan Lee realized over time that part of Spider-Man's appeal was that anyone could wear that mask. A popular Japanese Spider-Man TV series helped establish the super sentai genre, and was a big influence on what became the Power Rangers series.

"No Way Home" does what "Into the Spider-Verse" couldn't- It brings back characters from the previous films, as if tying up loose ends. It's an audacious and overly complicated idea which really shouldn't work, but in practice it leaves the film in very assured hands. If we didn't already know these characters some of these scenes would probably fall flat, but we do know these characters, and these are a bunch of very good actors taking a well-earned victory lap.

J.K Simmons returns as J. Jonah Jameson. He's a constant threat in the background here but also underused, and not as memorable or funny as he was in the Raimi films, since he never interacts properly with Parker. Maybe next time.

Raimi's Spider-Man 3 was widely criticized for having too many villains (Sony had requested that Venom be involved), and for trying to do too much, as if multiple movies were going on at once. This Spider-Man 3 goes several times farther, but I think we're at the point where audiences want more.

At this point, the Avengers movies are breaking new ground in how many of these movies and TV series you're expected to have seen. This movie is a victory lap for Sony's live-action Spider-Man movies, which are also tied into the Avengers series. Dr. Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) is a major part of the story this time, and let's not forget that Sony has also been doing movies with Spider-Man villains Venom, Carnage and the upcoming Morbius.

There's a trailer, played after the film, for Sam Raimi's Doctor Strange In the Multiverse of Madness, which fully expects you to have watched the Marvel TV series WandaVision and What If ...?

In the latter animated series, Tom Holland didn't actually return as Spider-Man, so I'm not sure if he's even watched it. But what you'll see here ties back to that series.

That's a lot to ask from viewers, but the continuity is part of the fun at this point, and always has been with the Avengers series of films and shows. The more characters and continuity they add, the larger the world feels, for better or worse, and the bigger these movies get.

Spider-Man: No Way Home is a big one. It delivers a lot for Spider-Man fans, and doesn't disappoint. If anything can get people back into theaters during a pandemic, it'll be that.

As I left the theater, one mother was saying she liked the film while her son was wailing that he hated it, because of what happened to Peter Parker and his friends.

Get used to it, kid. If there's one thing we know, it's that life is never easy for Spider-Man. But he tries to do the right thing anyway.

[bloomyn]

you can be the cherry on top

Helloo! If its okay can I request prompts 16 and 27 from the random prompts with Ushijima where the reader introduces some spontaneity into his life, teaches him to take risks and go off a routined lifestyle like going for a drive at 2am to a convenience and like cheating a game at an arcade or something ? And he actually kinda enjoys the thrill of going out of his comfort zone and wants to get to know her more ! Thankyouu srry if it doesnt make sense😊

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader

tags: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, breaking records ; fixing hearts, learning to live a little

warnings: none

tendou screeched.

“wakatoshi! you’re never going to beat the high score.”

olive - colored eyes narrowed, focusing on the screen in front of him. it was stupid game, nothing more than something he would’ve played as a child but it was the score board that ticked him off. 

1. ‘ur mom’

2. ushijima

3. ushijima

4. ushijima

5. miracle boy sa to ri!!!!

“wakatoshi let’s head back to the dorms. it’ll be fine, you can’t beat the high score so what.” 

the taller man scowled.

-

you’ve grown to hate the oak brown of the desk in front of you. the imitation wood has glared at you every second of everyday for the past three years and you might throw up if you have to look at them for another second. when you drop your forehead against the desk no one pays mind, you’re sure their all bored out of their minds too. it doesn’t help that the sickly gray walls of the classroom love to tease the tangerine sunlight that’s blocked by the thick window curtains. 

being a teenager is horrible. 

being a teenager stuck in a classroom with possibly the most boring people in the world is catastrophic. 

you could care less about modern japanese literature, you’re more worried about the sweat that’s pooling under your arms and the back of your thighs and..have they fixed the ac in your dorms yet?

outside of the window you could see a student jogging, it wasn’t surprising, he was always there. purple tracksuit, you had called him, always the same outfit at the same time, every single day.

how boring

-

“[l/n] please do not take my advice lightly, entrance exams are coming up and it is very important that-”

you nodded your head, “yes sensei i know, trust me, i’ll figure it out!”

your homeroom teacher sighed. “just, please. shiratorizawa wants to make sure that all our students succeed.”

plastering on a fake smile you started stepping backward slowly, “yep, mhm, i understand.”

“just go.”

“thank you bye bye!”

you rushed out of the hallway, passing through the classrooms and out of the gates of shiratorizawa academy. thankfully, the streets were pretty much empty save for the occasional student or cat making their way down the street. 

the arcade was visible for miles. blinding lights that lit up the block and the smell of sweaty seats that lingered for ages. 

yum.

 you waved a hello to the attendant and made your way to the back, searching for your high score (you couldn’t help it, seeing ‘ur mom’ on top the scoreboard was almost intoxicating), only to find a boy (man? maybe.) pounding harshly at the keys. you almost wanted laugh, watching this mountain of a man get so frustrated at what was no more than a child’s game. 

“you good there buddy?” you teased, making your way next to the boy. he only grunted in response, his fingers wrapping tighter around the consoles and eyes narrowing themselves, focusing solely on the screen in front of him. 

leaning against the side of the game you sighed, pretending to flick dirt out from your fingertips. 

“you know,” you drawled lazily, “ i have the high score.”

the boy froze, you could practically see his back stiffening at the sound of your words. a cold chill ran down your spine at the mere sight of his face (or more specifically the look on his face).

on the screen the “game over” flashed loudly, displaying the score board, and by the consecutive list of ‘ushijima’ underneath ‘ur mom’...

“oh, are you ushijima?”

he nodded stiffly. “you have the high score. how?”

you grinned cheekily, ignoring his obvious disbelief and disgruntlement, “wanna watch me play? i’ll blow your score out of the water. i promise.”

ushijima smirked, “show me.”

you started the game up, playing just as usual, you know; following the rules. behind you ushijima crossed his arms. you weren’t doing anything special, in fact he was pretty sure you were moving slower than him how could---

and with a quick flick of your fingers in an unknowable combination, the screen was cleared of the ‘bad guys’, and “NEW HIGH SCORE!’ bounced around on the screen. you licked your lips, whipping around to see his reaction and oh, it was so much better than you’d expected. 

“good game right?”

slowly, the taller man closed his eyes, “how?”

should you tell him the truth? you wondered. it’d be so much more fun if you lied instead; leaving him frustrated and flustered over your effortless ability to wreck his scores. 

“cheat code.” you breathed lazily, “it works for a lot of games actually, it’s really common.”

“you...cheated?”

you almost rolled your eyes, “it’s just a game ushijima, don’t tell me you haven’t cheated at a game before?”

his silence spoke for him.

had this man had any fun ever? at all? even a little?

“come on ushi-kun, live a little why don’t you.”

your persistence was refreshing. maybe it was because he had only just met you and you had no idea who or what he was like that you would push him like this. he knew was blunt, there was no point in lying or drawing the truth out. but you seemed to be immune to that. 

so he held out his hand, asking for the coin.

“i can try to be more exciting.”

besides him you blew air out of your lips, “ i don’t want you to try and be more exciting, just like,” you paused, looking him up and down. “what do you do for fun?”

“volleyball.”

“and when you’re not playing volleyball...”

“i’m at school.”

you really had to think of different response besides groaning. begrudgingly you held out your hand.

“come on.” you huffed.

tentatively ushijima placed his hands in yours. “will i regret this?”

“i’d be insulted if you didn’t”

-

so you were breaking into your own school. well, it wasn’t exactly breaking, just sneaking into the closed volleyball gym. 

“it’s locked.”

rolling your eyes you shoved your hands around in your pockets, hoping that somehow you’d have a bobby pin, and voila! you smirked, whispering a ‘got it!’ before jamming it into the lock. 

“this would be a lot easier with a key.”

suppressing the fattest eye roll you could possibly think of you turned around, 

“obviously it-- oh.”

behind you ushijima held up a single bronze key, matching the same company as the one on the lock. oh.

“you play for the volleyball team?”

he nodded.

“wait you go to this school?”

-

this was not fun anymore. holy shit this was not fun.

a screech left your throat as you dodged another one of ushijimas serves. you thought volleyball was all fun and games, this was a nightmare. 

“i thought you wanted to play?” he quirked, tossing the ball up one more time.

“yeah, play. not die!”

you dove to the floor barely dodging the ball. on the other side of the net ushijima was smiling, laughing almost. 

at least one of you was having fun. 

-

“god ushijima do you enjoy torturing yourself?”

ushijima tossed a towel to you, while continuing to sip from his water bottle. 

“hm?”

grimacing, you wiped the sweat from your forehead onto the towel. 

‘geez, this guy hasn’t even broken a sweat’ 

“why volleyball?” you breathed softly.

“my father taught me how, he used to play for shiratorizawa.”

you nodded along, “that’s cool.”

an icky silence spread over the two of you as cooled of from your unintentional work out. you smiled to yourself, it was fun though, even if your bones seemed to be in danger. 

“something wrong?”

you blinked a couple times before looking up. had you accidentally made a face? (your mother had made it point to call you out whenever that ‘pinched look’ arrived) 

“no? what do you mean?”

this time you were frowning, but of course ushijima didn’t notice (or simply just didn’t care).

he set his water bottle down, “you look disappointed.”

scoffing you tossed the towel back to him. “i’m not.”

“i don’t believe you.”

this man. 

so you shrug. “ i don’t know, just feels like the day has so much potential and instead i’m going to end up laying by myself in a dorm where the ac doesn’t work.”

“it’s only 7:22.”

you sighed, “yeah but it’s too late to do anything and too early to go back to the dorms.”

in his mind ushijima had two options:

1. leave and maybe never talk to you again

2. stay and, not have any regrets about what you were going to do or if you were going to do anything because he wanted to be there, not to be with you, but to have fun, yeah to have fun, he needed to have more fun. 

“come with me.”

-

ideally ushijima would’ve whisked away in his new car and driven you into the sunset while listening to your ‘don’t cry just vibe’ playlist. 

unfortunately the two of you were broke third years who had no form of personal transportation and had to worry about missing volleyball practice the next morning. 

so you were on the train. 

“ushijima where are we even going.”

he hadn’t given you an answer for at least 15 minutes prior to asking so you jabbed a finger into his chest.

“answer me.”

peering down at your figure he nodded his head. “i can’t tell you.”

already you were starting to receive some stares from the others from the train so you dropped the subject. i mean you had been the one to tell him to live a little. god he didn’t even know your name! he wasn’t gonna kidnap you, no, but he could! especially with those serves--

“we’re here.”

-

“i only come here during school breaks but, i figured now might be an appropriate visit.”

the moon hung heavy over the dips and curves of the hills. the small lights flickered in and out, lanterns most likely, setting the scene. wonderful. 

“well.” you huffed, “aren’t we just full of surprises today.”

smiling at your words, ushijima motions upward.

“step there. you’ll have a better view.”

ah, so he was going to push you off the cliff and they would never find your body. that’s how this was going to go down. 

“just so you know ushi - kun, if any murderers coming running at us--” you take his hands, wiping a fake tear off your face, “i would die for you, i would sacrifice, my life so you could escape.”

“you just met me.” he deadpans.

stepping up on the rocks you extend your arms out. wind swept underneath them, the sounds of the hills working in tandem, your mind was gone, too absorbed in the view.  “i know.”

-

“does it still feel like a waste?” 

this time you shook your head, “here with you? absolutely not.”

-

two weeks later:

“you stole a car.”

those are the first words he speaks when he finally sees you again. after your little moment at the hills you’d disappeared for two weeks. he was starting question your existence. but here you, waiting for him at the front of the school swinging car keys between your fingers.”

“technically,” you start, “it’s my aunt’s and i’m just borrowing it.” 

you can’t describe the look he’s giving you. you can but, it wouldn’t accurately describe whatever he was feeling. “so are you getting in or what.”

“i have volleyball practice.”

you hold up the little bronze you’ve stored in your pocket. “not anymore you don’t”

-- he forgets to ask if you even have your license yet. (it’s fine, it’s you we’re talking about)

.

.

.

you don’t immediately start dating after that. it takes three more spontaneous tokyo roadtrips and six almost ushi - abductions for him to ask you out. and when he does, you beat him to the punch. 

“well.” you say, poking his chest a bit. “who else am i gonna drag to the arcade at 3 in the morning?”

(he says yes.)

[its-sixxers]

Swan Song

Ulfric Stormcloak is dead. The civil war is halted - for now. Alduin awaits. Idunn and Tandreth are all too aware of the fate of heroes.

(borderline wip but a snippet in apology for my absence <3)

Despite centuries living, Tandreth had at last discovered something he’d never witnessed before.

What it felt like to be a hero.

Amidst the ruin Whiterun rose from the ashes like a phoenix to celebrate - the dead were buried, injuries nursed, grudges put to bed. Tandreth still felt the sting of where the Ulfric’s blade had bit into his ribs, but the mead of Jarl Balgruuf had quelled his pain. Throughout the night toasts had been made even when the scent of burned flesh still lingered even in Dragonsreach - the Companions often the source of uproarious laughter, the local bard testing out a few new verses in his attempt to give the event justice.

Tandreth had been fawned over, and if it were only a few years ago he’d have been happy to take to bed a train of admirers. As he sat at the feast table, however, he was only all too aware that his fame was based solely on his proximity to others - and for the first time, he was content in that knowledge.

Azuraansi sat near the Jarl himself, nursing her single goblet of wine and leaning in conspiratorially between Balgruuf and Irileth, discussing matters he couldn’t imagine. Whatever they were, it brought a smile to her usually icy features - though colored with a hearty dose of exhaustion.  Tandreth smiled in turn to see his twin sister flattered and content, to be recognized for her ability and to, for once, not have her victory turn to ashes in her hands.

Most of his attention was diverted to the guest of honor, however.

Idunn - Dragonborn, who’d come to Whiterun’s aid on a dragon with he and his sister in tow, who’d engaged Ulfric Stormcloak in single combat, whose Shouts had caused lighting to crack across the sky and who sang with every sweep of her warhammer. She’d been like Ysgramor himself, like Talos, like any other figure of legend - auburn hair blazing, so young, and yet she could not mirror the smiles and cheers offered her. Instead she let Raansi engage with the Jarl and the excited elite of Whiterun, preferring to stare into her goblet of mead. 

Ulfric Stormcloak was dead. It was cause for celebration for many - it should have been cause for celebration for her.

Yet despite the man’s many sins, Idunn was no executioner.

By the time Tandreth finally managed to gain an opportunity to politely excuse himself from the feast table, she was absent. Unmissed - Talos was charismatic, Ysgramor larger than life. Idunn always seemed to try her best to fade into the background, to bore any who tried to engage with her. 

Slipping into the shadows was second nature, and all the easier with most of the Great Hall too inebriated to perceive anything but their own joy. Tandreth slipped away from the celebratory feast and into Dragonsreach’s state quarters, all revelry muffled by the thick oak doors closing behind him.

Moonlight trickled in through the windows of the back hall high above. The place was unguarded - whether those assigned to their posts were dead or excused was beyond Tandreth’s knowledge, but the thought of the keep’s inhabitants unguarded as they slept unsettled him. Quickly he made haste to the quarters that had been granted to Idunn - those that used to belong to the Jarl’s wife, at the pinnacle of Dragonsreach’s many steps. His own were at a lower level, and were it not for Irileth’s own status he’d wonder if it was a slight.

The carved door to Idunn’s chambers was unlocked, not that it’d be a concern for him if it wasn’t - and quietly he cracked it open to peer inside.

Idunn wasn’t in her bed. He knew it the moment the sound of snoring didn’t meet his ears, and quietly he slipped inside. The curtains shifted from an incoming draft, and he knew where to go.

Beyond the solar was the bedroom, whose north wall possessed a great stone arch framed by woven linen curtains that led to a stone balcony beyond. Multicolored lights spilled through the windows onto the four poster bed.

A familiar figure stood on the balcony, backlit by the aurora.

Whiterun’s tundra stretched for miles below, the night sky above splashed with the watercolor of numerous shifting lights. Idunn leaned against the banister wearing nothing but a man’s undershirt, hem laying across the middle of her powerful thighs. Tandreth could see numerous bruises blooming upon her pale skin, as varied in color as the night sky above.

“It’s your night, you know. You should enjoy it.” Tandreth said gently, announcing his presence. Idunn only turned her head a fraction to acknowledge him, her cheeks shining with what he knew were shed tears. Slowly he approached, coming to her side by the banister. 

“There’s nothing to celebrate.” she answered, voice thin. Yes, she’d been crying. “The Plains District is ashes. Good people are dead.”

“Yes.” Tandreth agreed, watching her white-knuckle grip on the banister. “But more would have perished if it wasn’t for you. The day’s won. Now’s for drinking, to forget the bloodshed, to relish being alive.”

Idunn dropped her gaze to him, looking more afraid than he’d ever seen her. It made something in his chest clench to see it - the whites of her eyes in the dark. “For how long?”

He offered his best smile in an effort to reassure her. “For eternity, if we’re lucky. Maybe Nine will become Ten. Say hello to Dibella for me if that’s the case, she’s always sounded like a fun time.”

The effort fell flat, for Idunn made a choked noise in her throat and looked back to the tundra below - to the embers that yet burned, further evidence of battle hidden by the dark. “There’s only one thing left, now.”

Alduin. A fear marked by the panic in her face whenever a shadow crossed the sky. A god. How could anyone kill a god?

Unbidden Tandreth’s hand settled upon her own, his dark skin a stark contrast to hers. The action stilled her ragged breathing, granting him some relief. “You’ve succeeded in everything. You can do this. I’m with you, for what little it helps. I believe in you.” The expected words. The words he was supposed to say.

Again she shook her head. “That’s not what I’m worried about.” she whispered. “It’s what happens after.”

“After?” Tandreth looked up at her quizzically, his traitorous hand gently stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “Whatever you want. No one can stop you. I’m certain the Empire will give you enough coin to buy anything you please for Ulfric’s head-”

“No.” Idunn said emphatically, suddenly pulling her hand away from his. Tandreth’s palm burned from the absence. “All of the stories. All the heroes die. Ulfric was a hero, to the Stormcloaks. They never… They never…”

“Happily ever afters are boring.” Tandreth replied, anxiety building in his chest from this line of conversation. Ulfric’s death had rattled her, and he knew it was for more reasons than the man’s status as hero. This battle was beyond him, something scum like him had no hope of fighting. “And those are just stories, Idunn, they aren’t-”

“You said so yourself.” she interrupted. “Heroes don’t get happy endings. It’s a lie.”

It caused his cheeks to flush, bile to rise in his throat. Yes, he’d told her as much - told her in as few words as he could manage what happened to his mother, the Nerevarine. How he and his sister had as good as grown up on their own, never to have closure until he saw his mother’s ghost. How the last Dragonborn emperor had martyred himself, how the hero who’d brought him to the Imperial City scorned all glory and disappeared from history soon after. How all of Idunn’s efforts to do right were fruitless, how none would appreciate her and her name would disappear after she died trying to protect people who didn’t care for her - and now Tandreth saw the effects of his poisonous words. Self hatred flooded his system. Vile, venomous coward, who’d tried to drag her down with him.

“Idunn.” he whispered, and she winced at the sound of her own name from his lips. “I was saying whatever I could to dissuade you, then. It was cruel.”

“Was it false?” she questioned, words piercing something else in his chest. She looked him in the eye, her own, wide and green and so guileless, beseeching him for the truth.

Tandreth’s shoulders fell, staring up at her - at the aurora reflected in her eyes, unable to bring light to them. Honesty burned his tongue, but he offered it nonetheless. “No.”

Idunn took a deep breath and turned away from him. “I always knew it.” she murmured. “At the heart of it, all along. I’m going to succeed. Destiny, fate, the Divines - they’ll carry me that far. But after…” He watched her throat ripple as she swallowed. “... I’m not coming back from this.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I feel it.” Idunn shook her head. “In my bones. My heart. The air. It makes sense. This was my purpose, all along. I have no -” A pause and another wince, as she dared a glance back at him. Correcting herself, to a flutter in his lungs. “ - few friends. No family. I was destined to die before fate called on me. It was just a stay of execution. This is my purpose, what I’ve been chosen for, what I’ve been born for. There’s nothing after.”

A cold feeling pooled in his gut, and Tandreth felt the overwhelming urge to run at her words. To save himself. Idunn was convinced, and it was enough to convince him in turn. In his travels with her he’d seen things he’d never believe, proof of divinity, every odd defied. It was only a matter of time before her luck ran out. He’d seen it all happen before.

Yet beneath the cold an ember burned, fanned into a flame. No. He’d seen it before, but he wouldn’t let it happen again. He’d tried to persuade her out of destiny, thrashed and raged against it. He’d tried to run from it already. The conclusion he’d come to was one constant as the rising sun.

Whatever would come, he couldn’t leave her. Even if he had to watch her die.

No.

Could he change fate? Change a certain path?

Of course not. He was a child, tantruming against the inevitable. Instinctively wanting to smash what he could before running away, furious at his own powerlessness.

Yet if there was one thing he could change - one thing in his blighted life he could do again, it was to say something. He’d left his mother with bitter words.

Idunn stared out at the tundra in silence. Could he leave her with the same?

Tandreth’s tongue suddenly felt thick, a wave of heat flowing over his body as if a fever. Nausea twisted his stomach. Suddenly all words failed him - he’d never had trouble with them before, always had a quick remark, but now this was important, now this was perhaps the last calm they’d ever have.

“Maybe.” he admitted, forcing himself to face the truth of it all. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe these are the last weeks.” His body was betraying him, vision clouding with blasted tears, his voice wavering. He could still run - Azura, how he longed to - but Tandreth clutched the stone banister as if it could keep him from being ripped away from it. He’d lived centuries, but a couple dozen months had given him a light he’d long thought lost and the idea that it was going to be snuffed out again was too much to comprehend.

Idunn managed to look at him again, pain diffused with confusion on her part. She wasn’t used to seeing him like this, he was well aware - knew that the little wrinkle between her brow was one of concern. Knew everything, and tried not to think of how every scrap of knowledge of her might come to haunt him. “You don’t have to stay.” Her voice was tender as a kiss. “It’ll be safer.”

It was his turn to make a choked noise, and he tore his hands from the banister to settle on her biceps, so firm beneath his touch he nearly took comfort in it. Tandreth forced her to face him, to look him in the face. “No. Listen to me, Idunn. I’ve spent my life running. From everything. From living. Were this a few years ago I’d be happy to throw myself into the void alongside you - but I’ve met you now. In you I’ve seen that maybe this cursed plane is worth something after all, that I could be worth something. I want to live. I want to see what the future holds.” In spite of himself, he let his hands drift down her bicep, stroking her skin - took a step forward. “With you. Whatever time you have left. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Her lips fell open, and he almost cried at how it took her a few moments to process it all - dear, sweet, simple Idunn - and he knew she had when she couldn’t keep the water from spilling from her eyes, collecting on her lower lashes like dew. “But you - you hate it. Hate this.”

Tandreth laughed bitterly. “Yes. I hate fate, I hate the work of Divines and Daedra. I hate to be helpless. But not you. Not…” His right hand moved up to her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Not this. Never this.”

Uncertainty now overrode all of Idunn’s fear, calming the maelstrom in his own mind. “I won’t let you die on my account.”

“You’re not listening. I want to live.” Tandreth repeated. “And if… if you’re right, I’m going to try my damndest to make sure meeting you meant something. To make sure the world doesn’t forget. Not just the hero, but the woman.”

“The woman isn’t anything.” Idunn said with a watery smile. “You’ll bore them all to pieces.”

“I’ll fight Akatosh himself if I can keep the woman on this world with me for one moment longer.” Tandreth nearly shook her, desperate for her to understand him, choking on the words he needed to say, before the end, before she was another one of his ghosts.

The fear in her returned, but it was a different fear - one he knew in himself. The caution, the hesitance, the disbelief - she was worried she’d misheard him, that she’d read too much into things. She started to pull away from him - she’d decided what he was trying to tell her was all in her head, and in response he pulled her closer.

“I love you.” he whispered - feeling as if he’d doomed them both.

[alarawriting]

52 Project #33: Amaldis

Yikes, I completely forgot to post this! Hard day at work. -------------------------------------------

The prince was young and handsome, as they all were, with the sort of arrogant good looks that wealth and power almost always brought.  It was a tragedy that so many of these young men had to die, the old woman thought.  Such a waste. She stepped out into the road, into the pathway of his horse.

The horse reared up as the prince pulled on the reins.  "Out of my way, old woman!"  he shouted.

"Are you going to the capital?"  the woman asked.  She was over 40, but well-fed, clean and well-dressed.  His eyes flickered over her, as if trying to decide her station.

"Yes.  What business is it of yours?"

"Have you come to join? To swear allegiance to the sorceress Amaldis?"

"No."  The prince's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword as fury darkened his features.  "I've come to kill the witch."

"Are you a fool, young man?"  The woman's eyes blazed, and she stepped up to his horse, glaring up at him.  "Threescore young men, brave and noble, have come to Cythia to kill the sorceress, and all of them have died.  Are you so arrogant and foolish as to believe you'll succeed where so many have failed?"

"I don't fear the witch's sorcery,"  the prince said firmly.  "I have a good sword and a trusty mount.  That's all I need."

"Oh, you are a fool.  A younger son? Expendable? You need to do something impossible, to make a name for yourself?"

"She stole lands that belong to my father!"  he shouted, his face purpling.  "My family's honor is at stake!"

"And so you'll die for your family's honor."

"If I die, at least I'll die in glory."

"Glory?" There was cold fury in the woman's voice.  "Let me tell you what glory is, boy.  Glory is a corpse rotting in a field, the crows plucking its eyes.  Glory is your lover weeping, knowing her man will never come home.  Glory is children bereft of fathers, crops burning, women raped, people enslaved.  I spit on your glory."  And she did, spitting on his boots.

The prince drew his sword, provoked beyond endurance, and swung it to behead the woman.  But she wasn't there.  Startled, he looked about himself, trying to find her.

The ground rumbled. The trees lining the road shed leaves in a storm of colors, and the earth began to shake.  The prince's horse reared up in terror, and tried to run, paying no heed when the prince pulled at the reins.  Then a chasm opened at the horse's feet, and horse and prince tumbled in together, screaming.

The chasm closed, and all was normal again.  Except for hoofprints that led to the midst of a meadow and vanished, it was as if the horse and rider had never been.

***

The scene vanished from the focusing crystal as the woman leaned back.  Her apprentice, Joraine, asked, "Did you have to kill him?"

Amaldis turned.  She was a stout woman of peasant stock, appearing to be a well-cared-for dowager of over 40 or so, with wavy black hair and blazing black eyes.  The fire in those eyes died slightly, to be replaced by sorrow, as she spoke.

"Sometimes it can be avoided,"  she told Joraine, a large-boned woman in her late twenties or early thirties. "But not this time.  You heard him.  I tried to get him to turn back, but no.  He was bound and determined to die gloriously."

"It seems so cruel,"  Joraine said. "All these brave young men, in the prime of their lives..."

"Yes.  It is cruel, and a waste.  But it's them or us.  If they had their way, they would make you a serf; condemn you to backbreaking labor all your life, with only the bare necessities of life in return.  Some would demand the right to rape you on your wedding night, or whenever you took their fancy; others would allow their priests to torture you for refusing to spout their doctrines; still others would conscript your sons to die in their wars."  Amaldis shook her head.  "Sooner or later, a group of these young heroes will come together and raise a truly massive army, perhaps a thousand men or more.  That will be tragic.  Because my powers won't be enough to hold them off entirely; and our people will have to fight and die."

"Why do they keep coming if you keep killing them?"

"You heard the one just now.  Honor and glory are worth more than their lives, and they think we stole their land."

"We did steal their land."

"Who gave them the right to own it?"  Amaldis looked hard at Joraine, and some of the fire came back to her eyes.  "We asked people if they wanted to be ruled by lords, or if they wanted to rule themselves.  They wanted to rule themselves, so we extended the borders of Cythia to their areas and let them.  As far as I'm concerned, the land belongs to the people who work it, not the nobles who get fat off it."

"Yes, but I'm saying, from their point of view we stole it."

"Yes.  And so they'll never leave us alone."  She sighed.  "That's why I want you a master sorceress as soon as possible, Joraine. Our defenses are strong, but they all rest on me, and I'm only one woman.  The most powerful sorceress in the world will still die if someone gets close enough to put a crossbow bolt through her throat."

"We have a militia, Amaldis.  They'd die to defend you, and so would I.  Anybody in Cythia would-- all of us love you."

"But everyone else in the world is trying to kill me."

"Don't talk like that!"  Joraine got up, distressed, and looked down at Amaldis.  "Remember the First Rule? 'When a magician and a swordsman fight, the magician will always win, provided she is smarter.' You're certainly smarter."

"Amend that rule. 'Provided she is smarter and makes no mistakes.' I'm 200 years old, Joraine, and I'm tired of being paranoid. I'm tired of constantly scanning to see if anyone is after me.  But I can never stop, because if I die, Cythia dies with me.  Unless you can protect it."

"I'm only 35," Joraine said quietly. "You've got 8 score more years of power built up in you.  Even when I turn master in a few years, I won't have nearly the power you do." She walked around to Amaldis and put her arms around her mentor's shoulders.  "Is something wrong?"

"Yes..." Amaldis stared into space. "I've had a premonition."

"Of what?"

"I don't know. Something terrible.  I don't know..."

Abruptly, awkwardly, Joraine hugged Amaldis.  "I won't let it,"  she whispered fiercely.  "Nothing's going to happen to you, so long as I have breath in my body to prevent it. You're the only mother I ever had, Amaldis, and I won't let you die."

***

Mor rode through the fields and woods of Cythia, heading steadily for the capital.

He was a big, brawny, barbarian type, proficient in any weapon but best with his broadsword, which was unbelievably large.  He came from a country many, many miles away, where he had successfully killed over a dozen magic-wielders.  He had also been offered the position of heir to the kingdom of Lowellan, if he could kill the sorceress Amaldis.  And he had no doubts about his ability to do so.

All this Amaldis could gather just from watching him through the focusing crystal.  It had been three days since the last prince had come, and she'd dispatched him; three days since she'd told Joraine about her premonition. A chill went down her spine, watching Mor ride.  Something about his aura frightened her terribly.  A dangerous man, moreso than any of the others.  She was tempted to kill him now, without even trying to persuade him to turn back.  But she had vowed she would always give them a chance.

So she focused herself, and appeared as an astral image, as solid as flesh but less real, standing in front of his horse's path.  The horse didn't even slow down.  It kept trotting on as if it would run her down, and Mor made no attempt to stop it.

Hastily she stepped back from its path.  If it went through her, it would do her no harm-- but it would reveal her as an illusion. "Will you stop, Mor, and listen to what I have to say?"  she said.

"There is nothing I need to hear from old women,"  he said.

Well.  That settled it, then.  She had given him a chance, and he had spit in her face.  

Amaldis came back to herself, letting her astral image vanish.  She looked deep into the crystal, focused, and spoke a Word.  It resonated in the air around her.  The resonation through the crystal was even greater.  There, the Word whipped the trees and caused the ground to shake.

Mor's mount stood firm, holding in one place as Mor stroked its head.  When the chasm started to open, the horse bolted as fast as it could go in the opposite direction, which happened to be the direction of the city. The chasm stopped widening before it could catch up to the fleeing beast, the power of the Word spent, and Mor and his animal made all possible speed for the city.

Amaldis threw another chasm in their way.  They leapt it, outran its expansion, and kept going.  She summoned demonic familiars and hobgoblins to waylay them.  Mor slew them all.  She cast illusions, which Mor paid little to no attention to; she summoned elementals, which Mor defeated; and she threw murderous obstacles in his path, which he destroyed, overcame, or bypassed.  Amaldis had never seen anything like it.  The man was at the outskirts of the city already, and still moving.  Nothing magical had done more than slow him, and she was exhausted from rapid spellcasting.

Grieving in her heart, she called for a messenger, and told him to tell the militia about the threat. Good men and women would die at Mor's hands, she knew, and if it were merely her own life at stake, she would gladly die in their place.  But she was founder, governor and defender of Cythia.  Without her, morale would be destroyed, the government would become unstable, and Cythia would be wide open and vulnerable to whatever conqueror wanted to take it.  

In her crystal, she watched as the militia went forth.  Then she began preparing for the possibility that Mor would reach her.  She set up some powerful and terrible binding spells, summoned a few invincible creatures from the lower planes, and set them to guard her door.  Then she sent a messenger to Joraine.

"Tell her I want her to go to the belltower and prepare a Spell of Unbinding of Truths," she told the messenger. "When it's complete, I'll examine it."  This particular spell took several hours to complete, and required its caster's full attention.  Joraine had been telling the truth, 3 days ago-- she would even sacrifice her own life to preserve Amaldis'.  Which would leave Cythia without a sorceress, if both of them were killed.  Joraine had to be tricked into leaving the battlefield before the fight began.

That done, Amaldis turned to watch the battle in her crystal.

The militia were getting decimated.  Amaldis sucked in her breath.  How was this possible? Few of them were very good swordsmen, and Mor was the best of the best, yes.  But still. It was impossible that one man could be doing such damage, and taking so little in return.  One man, and not a magic-user at that.  It wasn't even an enchanted blade he held-- Mor's contempt for magic was legendary.  Without assistance from magic, it was just not conceivable that one man, no matter how skilled, could cut his way through an army, no matter how green.  And yet Mor was doing it.

He had to be getting some sort of secret assistance. Amaldis focused in, looking for an invisible familiar, an enchanted item, something.  There was nothing so obvious.  If he had magical assistance, it was subtle and ran very deep.  Sick at heart, Amaldis forced herself to watch the slaughter of her people.  Here is your noble glory, all you young heroes. Here is what you wanted!

When she felt strong enough, she struck again, after sending a messenger ordering the decimated remains of the militia to retreat.  It looked as if Mor would pursue them, and continue the combat until they were all dead, but he changed his mind when she called a thunderstorm down on him, as if remembering that she was his real opponent.

She rained lightning at him, but somehow, impossibly, he always managed to avoid them, fortuitiously moving at the same split-second she initiated the bolt.  As he headed deeper and deeper into the city, people fled, knowing from the stormcloud that their governor was trying to stop the man, and failing.  Amaldis sent all sorts of creatures at him.  He killed them all, and kept coming.  Even when one of her creatures managed to kill his horse, he leapt off the beast and kept coming.

If he were not in her city, she could swallow him with a chasm now, or put a ring of fire around him-- without his horse, he was more vulnerable.  But this was her place, and she couldn't cause such damage to it. She notified the palace guard that he was coming, hoping desperately that he would be tired from the constant fighting, and easier to take down.  She had given the guard strict instructions that if casualties were too heavy, they were to flee.  But she didn't truly believe they would obey.  

The palace guard met and fought Mor.  He was still impossibly skilled-- his battles seemed to have barely blunted his edge. Again, Amaldis scanned him for magic, and this time she did catch a faint whiff.  Quickly she focused her probe, sweeping him up and down, but at this range it still eluded her.  When he got closer, perhaps she would be able to find it, and negate it; but of course, when he got closer she would have other things to worry about.

She began to scream into the crystal, ordering the guard to retreat, as Mor destroyed them.  She appeared to them astrally, pleading with them to run and save themselves, but they ignored her.  Mor was only a swordsman-- they should be able to take him down.  The fact that they obviously couldn't meant nothing, when it was honor at stake.  Tears burned in her eyes.  How many more good people would die for honor's damnable sake?

Now nearly all her guard were dead.  Amaldis steeled herself.  He was coming this way.  One way or another, even if he kills me, he won't live to enjoy his victory.

Then the door slammed open, and slammed shut behind as Mor strode into Amaldis's chamber.

"Time for you to die, witch,"  he said, advancing on her.

Amaldis released the demon guard.  Invincible and tireless, the two launched themselves at him, battering him.  The air rang with the clash of his sword on their metallic armor.  While he was occupied with that, Amaldis searched him magically-- and finally found what she was looking for.  There was a magical luck charm on him, cast before his birth, woven throughout his entire being.  He had never failed at anything.  And there was no way to remove the charm, not without negating her own power.

At this point, Mor defeated the invincible demons by thrusting his sword's point into their mouths. That shouldn't have killed them. But by now, Amaldis knew that the universe was on Mor's side.  If an improbable occurrence was necessary for his survival, it would happen.  If an impossible occurrence, even, was necessary, it would happen.

How could she defeat someone like that?

She spoke a Word, to activate a binding spell.  He hated magic so much-- if she could make him see that he was using magic, perhaps he could renounce the spell, or perhaps he would leave her alone.  It was not very likely, but the only other alternative was to negate all magic, and that would destroy her power, too.  The spell caught Mor tight, holding him motionless. He struggled against the spell, as Amaldis spoke coldly.  "You have such contempt for magic.  But you yourself are a magic-user, Mor of Savann."

"You lie, witch," he grated out.

"No lie.  How do you think it's possible that one lone man can kill over 50? That you miraculously survived everything I attacked you with? It's impossible.  No one else has gotten even as far as the city, much less the palace, except for you--"

She sensed the bonds shattering before it happened.  Somehow, he had broken her binding spell by flexing his muscles.  That's not possible! Amaldis thought, and then remembered that Mor's luck charm could do the impossible.  She leapt out of the way as he grasped his sword and swung it at her.

Amaldis cried a Word of power, and a bolt of light flashed out from her fingertips-- but he dodged. The laws of reality seemed to be breaking down to accomodate him.  She threw up a magical shield, and his broadsword cut it in half.  That wasn't possible, either.

Amend the rule, she thought, gasping, as she dodged another broadsword swing at her head.  The magician will always win, provided the sword-wielding barbarian doesn't have magic of his own.  It was getting harder to dodge, and there were fewer places to dodge to.  Amaldis truly understood then that no magic could stop him.  Even a sudden death spell would unravel against the luck charm placed on him. There was only one thing that could possibly work, and the notion filled her with horror.

There was a secret spell, jealously guarded by the few magicians who knew it.  It was a last-resort weapon in magical combat, intended to take one's enemy down with one.  The secret spell consisted of a single spoken Word, which could negate all magic within a certain radius.  Mor was certainly within that radius.  Unfortunately, by definition, so was the caster-- which was why it was a weapon of last resort.  Amaldis had built up a great deal of power in 200 years.  If she negated Mor's advantage, she lost all of that power, which might end up dooming Cythia as surely as if she died.  And without her magic, she would be no match for him in combat anyway.

The sword smashed her crystal, scattering pieces everywhere, as she ducked behind it.  Then there was a wall at her back, and nowhere to dodge to. Terror gripped her-- this was it. Only one chance-- and even that was more likely to see her avenged than saved.  But it would be enough to be avenged, if that was all she could have.

She said the Word.

The magic drained out of the air.  Amaldis sagged against the wall, feeling suddenly a thousand years old.  For the first time, she could hear the pounding on the door, and realized it had been going on for some time.  

Mor hesitated.  He had sensed the change, apparently, though doubtless he couldn't understand what it signified.  In that moment of hesitation, Amaldis flung herself to the side, and so when the broadsword came down it pierced through her shoulder, slicing away her arm, not her head.  Amaldis screamed.

The door slammed open behind Mor, and there was a flash of light.  Mor dropped, an expression of disbelief on his face.  With rapidly glazing eyes, Amaldis saw through the pain that Joraine was running toward her.  Then it became too dark to see anymore.

***

Amaldis wakened to the sound of Joraine weeping.  "It can't be too late,"  Joraine was saying.  "Come on, heal, Amaldis, heal! Please!"

Amaldis swallowed, and croaked in a hoarse voice, "I seem not to be dead.  How surprising."

"You're back!" Joraine wiped her eyes and looked at Amaldis.  "I brought you back! Oh thank you, Goddess, thank you, thank you..." She hugged Amaldis and began to weep again, this time for joy.

But as memory filtered back, Amaldis could see little cause to be joyful.  She was alive, yes, and Mor was dead...  but the cost had been her power.  The only defense Cythia had had to keep it from a bloody war, and being overrun and conquered, had been her power.  And now it was gone.

Tears welled in her eyes. After all her hard work, all the energy and enthusiasm her people had expended to make her dream a reality, one man with a magic charm could bring it all crashing down.  What was the point to living, if her dream was dead? In a voice like ash, she said, "Joraine, my powers..."

Joraine lifted her head and looked down at her.  "I know. I know."

"Cythia is finished."  There was no strength, no life in her voice, just ruins and despair.

"No-- there's a way. There has to be a way."

"That's wishful thinking.  " Amaldis changed the subject. "How did you find me? I told you to prepare a Spell of Unbinding..."

"The guard-- what was left of it-- broke in and told me you were fighting with that creature." Joraine's voice had an edge of fury to it.  "I couldn't get the door open, at first--"

"His luck charm. It must have kept the door locked."

"When I got it open and saw he'd cut off your arm-- I almost went berserk.  But it's all right now.  I healed you.  Your arm's fine."

"My arm's irrelevant, Joraine.  My magic is gone.  Without that..."

"No! We can buy time. We can keep going on a bluff for a while.  I won't let your dream die like this!"

"Buy time for what?"  Amaldis wanted to be swept away by Joraine's youthful determination, but 200 years of experience had told her that when something was doomed, it was doomed. There was nothing they could do. "It'll be another hundred years before you're powerful enough to defend Cythia by yourself..."

"Then we can't rely so much on magic.  We need to find other solutions."  Joraine got up off the bed.  "We can buy time, like I said.  And in that time, we can recruit more people.  We can train all our citizens to fight and defend the country if they have to. We can try to recruit another magician. If we could get two or three magicians my age, we could all band together.  Besides.  Once people hear you killed Mor, they won't be eager to try you for some time.  No one needs to know you're injured-- and as long as they send in their heroes one at a time, we can pick them off ourselves, the militia and I.  We can send emissaries to other countries, and see if they have superior weapons or magical techniques we can use.  There are all sorts of things we can try, Amaldis.  You can't give up!"

"I'm old," Amaldis said softly.  "I had a dream once, a revolutionary new idea, when I was young.  But I'm no revolutionary anymore."

"You can't give up--"

"No.  I'm not giving up.  I'm passing the torch to you."  Amaldis forced herself to a sitting position.  The change made her dizzy and she swayed.  Joraine quickly moved to prop pillows behind her. "You're right, of course. I'll continue to govern Cythia and to teach you magic-- I still know the techniques, I simply haven't got the power for them anymore.  But you'll be in charge of devising our defense, Joraine.  You're young and creative enough to see new ways of doing things.  I can't anymore."

"I don't think you're as old and decrepit as you think you are, Amaldis,"  Joraine said.  "Is this because you lost your magic?"

"Yesterday, for all my years, I was a young woman.  Today I feel older than time itself.  It has to be you, Joraine.  I-- lost something vital when I lost my power, I think.  Cythia's future is going to rest on you."

"You should rest," Joraine said, moving the pillows back so Amaldis could lay down.  "Go to sleep.  You'll feel better when you're recovered."

"I doubt it," Amaldis said softly, but allowed Joraine to put her to bed.  The last thing she saw, through slitted eyes near the edge of sleep, was Joraine sitting by her bed.  Her face seemed to Amaldis to look like her own had, when she was only thirty and had grandiose dreams for saving the world.  Yes.  The torch was in capable hands.  

Amaldis slept.

[missholland]

The one(s) who never stop searching

I sometimes wonder whether Hanguang Jun grew up with a role model, is there anyone he looks up to, or that just doesn’t exist because LWJ is too busy being admired and respected by pretty much everyone else (apart from his biggest anti-fan Su She).

Of course, he adores his soulmate. BUT, now rewatching the Coffin Town arc, I just really want to write something about LWJ and his admiration for Xiao Xingchen/Song Lan.

LWJ first met XXC and SL in episode 10 when checking out Chang clan’s manor in Yue Yang with WWX and JC. The duo captured Xue Yang there, and introduced themselves to the gang.

‘Xiao Xingchen, the moon in the breeze. Song Zichen, the Gentry despite the frost. Your decency is known to us’. This was probably the longest sentence LWJ said to another human being since the beginning of the series. Even his eyes scream ‘I’m a fan’ and makes WWX turn around in surprise. 

During their later conversation as NHS and JGY arrive, XXC and SL talk about how they’re not interested in bloodlines and just cherish those with same ambitions. LWJ has obviously been listening very carefully, and even actually asks where they cultivate and how others can find them. I mean, since LWJ has not really opened up by that point, it’s truly impressive coming across new characters that manage to generate so much interest from LWJ within a very short time. Let me repeat. he even ASKS PERSONAL QUESTIONS!

His admiration becomes VERY clear just a few minutes after during the farewell scene. It’s probably only the 3rd time LWJ gives us a mellow facial expression since episode 1. He watches on as XXC and SL depart - quite a long look with a mix of emotions: appreciating, pondering, wondering, with a tiny bit of sorrow, somehow. He was clearly in his own world until WWX calls him back down to earth. He then gives his soulmate a soft look before nodding and following the gang. WWX clearly senses that LWJ has something in mind, as they walk, he turns and looks at LWJ.

This is how I interpret LWJ’s thought process in that sequence. As he looks on XXC and SL leaving, it feels like he has a bunch of ‘What if...’ questions in his head. Probably something along the line of ‘Darn, wouldn’t it be nice to just roam the world with your lifelong confidant, protect the weak, exorcise the evil without the burden of playing clan politics? What if I was not restricted by 3,500 rules at Gusu? What if I could actually live a life as in my name WangJi - to not seek fame or wealth, forget about worldly matters, and be at peace with the world?’. As soon as WWX calls him he turns around and.... ‘What if I could live that life with this person?’.

I’m convinced from this point, LWJ already has a vision in his head about going on adventures with his soulmate. We know he eventually got his dream come true from episode 34 onward, but it was a very very long and painful way for him to get there. At the end of episode 35, when filling WWX in about what happened to XXC and SL, LWJ was visibly upset which led him into having himself a drink. Some may argue that his frustration is due to people still shitting on WWX after all these years, or about the injustice related to Jin clan and Xue Yang rather than XXC and SL. I still think that being reminded of the duo’s tragic fate when talking to WWX does have some impact on LWJ’s emotion. 

It was a clear case of extreme clan-related injustice that brought so much pain to the lives of 2 people who are not even attached to any sect whatsoever, 2 people who just purely wanted to protect the world from evil while not taking side. They were simply caught up in the whole major clans corruption shamble, and clearly the last people on earth who deserved to die/gone missing because of the clans’ mess. For someone who has long admired their decency, how would that NOT frustrate LWJ - someone who’s already in a long battle against injustice that screwed over his soulmate’s life?

Fast forward to the end of the Coffin Town arc in episode 39, it’s now revealed that Xue Yang murdered everyone at Snow White Pavilion, turned SL blind and led XXC to give his eyes to SL. As LWJ was searching for WWX, elsewhere, someone else was also looking for their other half. Unfortunately, SL arrived to find XXC being deceived by Xue Yang, and basically all of them ended up with tragic fates. Once all of the misunderstanding is finally clarified, we find WangXian and the junior disciples in front of A Qing’s grave. Once again, WWX notices LWJ being miles away in his own thoughts. He looks up and stares into his soulmate’s beautifully surreal face. It has an odd sense of relief in his vision, mixed with a bit of fear - a ‘close call’ type of fear, like... ‘Something even more awful could have happened’. 

LWJ then mumbles ‘Fortunately...’ to a confused WWX and probably because of censorship, we never get to hear the end of that sentence. Putting in the context of everything that just happened to them, it’s not too difficult to work out that LWJ was acknowledging how extremely lucky he was being able to reunite with WWX safe and sound. Sadly, XXC and SL did not get that chance.

 They then returned to XXC’s coffin to find SL. LWJ looks on, apologetically, as WWX gives SL what’s left of XXC’s spiritual cognition. Just a quick side note, I cry EVERY SINGLE TIME watching SL write in the soil with this sword ‘Roam this world with Frostwork. Exorcise evil beings alongside Xingchen’. 

LWJ then looks up to SL and it feels so strongly that he wanted to say something. He’s been there - he saw his soulmate falling off the cliff. He started to invest most of his time searching for WWX, from appearing whenever chaos was to communicating with spirits asking for WWX’s whereabouts. 16 years of mourning the dead and living with the pain, feeling incomplete and empty without his counterpart. 

LWJ is the only person who can relate to SL. And that’s probably why he knows there’s nothing to be said that could ease the pain. He proceeds to respectfully present SL with XXC’s Frostwork and bow. 

LWJ, with sadness in his eyes,  watches SL walk away, this time without XXC by his side. The scene cuts to WWX thinking to himself ‘I wonder if the two of them would be able to meet each other again’. The same thought must have gone through LWJ’s mind as well. WangXian then exchange a mournful look - if only the camera has stuck around longer for us right here, as I’m sure, this could have been the ‘We should be thankful that we are still standing in front of each other’.

I really appreciate The Untamed crew setting a good 3-episode arc aside to tell the tragic story of XXC/SL/XY the best way they could. It’s also a good idea to change the timeline of certain event so that XXC and SL cross path with WangXian in WWX’s first life, as it lets us see from very early on that LWJ is not just a rigid guy to follow rules all the time. He doesn’t have all the answers to everything in his life just because he reads all the books at Gusu. He does have certain insecurity and curiosity about a different path, now that there’s someone in his life that make it worth considering. It also provides more context to the unfortunate contrary between the fates of WangXian and SongXiao.

If you’re also impressed with this arc as much as I am, I would strongly recommend checking out the novel as it tells us a lot more about SongXiao origin story and how their feud with Xue Yang started. Besides the main couple whom all of us obviously stan, this storyline definitely impressed me the most rather than anything else. I really wish one day Song Lan would succeed in nursing Xiao Xingchen’s spiritual recognition back to wholeness and they would meet again.

[notagamersdey]

The Dream

Painting by: Henri Rousseau

Photo (2021) and Story By Tyler D. Ortiz

Rating: T

Word Count: 2k~

Warnings: bad language, panic attacks

A/N: So this story is inspired by the Pedro Pascal episode of the podcast Talk Art (31:14-34:15). Go check that out if you want to hear some fun stories by the hosts and pp.

Summary: Matias, after losing his chance to act in a popular TV show, is taken to the Museum of Modern Art by his sister where he realizes he has nothing to lose.

~~~

Today, I’m supposed to meet my sister Lyanna here at East Village Pizza. She said it was a special treat for getting my first “big” role on Law & Order. When I told her the news, she had jumped up for joy, squealing my ear off. It wasn’t a big deal, just another job for the bills, but she was adamant that this job was a life changer. She’s says that about every job.

I came to the pizza parlor early, grabbing my favorite seat in front of the window. We normally sat here when we came because it gave us the perfect view of cold, angry New Yorkers. I had ordered our pizza, waiting for her to arrive when my phone starts to buzz.

I open it up and put it against my ear, holding it with my shoulder, “This is Matias.”

“Matias, I'm sorry to tell you…” Fuck, “…but we’ve decided to go in a different direction...” It’s the fucking casting director, droning on, saying those same fucking words, “You have wonderful talent.,” “You didn’t fit the director's vision.,” etcetera. Etcetera. ETCETERA. It's all movie-talk for “You weren't good enough.”

Grabbing the scruff behind my neck, I slammed my phone shut and stuffing it into my jacket pocket. What the hell was I going to do now? Three hundred bucks – gone in an instant.

“Here’s your order, Sir,” A waiter places the small pizza in front of me, and you know, today was one of the rare days I was able to scrounge enough money to afford the luxury of a decent slice of pizza, and now I can’t even enjoy it.

“God dammit,” It’s moments like these when memories of my father came hit me like a freight train. He used to berate me about goals and aspirations, telling me, “It’s never going to happen, Matias,” and “It’s not a job. You won’t get anywhere with that.” In high school, I used to constantly fight with him, telling him my dreams were achievable. That I would succeed as an actor. He would laugh in my face; tell me they were unobtainable. I mean... Maybe he was right.

Now, I’m living in one of the most expensive cities with over 300,000 dollars in debt, 40 bucks to my name, and a dead-beat waiter job at Planet Hollywood that barely pays for food let alone the bills. I have no back-up plan, no emergency fund. I just had my bachelor's degree in acting, which won't pay for shit.

I shake my head. My neck and back start to ache, an oncoming migraine sitting on my temples.

Matias, the fuck do you want to do that for?

Matias, you’re not good enough.

Matias, you will always be alone.

I stand to leave, throwing the untouched pizza in the trash on my way out the door. The cold winter air bites at my nose when I step outside. I pull my scarf up closer to my neck and make my way down East 9th Street.

Leaving the restaurant doesn’t help. Hopelessness rushes over me like a tsunami. The texture of the wool sweater underneath my jacket scratched annoyingly at the exposed skin on my wrists. It’s a cold wintery day but I feel incredibly hot underneath the layers. A nervous sweat builds underneath my beanie. Everyone’s staring, I know it. They know I've failed yet again. They know I’m just a naïve child.

His voice repeats in my head like a tornado siren, yelling, screaming at me, “You will not survive.”

You will not make an income.

You will not have healthcare.

You are setting yourself up for failure.

…You will die- My phone starts to buzz again. I really want to fucking ignore it but if it’s Lyanna, she’d have every cop in the city on my ass within the hour.

“Hey.” I cough, trying to clear my throat. Act normal.

“Mat! I’m sorry I’m late, I’m-” She sounds like she’s running.

“Actually, Sis, I left…” I stop in the middle of the pavement, getting shoved and cursed at by the impetuous crowd around me.

“What? Why?” Her concerned voice seeps through the phone. Suddenly, heat shoots up my back. She’s going to be upset.

I move off to the side, leaning up against a wall of graffiti, “I didn’t get the job after all.”

I hear her let out a breath, “Different direction?” She asks, knowingly.

I nod, “Yea... said I could act the part, but I didn’t fit the type of Latino they were going for... whatever the hell that means.” I spit out, bitterly.

“Means they’re bigoted.” I can hear the annoyed twinge in her voice.

“Yea... probably...” Lyanna stays quiet. “Hey... So, I’m not really up for doing anything... Can we just go home?”

“Umm...” She hums, clicking her tongue, “No.”

“Lyanna...” Please.

“No, no, I’m serious, I know you. Once you get home you're going to sulk in your room for days. Let's bypass the self-pity and go have fun. Take your mind off it.”

I’m silent for a moment, feeling my anxiety subside as I focus on her words, “What do I get if your wrong?”

“A fresh slice of cheese pizza to replace the one you probably threw away...” She laughs, “Now, how ‘bout MoMA?”

“Sure… MoMA sounds good.”

I’ve always found it difficult to find the Museum of Modern Art. The only way anyone would be able to tell where this museum was is with the three bright red banners hanging off the side of the building holding their acronym in an even darker shade of red. This was basically every building in New York so, of course, I pass right by it. Lyanna managed to catch me before I got too far. She runs up to me and immediately linked her arm into mine.

“Hey stranger, took you long enough.” She greats, warmly.

“You know how it is.”

“Oh common, where’s that smile? We are celebrating!” She starts to pull me into the museum, warm air painting my face when she opens one of the doors.

“Celebrating a failure.”

“Celebrating life.”

We walk in and are bombarded with hordes of people packed in front of every corner of the room. It's as if every single person visiting New York had decided that they would all collectively visit the museum on this specific day. Maybe they were having an event. People of all shapes and sizes were packed in front of each art piece, creating a thick barrier preventing outsiders from looking in on their beauty. In the corner of the room is a balloon man handing out replicas of Jeff Koon’s Balloon Dog to children. I clench my teeth at the disgusting sound of rubber and latex rubbing together. I feel a hot prickling in my neck at the sight of a child squeezing the neck of their bright metallic green Balloon Dog, another child on the edge of crying as she violently hit her blue Balloon Dog onto her stroller seat.

Someone bumps into me. I feel myself tense up. Don’t touch me. I take my arms away from Lyanna, hiding them in my pockets. Lyanna looks up at me, “Hey, are you okay?”

Fuck no,“Yes.”

“You sure? You seem tense,” she raises her eyebrow.

“No. No... I'm good... There’s just.” Act normal, “A lot of people.”

“Well, if you’re sure...” Everyone is breathing my air - of course I’m not sure. “You wanna start off this way then make our way around?” she asks pointing to her left. I nod.

She guides me to the fifth floor, to our first painting. Shes pushing through the crowds so we could get a closer look. It’s a dark painting with a black, shadowy silhouette of an elephant trudging on an upwards incline. The air around him grey, as if he was pushing through a sandstorm. He is struggling to get to wherever he was headed. I’m suddenly pushed closer to the struggling elephant. Lyanna snaps at someone behind me. A balloon pop’s. A child's scream echo around the room. The dark clouds surrounding the elephant fill my edge of my vision as my eyes zoom into the lonely elephant. My throat begins to close. My heart hurts. A voice in my head whispers “You’re dying. You’re dying.” in a joyous chant. I try to breathe but nothing can get through. My hands prickle. My chest stutters. The elephant fades. Only the shadowing and silhouettes of people fill my vision. I still feel the pain in my throat, as I try to breath in air.

Lyanna speaks but her voice is muffled. The darkness that had overtaken my vision slowly fades away. I sit up straight, feeling the soft leather beneath me, becoming aware of my surroundings. We are in different exhibit. It's completely empty. I shift, feeling the leather bench beneath my finger tips. The silence is soothing.

“You feeling better?” Lyanna sits next to me with a cup of water in her hands, causing the leather beneath creaked.

I close my eyes. God. She grabs at my hand but I pull away. Please go away. I can feel her eyes burning into my soul. It’s unbearable. I turn away from her. Please go away. She grips at the cup tightly. The crunch of the cup is excruciating.

“Matias.” She attempts to grab my hand again. I see it coming from a mile away. Like in slow motion. The closer she got, the more I dreaded the contact.

“Fuck! Stop! Can you please just give me a God damn minute?” I stand up trying to get away.

“What is happening?” She’s mad. You’ve ruined everything.

“I don’t want to be fucking touched, Lyanna. Just stop. Stop everything. Leave me alone.” I’m staring at the floor. If I look at her, I’m going to lose it. Shameful. Embarrassing.

“I’m only trying to help.” You’re an embarrassment.

“You’re not!” She’s going to never going to forgive you.

“Okay…” She stands slowly, “Let’s relax for a moment… I’ll be back in a few minutes… Just text me if you need anything.” I don’t say anything while she walks away, the sound of her shoes fading. I sit back down onto the chair, head in my hands.

I take a few deep breaths, focusing on the ground beneath me. The floor is smooth, my hair is soft and messy, the pressure of my elbows on my knees grow. My eyes leave the floor only to be met with a flood of green. A naked woman waking up on a large red couch in the middle of a jungle. Light green paints the leaves towards the bottom of the canvas and becomes darker going up towards the sky. The bright flowers burst up in different directions as the moon peaks through the canopy. The woman is surrounded by hidden animals. I spot a few hidden tigers, a white bird on the top left, a person hidden in the shadows playing an instrument, a few monkeys in the trees and an elephant beyond the trees staring back at me. It was a paradise. So sure of herself, she sits there facing away from me as if she has nothing to lose. She sits unafraid of the world around her.

I can’t relate. I’ll never get my chance. I’ll never not be afraid. I continue to stare at her, trying to understand what she may have done differently. Maybe she kept going. Maybe she stopped caring. Or maybe someone gave her a chance. Whatever she did must’ve worked because she continues to sit as if she has nothing left to lose –

“Henri Rousseau’s The Dream,” I jump. Lyanna stands on my right, staring at the painting with a hand on her hip, “Most people hate this painting.”

“I don’t see why…”

“Eh… Everybody has their own opinions…” She approaches cautiously, “Do you feel any better?”

I nod. “S-sorry,” I look back to the painting, “I just needed a moment to myself.”

“Don’t apologize… I should’ve… I don’t know, been more mindful, I guess.” She sits down next to me. I can see her hesitate before she puts a hand on my shoulder, “Are you going to be okay?”

I don’t answer at first. I look back at the painting. The Dream she called it. Maybe, this was the woman’s dream. Maybe she is like me. Our chances will arise. She strives towards her peace with nature around her as I strive for success in the asphalt jungle. Just as she has nothing left to lose, I, too, have nothing to lose. We are the same.

“Yea… I think I will be.”

~~~

Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think! Let me know if I missed a tag or a warning.

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Till Next Time!

-Dey