#if only i had found this at the beginning of my essay rather than at the end

[westmeath]

Excerpt on Midnight Cowboy from an interview with John Schlesinger in Literature/Film Quarterly, 1978:

Riley: When I've shown the film to students, they have very mixed feelings about the ending. How do you see that? What is that moment to Joe? Is it affirmative, or is it despairing?

Schlesinger: I don't see it as a despairing ending. I feel that it's a catharsis to the whole film. It's a catharsis of a boy who has been lost and who has these strange memories of being picked out for sexual prowess and how important that seemed to him. He has this whole experience of going to New York and finding that the fantasy is total bullshit and that the reality of life there is one of eking out some kind of existence, and then he finds the relationship that he strikes up with Ratso. Some people have said it's a homosexual relationship, but it really isn't per se. It's about the need of one human being for another. I daresay that Ratso- if anybody had found him attractive, man, woman, or dog- would have been anxious to express it physically perhaps. That's why he was so hostile towards it all. But I think that having made a commitment to Ratso, Joe realized the whole ludicrousness of the situation. On the bus he ruminates about the possibilities of what he's going to do, and I think in the back of his mind his taking Ratso to Miami is a kind of gesture. I think he knows it's hopeless. That's what I remember discussing with Jon Voight, that Joe knows they aren't going there for a life together in the future. He knows that Ratso's probably not going to survive the journey. At the end when he sits there with Ratso, I don't think Joe's saying, "Now what am I going to do? I'm lost." I think he's already released himself from the fantasy, he already knows that he's going to be okay.

It certainly never struck me as we were doing it that we were making something that was meant to send the audience out in deep depression feeling that Joe Buck is totally lost, because I don't think he is.

Riley: As a matter of fact, he's saved.

Schlesinger: Yes, and I think he's saved by that relationship, by discovering something about the possibilities of a human relationship in the midst of this very unlikely one. That's exactly what attracted me to the material.

[thekingofwinterblog]

My Hero Academia - How NOT to do an Open Ending

In 2022, the American animated series Amphibia ended with an open ending that left all of it's ships up in the air, and the question of where the main characters would go from there up to the reader.

That might be a rather weird way to open an essay about how My Hero Academia failed, but the reason I do so, is to illustrate a point.

Namely that there is a way to do what Hori tried to do with MHA right.

Amphibia ending has the main human trio of that series reuinte after a long timeskip, with all 3 of them having found their passion in life and built careers for themselves, and while there are some suggestions that Sasha and Anne are a bit closer than what might be apparant on screen, it ultimately left the situation of their romantic relationship at this point, and from there on, up in the air withouth confirming or denying anything, beyond the fact that they for whatever reason drifted apart in highschool, but have come back together again at this point in time.

It left you with enough pieces to figure out the specifics, and how you can understand how things got from one point to another, while still giving all the characters a satisfying payoff, continued the shows themes, had no real plot holes, and wheter you ship any of the characters in question or not, it didnt ultimately matter for the quality of the ending.

The fun part about an open ending is that there is room to speculate, so long as it manages to balance all of the above.

A story does not HAVE to end on the main characters hooking up. it does not have to end with tying every single character up in a relationship and showcasing the beginning of the next generation. It does not have to have a definite ending that gives all the answers to be good.

That is one way to end a story, but it's not the only one.

There certainly are stories that NEED to end like that to be good, stories with a greater mystery, or revenge tales, or who's entire story was about one, specific romantic relationship are shit endings if they ultimately end on an open ending withouth answers.

within the context of MHA, Hori managed to weave this balance very well with it's villains.

The story of the Todoroki family in particular has all the definite endings, and tells us where all the players ends up... but it also leaves the possibility, and question of wheter or not dabi ultimately managed to make peace with his family or not up in the air.

This is a good, satisfying, tragic ending.

Spinner and compress both end up in jail for the rest of their lives, but Spinner resolves to write a book, that for better or worse will tell the league's version of the story. It's not AS good an ending as the above, but it still works just fine.

Clearly Hori CAN write a good open ending that still gives closure.

Which is why it's so baffling that MHA 430, ends up doing EVERYTHING WRONG as far as an open ending possibly could.

It has no closure, it has plot holes aplenty, it manages to leave the question of will they or wont they unanswered, not by being ambigious, but by telling us, in the most unintentionally agressive manner possible that it did NOT happen, and most damningly of all, it shits all over the Story's themes.

MHA ends with the cast all grown up in an "and the adventure Continues!" ending, similar to justice league Unlimited.

That's not a BAD way to end it... The problem is EVERYTHING ELSE in this chapter.

Because we learn WAY too much in this chapter. the gaps in the timeskip is filled... but not in a good way. instead in an infuriating manner that pisses you off if you actually starts to break it down.

Let's start with Izuku being forgotten.

So i have seen some people try to shut down criticism about the fact that Izuku didnt win fortune or fame, by noting that from the thematic point, being a hero was NEVER about that from Izuku's point of view.

And that is true... but this argument misses the bigger and more obvious problem.

The story REFUSES to tackle this from that angle.

As many have pointed out, this is a BAD outcome ending for Izuku.

He returned to being quirkless, he had to settle for a job that wasn't being a hero, he has been mostly forgotten after his one big highlight, and his friends have effectively begun to move on.

And he does not care.

At all.

Hell, a 14 year old izuku who for one brief moment gave up on his dreams to chase a more realistic future, has more genuine and mixed emotion and mixed feelings in one shot, than Izuku has about actually living through a much more bittersweet scenario.

Hell, the one moment Izuku has when he looks genuinely down in this chapter, is when Aizawa admonishes him for not being strict enough with his students.

Basically the premise here is sound. Izuku ended up in a bad personal ending to set up the return to actual heroics at the end of the chapter... And that could have worked if it committed to that.

If he was portrayed as actually having regrets about his lot in life. you know, the same thing All Might's ENTIRE STORYLINE was built around!

MHA has ALWAYS been a human story that confronted the fact that people had regrets, and problems, and they need to be honest about them to deal with them.

To not bottle everything up inside and pretend the problems arent there.

For the story to end, with Izuku doing EXACTLY THAT is a slap in the face that goes EVERYTHING this story has preached about how you need to communicate with the people around you. the entire point of chapter 429, the CHAPTER RIGHT BEFORE THIS ONE!

Then of course there is the whole "Everyone Growing apart" thing too.

Now, it's not as bad as the early translation made it seem, but the point still stands that despite the entire chapter right before the end then emphasises how everyone went their separate ways.

This chapter COULD have shown us moments where Izuku is still in contact with the rest of his class, but it does not. instead it emphasises how distant he is becoming from the rest of his former friend group. He is the lone one out, the one guy who seemingly is no longer in regular contact with the rest.

The reason for that, is that Hori wanted to make the moment where he returns to the fold that much more impactfull... but it does not work, because it basically tells us that none of the class was able, or willing to make the personal sacrifice to keep in regular touch with him during those 5 years.

But FAR more egrigiously, and spitting in the face of the Theme of actually communicating and talking with the people you care about, is HOW Izuku gets back into the game.

Apparently they spent the last 5 years pooling their money to finance a high tech suit for him to fight crime in.

And i get it. I get what Hori WANTED to do with this. He wanted to show "See, Class 1-A didnt forget Izuku after all, they still love him!".

Thats the intended message.

But the problem is, it does not work. and in fact, not only does it NOT work, but it completely goes against EVERYTHING that the story has been trying to preach for the entire 10 years of it's run.

The rest of class A never told Izuku about this. ever. Why? apparently because they wanted it to be a surprise. So they just let him go on with his life for 5 years, all while none of them really bothered to keep in regular contact with him.

There is... so much wrong with that.

But before going over the way it just hammers in the point that actually talking with the people you love isnt important after all, let's go over how this entire stupid plan could have backfired SO badly on the part of class A. Hell, it kinda did actually, if not quite as spectacularily as it could have.

What if Izuku had gotten married and moved overseas during this period? What if he had gotten married in Japan, but his entire family dynamic and plans had revolved around the fact he had a job that did not require moving around much and so got to spend a lot of time at home? Hell, even within the context of what actually Happened, U.A is still going to find itself suddenly short of one teacher who his classes relies upon, if he actually wants to go pro for real.

There are so many ways this stupid 5 year scheme of secrecy could have backfired, and it does not take a genuis to be able to see them.

basically the entire class planned out Izuku's life ahead of him withouth telling him anything about it, withouth giving him the context or preparation for how to plan his future with it in mind, and how none of them seemingly cared about how this might upend his actual personal life.

And thats just the logistical issues.

Morally speaking, this just repeatedly hammers in how this final chapters just completely abandons the themes of how you need to actually work, talk and discuss your personal matters and feelings with the people around you.

1-A did none of that.

They let their relationships with Izuku cool, when they didnt have to, seemingly with the idea that it didnt matter in the end because he'd join them anew as a hero later anyway, and they could catch up then.

Which leads me to discussing the one, actual ship who's ending actually DID matter from a storytelling perspective.

Izuku and Ochako.

Now i have seen so many bad takes across the web from the people who are happy this did not happen, or argue that it does not matter.

But the brutal truth is, it does.

And the reason it does, is not because Izuku HAD to end up with Uraraka, or even that they had to be together in the final moment of the series.

It's because one of the longest running stories of this manga had NO ENDING, NO RESOLUTION, and rather than that, it wants to suggest it might still happen anyway... Despite unintentionally KILLING IT in the most infuriating way possible.

Out of all of the cast, it is Uraraka's character who is butchered by this stupid 5 year plan, to the point it even taints her entire new character direction at the end.

Uraraka ends the story having reformed the Quirk system for people growing up, helping those with difficult quirks get past mental problems... But just all the rest of her class, she chose to neglect her relationship with Izuku under the seeming thought process that she could patch it up later... Or that she could finally confess her feelings.

I'll let Shigaraki speak for my feelings on this way of thinking.

"You heroes hurt your own families just to help strangers. You heroes pretend to be society's guardians. For generations, you pretended not to see those you couldn't protect and swept their pain under the rug. It's tainted everything you built. That means your system's rotten from the inside with maggots crawling out. It all builds up little by little over time."

The intended message of MHA is a refution of this... but in this final chapter, Shigaraki's words ring true, at least as far as class A is concerned.

As they became Heroes, they neglected the one amongst them who needed the most support and instead went off to, as shigaraki put it, Help Strangers.

They pretended that Izuku's situation in the moment did not matter, because in the long haul it would all be worth it.

And just like their predeccessors, it taints everything they do.

But Uraraka most of all. If you ignore the romance angle, she has started a massive program to help strangers in need... while also neglecting and frankly mistreating someone she loves and cares about her who needed her support in his weakest period.

If you do take Romance into account, it gets even WORSE, because then you have to accept that Uraraka ultimately rejected the message that she preached with Toga, the thing that got the blonde girl to turn coat for her.

She in the end did not manage to live a life where she actually was able to do what she wanted to do, and instead remained the exact same wishywashy girl who refused to actually be open about her feelings.

Instead, she, in her final shot of the series, is in the exact same spot she was back then. A girl who would forever pine after Izuku, but never be able to open up about it.

Which would be a bad enough way to end her character on... But then when you take into account that she also participated in the 5 year plan, and there is nothing to suggest she kept in touch with him more than the rest, just makes it so much worse.

I have said before that with this ending, Uraraka's love story was an objective waste of time, and i stand by that.

Hori didnt have to end the series with Izuku and Urarak married, engaged or obviously in a relationship, but by refused to actually make it happen, and lumping Uraraka in with the entire rest of the class, he instead did something way worse.

He made it abundantly clear that regardless of what Uraraka's feelings on the matter, the relationship to Izuku was not something special. She was NOT his Hero in the moment when he actually needed one.

Neither as a friend, or as a love interest.

Her actions tainted everything else.

And of course, there is the big plot hole of this chapter.

The single biggest, and most obvious hole that is just gaping through it, that for this story to work you have to completely ignore.

Namely that 1. All Might is one of the richest peoples in the world. Class A should not have had to actually fund Izuku's suit. All Might could, and SHOULD have done that all on his own. and 2. That this tech EXISTED 8 YEARS AGO!!!!

All Might's armored suit made him one of the most powerfull figures in this entire series.

Sure it was a bit experimental, but it WORKED! it was not some unstable prototype that coudl explode at any moment, it would have worked just fine as an actual permanent power up!

For this entire stupid 5 years of Sidelines Izuku to work, you have to just PRETEND this massive hole does not exist.

And it's not a small hole that you can justify that the characters didnt think about it. It's there, and it's MASSIVE.

The only reason it's not talked about as much as all the rest is that while this is the big Material problem of this chapter, everything else is so much worse because it attacks, destroys, and taints pretty much every theme MHA had over the course of it's long run.

---Edit---

Apparently there is a throw away line in the Trivia section of Volume 39 that All Might apparently spent almost his entire fortune on his Mech suit.

Meaning that while this isn't quite the plothole I assumed it was, it IS still TERRIBLY communicated within the story itself why All Might didn't just fund Izuku's suit themselves.

---

The themes that more than anything else was what set it apart from every other battle manga that ever existed. The Human themes of actually talking to the people around you that made MHA a special story, far more than it's superhuman battles ever did.

That is why so many people are pissed off about it.

It's also why MHA is such a textbook example of how NOT to do an open ended story.

Hori could have kept the details about Izuku's life, be it his personal or proffesional life incredibly vague, beyond the basics... but he choose not to, and instead peeled back the curtain... but rather than showcasing depth, it just made the whole thing fall apart by giving us the specific details that we did not need, and which pretty much tainted the entire ending down to it's core... All completely unintentionally.

He didnt have to show that Izuku had NO specific remaining bonds with any single members Class A that were still more important to him than the rest.

But he did.

He didnt have to go out of his way to show that Izuku was completely forgotten by society at large.

But he did, and subsequentially did not actually choose to explore that.

He didnt have to show us deep, long, internal monologues from izuku's perspective where he is cartoonishly at ease with his lot in life.

But he did.

He was too specific and detailed about the things he NEEDED to keep vague, and not specific about the details that we actually needed to know, and so it all collapses in on itself in a mess of broken Themes and morals, and shattered logic, and above all else, he managed to carelessly and unintentionally cheapen every single relationship Izuku formed with the rest of his classmates over the course of this story.

[waldau-archived]

wanna be yours — chwe hansol | 2,208 words | fluff

i'm asexual as fuck (the irony) but friends with benefits to lovers is a delicious trope i would love to see more of. title from i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys.

gender neutral reader. college!au. warnings: mentions of sex but no actual descriptions of anything. also reader is mentioned not to like coffee, because i dislike coffee. soz <3

the last person you expected to see tonight was chwe vernon, dressed in his usual bomber jacket and slacks. yet here he is, crashing into the empty place on the sofa next to you. he doesn't say a word, simply squeezes his eyes shut and throws a hand over his eyes. dino keeps talking like there's been no interruption, but you're hyperaware of the way your legs are almost touching.

you and vernon didn't really run in the same circles before you got together, so it is odd to see him here amidst all of your friends.

"hey," you say, ducking down so you don't disturb the others.

"hurts," he says back, pressing his face into your shoulder. you look around, but no one really seems to be paying attention to you, some of them engrossed in beer pong and the others making idle conversation.

"what does?"

"my...head."

you wince in sympathy. "drank a lot?"

he shakes his head. "not that much. but i can't find seungkwan, and he has the keys to our dorm."

"so you decided to find...me?"

"better you than anyone else."

you don't respond to that, and you can tell by the way his head grows heavier on your shoulder within the next few minutes means he's asleep.

the first few months of your relationship with vernon were based solely on sex. it's the usual story — you met at another of minghao's parties (really, a catalyst for trouble), and hit it off surprisingly well with vernon. there was something you saw between you both and following it ended up with you in his bedroom.

when it was time for you to leave, it somehow didn't feel awkward. so you decided to test the arrangement another time. and another. and it's led you to whatever you have now, which is arguably more complicated than a normal relationship.

for starters, the past few weeks vernon's been visiting your dorm haven't been about sex. no, you've had actual arguments about which lord of the rings movie is the best and why shrek deserves yet another sequel. you've even baked with him, for heaven's sake (which ended not so well).

it's been less about sex and more about you fighting the urge to cuddle vernon when he throws an arm over your shoulder, or when he shares his blanket with you when you're feeling cold (which happens to be your blanket in the first place).

long story short, you like him, and he makes you feel some type of way you can't possibly let him know.

vernon twitches a bit when you pick up your cup from the table, toying with it but not actually drinking from it. you rest your hand on his thigh, hoping he doesn't wake up, while you contribute to the conversation every now and then. you pointedly ignore the looks dino's giving you.

this means nothing. vernon only found you because he knows you the most out of everyone here. he'd be in his own place by now if he'd found seungkwan.

still, there's something about the fact that he trusts you enough to fall asleep on you in front of people he's not entirely familiar with. that has to count for something, right?

people keep entering and leaving the room as the party goes on into the night. when the person next to you gets up to leave, you shift a bit down the sofa and pull vernon's head into your lap so his neck doesn't hurt when he wakes up. dino asks if he should wait for you before he leaves, but you make him go. it's not often you get to be like this with vernon, and you'd much rather he got back in one piece.

it's only when your back twinges and the music begins dying down and you remember you have an essay due next week you haven't begun working on that you decide to wake him up. you look down at the boy in your lap. he looks so much at ease, face devoid of the frown he sports every now and then. you feel almost guilty waking him up.

"vernon," you say, pushing his shoulder. "get up, both of us need to sleep."

vernon blinks his eyes open slowly. "wha'?"

"you. me. sleep. now."

"you want to sleep together? now?"

you trip on your words. "that's not what— i just need my sleep, sol." you bite your tongue at the name that slips out of your mouth. he doesn't mind his close friends calling him that, but you don't think you're there. or you'll ever get there.

"oh," he says, pushing himself up to sit.

"feeling better?"

"much," he says, running a hand through his hair. "but i had to tell you something, actually." he looks shifty. that gets your attention — vernon is many things, but he's never hesitant.

"i, um. i think we should stop seeing each other."

that shocks you the way falling into an icy cold pool would, the water taking no time to permeate your clothes and sting your skin with the cold and rendering you somewhat unable to breathe when it finally hits. "i'm sorry?"

"i said, i think we should stop seeing each other. not that the sex was bad," he says hastily, and you wince. that's a weird thing to say. "no, really. it's been great. it's just...i like someone, like, actually like them, and i feel being in this relationship would be weird."

you can't resist. "do i know them?"

vernon meets your eyes briefly before they dart away to the blank television screen in front of you. "i guess you could say that."

you rack your brains for who it could be. some names pop up in your mind: a girl from his friend group you've spoken to a few times, another from the library, the guy in english lit — but none of them shine as the number one contender for his affections.

you're one of the few close friends vernon has, but it doesn't matter. of course he wouldn't like you like that.

"fine," you say, feeling anything but. "okay."

vernon's looking at you like you're an injured puppy.

"i hope you get with whoever it is," you say, aware you sound a bit snappish, but you don't care. it's not your fault for liking someone as brilliant as vernon, only to be reminded that he doesn't really like you back. you're certain he likes your body more than he likes you, anyway.

"that's it?"

"what?"

"you're fine with it? just like that?"

you frown. "i'm not going to stop you if you want to go. we're not together. you should be with someone you really like."

"sweetheart..."

you shudder at the nickname that falls from his lips. you always like hearing it, more so the fact that vernon says it unconsciously. but now it sounds like a nail scraping against a chalkboard. you're not the sweetheart he wants. "i have a couple of classes in the morning."

"wait. it's a saturday."

"so?"

"we don't have classes on saturdays."

"yeah, well, that's you," you say, pulling out your phone to check the time. it's much later than you expected it to be. "dino's in the lab on weekends and i promised to help him out this time."

"listen—"

"i'll be glad if you let me go, vernon. i shouldn't have stayed this late in the first place."

"why are you acting so weirdly?"

you look up to see him frowning at you. why are you acting so weird, huh?

"i'm not. i just— i don't have to justify anything to you." you know you're being ruder than the situation calls for, but vernon is one of a kind. he'd taken to you despite the fact that you weren't one of the "popular" ones when you started out, and you'd managed to find a lot of common ground with him.

but the fact that you thought he'd like you back was stupidity on your part. you curse dino for hinting vernon might like you back.

"i'm sorry," you say, resting a hand on vernon's arm for a moment. he moves back at the touch and your stomach sinks even further. "i'm sorry this didn't work out. i hope you get with whoever you like. i'm just...tired. a bit. i hope this doesn't mean we'll...stop being friends?" it's a stupid thing to ask, but it's your last resort.

"i would," vernon says, crossing his arms, "if they weren't so dense."

"what?"

"i'd love to get with them if they realized i don't call anyone else sweetheart."

you freeze. you become aware of the people still present in the room, someone laughing, bottles clinking, bass still thumping, but— sweetheart?

"what are you trying to say, vernon?" you ask, making your voice as steady as possible.

"i'm trying to say that the person i want to get with doesn't really understand what flirting is."

you almost drop your phone. "no. vernon, you're not doing this. you don't mean it."

"i do."

"vern—"

"i'm not drunk anymore, see? and i do mean it. i don't just want us to be friends with benefits. i want us to be more. i want to take you out to dinner and stay up hearing you talk about why freud is the worst person you've ever had to read about. i want to watch whatever the heck it is you like. i want to date you. if you want me to, that is."

you're more surprised at how lucidly he's speaking, without a pause, more than what he's saying. but the meaning of his words slams into you like a tidal wave hardly a minute later. "if i want to, he says," you laugh helplessly.

vernon raises a perfect eyebrow. "well?"

you sigh and fiddle with your phone cover. "i don't— i've never been in a real relationship. not a long term one."

vernon moves closer to you, your knees now pressed against each other despite the fact that there's no one else on the sofa you're sharing. you can't even bring yourself to care about all the other people in the room. "really?"

you nod, feeling a strange sense of embarrassment creep up your neck. vernon simply lays a hand on your thigh. "hey. you know that's not a bad thing, right?"

you shrug.

"it's not," he repeats, rubbing his thumb across your knee. "and it doesn't bother me. is that what's troubling you?"

you shake your head. "you're just...the first person to want to be with me, even if it's just for sex."

"hey, it hasn't been all for sex. what about all those movie marathons we had? and that one time i helped you bake a cake for jun?"

"you mean you tried?"

vernon flicks your forehead, but moves in immediately to kiss it. the slight touch has you burning up, and you pray he doesn't feel it. "yeah. tried. but that's the thing, isn't it? it wasn't always about the sex for me. was it...the same for you?"

you can't get yourself to lie now. "it was," you say, putting your phone down and taking his free hand, fiddling with his fingers. "it is. i didn't mean to clam up like that. it's just...i want this with you, too, vernon. i've spent so long thinking about it. i'm sorry."

vernon sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "don't apologize, sweetheart. and it's a relief. i've never felt this way with anyone before. also, i've only had a couple of flings before you, but i really want this to go somewhere. and i want to try it with you."

you try to speak, but nothing comes out. you bury your face in your hands. "aren't you supposed to be drunk?" you ask.

"you always sober me up, sweetheart."

you shake your head and let it fall against the back of the sofa, vernon's hand cushioning the fall. there's silence for a while before he speaks.

"you know, no one's like that."

"like what?" you ask, slightly affronted. "is that supposed to be an insult or a pick-up line?"

vernon laughs a breathy laugh. "no friend with benefits offers to look after their partner when they're bored or drunk or whatever. and they certainly don't show up to basement music shows. you're...really the only person who gets me, you know? but now that i know you, like, really like me..."

"like you back."

you love his grin. "can i take you out on a date?"

"i...don't drink coffee," you say breathlessly.

vernon raises an eyebrow.

"milkshakes. or i could drink coffee, maybe. you like it, so i can try."

"there. again. you're too nice for your own good."

"it's just...me. i can't help— mmph," you get cut off when vernon leans down and presses a kiss to your lips. and another. you push him away before someone notices and teases you.

"i'm going to get some sleep, and we'll meet tomorrow. at a good place. not in my bed."

"you mean today."

"do you want me to cancel on you?"

"no," vernon laughs against your hair. "tomorrow. anything you want."

[alpaca-clouds]

Hayao Miyazaki & Solarpunk

Hayao Miyazaki probably never planned to become this super influential voice for Solarpunk. He did become it though. In fact a lot of his movies are considered to be Solarpunk to some degree, which in a way does make a lot of sense. After all, not only does he generally feature stories about preserving the environment, and stories that are very much anti-war and often also anti-capitalist, but - and I think this is something often ignores - he also is heavily influenced by indigenous Japanese storytelling. There are very few creatives in Japan that outright reference the indigenous cultures of Japan - but Hayao Miyazaki is one of them.

The strongest Solarpunk vibes in his movies can obviously be found with Nausicaä, and with Princess Mononoke. One a post-apocalyptic movie, the other one a historical fantasy piece, which makes this entire thing even more interesting. Laputa, too, is often seen as Solarpunk - a story that is pretty much high fantasy with some scifi elements. And I would argue that you still very much can find Solarpunk themes in both Spirited Away and My Neighbour Totoro.

Not one of those movies is SciFi. And I very much find this worthy of discussing, because I think it is one of those aspects where a lot of people who would like to write something more Solarpunk could learn from.

One point that cannot be ignored is of course that Miyazaki aside from traditional and indigenous Japanese storytelling also drew heavy influence from Ursula K. LeGuin in some of his works - who also is one of the big influences on Solarpunk. And yes, there might be some essay of mine about LeGuin coming some day in the future - but not too soon.

From the very beginning of Studio Ghibli at least, Miyazaki's movies always had a heavy emphasis on some themes. These included feminism (by showing both women who can fight, and the importance of care work done by women), anti-war and pacifism, and environmentalism.

It should be noted that very much no Miyazaki movie is set in an utopia. Instead the movies are concerned with the idea of finding solutions for the characters - and with the characters empowering themselves.

Nausicaä and Princess Mononoke might be the clearest examples here. In both movies the protagonists take the role of creating peace between nature and those, trying to destroy it. However this ending is never quite a compromise, rather than the destroyers seeing that they are doing wrong and promising to do better. Which is another core thing that is there in most of Miyazaki's movies: They show a big hope for humanity and its ability to be good. Only rarely are we shown irredeemable villains in those movies - most of the times just people blinded by their lust for money and power. Or, at times, there is simply the problem that the two different sides can literally not understand each other.

This is a theme that gets explored again and again. How so many conflicts are rooted in the different sides not communicating - or at times literally being unable to communicate. With the protagonists being the ones who will be able to listen and understand.

The other aspect is that the protagonist in Miyazaki's movies also will empower themselves, while the antagonists do try and depower them. The protagonists have their own wishes and believes and stay true to them. They will also manage to succeed by befriending other people they meet along their way, by meeting them without any prejudice in many cases. Be it Ashitaka, who meets both the gods and the people of Iron Town without hatred, or be it Chihiro, who manages to befriend almost everyone she meets along her way.

The important aspect is, that the movies here offer a hopeful outlook and also show the importance of helping each other and banding up against a greater evil. In fact they do show a heavy emphasis on Mutual Aid in some interesting ways.

Here is the thing: Yes, I really want to see more Solarpunk fiction that is set in possible, but really positive Solarpunk worlds that dare to imagine anarchist and communist worlds. But we absolutely need these kinds of stories. Stories that are about the fight for the environment, for a better word. Stories in which the characters do offer mutual aid to others, work together and find understanding. And stories in which there can be hope found.

And I think we just need to give this more of a chance - and talk more about it.

[amerricanartwork]

I saw your lilypad art post, and I got curious: why do you enjoy lilypad? it's not a common RW ship, so I'd be interesting to hear what about it you enjoy!

Hear me out, guys... I must explain myself before I get onto the Lilypad essay.

I made that original comment because, at the time, I wanted to just get the aforementioned headcanons out as soon as possible. Understand, my reluctance wasn't because I didn't want to talk about Lilypad, but rather the exact opposite: I had so many feelings about it, yet had put so little effort into expressing them in a coherent, presentable format that I just knew it'd distract me for the next week or two if I let it rent too much space in my conscious thoughts. But now that little comment has left me with several people asking me to share those thoughts, and, both thankfully and unfortunately, I simply can't resist indulging in thoughts about the characters I love—!

Keep in mind, I haven’t finished Saint campaign yet, and even then I’ve found like less than half the broadcasts in Spearmaster campaign yet, so there’s likely some extra canon info I may be missing that could add to or change some of what I say here. I also apologize if some of what I write here seems really out-of-character. I try not to let my passion for my little headcanons and scenarios make me disregard the canon, but even so, I might slip and think up some weird things occasionally. Nonetheless, I feel like I’ve got enough of the picture to start confidently enjoying this ship, so I’ll talk about it anyway! 

As always, feel free to add to these ideas if you can! Without further delay, enjoy this 3381-word essay, with a few initial headcanons sprinkled in, on why I adore Lilypad!

Oh, and just in case, if you couldn’t already tell, major Hunter campaign spoilers below.

Quetzalli on Loving Lilypad

I’m gonna start this out with a preface: I can generally find the appeal in a lot of different ships and the art other fans make for them, but for me to ship something enough to actively draw it and make my own headcanons about it and such (outside of, perhaps, gifts for other people), it usually has to contain a variety of “ship tropes” that I personally fancy. Many of my most-favorite ship tropes tend to be the ones that aren’t just cute, but that carry narrative significance and seem poetic in some way, usually because they can facilitate character arcs in the involved characters. The more of these a ship has, or the more ship tropes I can portray it with without it seeming too out-of-character, and the more I like those specific tropes, the better. This principle is a major reason why I’ve gravitated towards Artimand as my main slugcat ship, but for now, I’m going to focus on which of these I see in Lilypad — in canon content, other fan-portrayals, and my personal headcanons — that, as opposed to other iterator ships, has currently won me over.

I’m gonna describe the main general things I like seeing in this ship. Some of them are more due to fandom portrayals than what’s in the canon, but they all play a big role in my current love for Lilypad. 

Synergy

I’ll begin with how I really appreciate just how much synergy Looks to the Moon and No Significant Harassment are shown to have, at least in fan content! I always like seeing pairings where the characters aren’t just romantic, but also work really well together as a team or even just as friends. After all, just because the characters may be romantically in love doesn’t mean they must only show it in explicitly romantic ways. To me, Lilypad strikes me as a relationship where Sig and Moon would make an amazing team in many aspects of their lives, whether it's collaborating on projects, sharing their interests, or trying to maintain order in the rest of their group. And their compliment is just really sweet to me, though I’ll get to that later.

A Shoulder to Lean On/The Lady

One of my favorite ship tropes is “character with a lot of weight on their shoulder who finally gets to lift it off and be ‘normal’ for once when around the other”. I’ve always found it sweet when characters like this, especially ones who are normally very selfless, finally get a chance to indulge and enjoy themselves for once! And once again, this is another thing I imagine in Artimand too, and you could project this onto Trafficlights given Suns’s implied high status, but I think it works especially with Lilypad, given Moon’s role as group senior means she objectively has a lot to manage all the time with no permanent escape from it. Even beyond the whole Five Pebbles rot drama, Moon probably had a lot on her plate just in terms of maintaining order between the rest of the group and setting a good example to the younger generations, especially as the group expanded over time, not to mention trying to find the solution herself. Combine this with how I picture her to be the kind of person who cares a lot about her image as a “proper” and  “dignified” leader, and someone who often sacrifices her own desires to promote the group’s welfare, I just find it really soft for her to have someone to lean on, metaphorically (and in a worm-off-the-string scenario, literally), and who better to go to than her best teammate, who knows the power of a good laugh and will stop at nothing to have fun with those he loves? Not to mention, since I headcanon Sig as slightly younger than Moon (2nd gen, specifically), I just find it rather cute in an ironic sense that the older, more serious Moon is soft around the younger, far more chaotic Sig, especially as Moon would go through the realization that she actually kinda likes this little troublemaker! 

This also comes back to something I mentioned in the tags of that beepsnort post, which is that one of my other favorite ship tropes is “guy who loves/is good at making people laugh x girl who has a REALLY weird/embarrassing laugh”, and that just works so well with Lilypad! It’s admittedly a very headcanon-based thing for me, but given how I’ve already explained my perception of Moon as very proper and serious, I imagine one of the best ways Sig takes the weight off her shoulders is by being the only person who can consistently make her laugh so hard! And with the beepsnort headcanon it’s even cuter, because of course Moon would be super embarrassed every time she even so much as gives a half-chuckle at one of his jokes, because Sig is relentless when it comes to getting the giggles out of her, and he won’t stop until she’s rolling and shaking on the floor of her chamber, her beepy-snorts filling the room! My GODDD I love this trope so much, and for beings who are inherently such workaholics, I think getting to genuinely relax and have fun for a bit, once she gets over the initial shock and embarrassment, would be something Moon would really come to value.

Inverses Attract/The Tramp

I’ve mentioned it in my last Artimand headcanons post, but one of my absolute all-time favorite ship tropes is the classic “opposites attract”, although I prefer the name “inverses attract”. As I like to portray it, the trope not only involves characters who are opposites personality-wise, but those being opposites of the same core aspect, and ultimately helping balance each other out by offering the other half of the equation to each other (hence the name “inverses”). The trope I just wrote about above is how Sig helps Moon to relax and have fun, but as I try to do with all ships, how does it work the other way too? Well, I really like to imagine Sig learning to be more openly serious and dedicated! Don’t get me wrong, Sig is a hard worker (it’s pretty much the nature of all iterators), but given he seems to pretty strongly reject the quest for the Triple Affirmative, I imagine the next problem would be in him finding a new purpose to strive for. And what better new purpose than in standing by and protecting the group senior he thinks he just might wanna be more than friends with?

It already works because Moon, of course, would work to keep Sig in check and make sure he doesn’t go too overboard with his shenanigans. But just imagine how inspired he’d grow over time seeing Moon work so hard to keep the group together and keep them striving for their purpose, even if he doesn’t agree with it. I imagine it’s why Sig’s methods are still rather controlled rather than purely chaotic, and there’s a reason to his rebellion. Thanks to Moon, rather than slaving away at a seemingly impossible solution until his mind collapses with his structure, he’ll use his talents to, at the very least, keep the local group together as long as possible, because even if they’ll all be gone one day, that doesn’t mean they have to go alone!

It’s why I’m also labeling these two tropes together as “the Lady and the Tramp”, yet another ship dynamic that gets me every time! It’s a specific instance of “inverses attract” where the noble, proper lady finds a taste of freedom and courage from the dangerously charming tramp, who from her finds a new sense of purpose and honor! And in my opinion, Lilypad is most definitely the best opportunity for this dynamic among Rain World ships!

The Fated Couple

Slow-burn couples seem to be pretty popular in many fandoms, but what about a really slow-burn? There’s something just so romantic to me about the idea that Moon and Sig, from the moment they met, have always just clicked so perfectly, and have been by each other’s side so constantly ever since, to the point it seems practically inevitable to everyone (except them of course) that they’ll eventually get together romantically. Of course, there are two main roadblocks to their romance being 1.) their whole objective and purpose for being created is kind-of fundamentally opposed to strong attachments like love (I mean, if Karma 3 is Companionship, wouldn’t romantic love be considered the worst example of that?), and 2.) even if they did reject this purpose, being massive immovable structures with the only humanoid part stuck deep inside a box, a budding romance seemingly couldn’t really go anywhere anyway. In fact, because of these roadblocks much of my Lilypad imaginings take place in the ever-popular “worm-off-the-string” scenario, especially since the next couple of reasons for why I like the ship play a lot into the themes I like to incorporate in this story concept. 

However, these issues towards such a romance are also what make it so sweet in the end! Just think of Moon, alone in her chamber, beginning to worry about how she’s actually kinda sorta, maybe, hypothetically, possibly, just a little bit starting to like the carefree and charismatic Gen 2 in the local group as even more than just a work partner and a dear friend, but oh no, that’s indulging in a Karmic Sin, and as group senior she can’t just throw away their purpose like that and set such a bad example to the rest! What’s she gonna do?? And then on the other side, Sig puzzling in his chamber, pining so hard for the group senior yet seemingly unable to confess, because, even disregarding Karma 3 and the fact that giant immobile calculators aren’t about to be snuggling any time soon, why would someone as perfect and powerful as her want someone like him, so dismissive of their core purpose and unorthodox in his methods? Is there even a point in having these feelings at all, when they might very well end up simply fading to dust along with the rest of his structure?

Maybe, they both think, it’d be better to just keep these feelings to themselves and quietly love from a distance. That is, until…

Moon’s Collapse and the Slag Reset Keys

The fourth reason is, of course, the most steeped in canon. It goes back a bit to the “shoulder to lean on” concept, but even aside from that, there is something just so romantic about this on both sides.

Firstly, from Moon’s perspective. There’s no doubt that the collapse must have been very traumatic for Looks to the Moon physically, but I like to think about just how much it’d affect her emotionally, too. I mean, being so painfully destroyed by your own brother, with seemingly nothing that can be done to stop it and no one to help you? And then consider how lonely it must have been in her final moments. The only comfort she does get is from Spearmaster’s visit, and even then she sends him off to go deliver her final words, which has still got to be really depressing. And finally, think about how betrayed she must have felt, trying so hard throughout her operation to help her citizens and the local group and be kind to everyone, only to have it be repaid like this, forced to collapse in on herself, being buried under her own body, unfathomable pain all around, and with not a soul to help her.

So then, think about just how shocking and heartwarming (literally, if you think about it) it must be when that lovable Gen 2, always so playful and carefree normally, is the one to give her a second chance and being her back when all hope seems lost, and using such a unique delivery method no less! I mean COME ON, Sig literally brought her back to life, how could one NOT fall in love with someone who did that for them? It links back to the “shoulder to lean on” idea, in that, for once, someone finally looked out for Moon and gave back to her for all the kindness she gave to the world. Think about this as the moment she truly realizes she’s in love with No Significant Harassment, and how tragic it’d be knowing now, it’s too late to say it. But, even so, if he’s willing to go this far to make sure she’s okay, then maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance her love at least wasn’t alone.

Now, my thoughts about this from No Significant Harassment’s side (which also kinda turned into a mini NSH appreciation paragraph that links back to the earlier Inverses Attract and Lady and the Tramp segment), I think it’s very poetic to see him going out of his way to take his messenger concept, originally used for no more than a trivial prank and at most a very experimental and unfinished alternative communication method, and turning it into a noble last-ditch effort to rescue the one he loves. It doesn’t just clearly show how much he cares for Moon that he worked to save her when no one else did (and if that’s because the odds of being able to do anything seemed very low to the rest of them, that makes it even more sweet) I think it shows off a lot of Sig’s character beyond just being a jokester. Like, I’d seen this kind of personality for Sig in the fandom content before, but this action and the other broadcasts are what first made me truly realize not just that it is based in canon, but that, more importantly he’s not just stupid or unfocused, he’s rebellious. He doesn’t joke around because he just doesn’t care, it’s because he’s independent, he’s got other places he wants to go and plans that don’t fit into what most of his peers are used to. He makes light of the world because he sees what others don’t, and it’s honestly pretty frickin’ funny how blind others can be most of the time (case-in-point: him making a slugcat from a messenger, which no one else thought to do because those creatures seemed too “dull” and “primitive” to ever be capable of such a thing). So think about how significant it must be when he’s openly taking something seriously. This is where that dynamic of the Tramp, and how Sig would benefit from this relationship is really highlighted. I just adore it when the easygoing, carefree character finally finds purpose in their lover, and springs into serious action like they never were before! And it makes sense too given what I said about them not getting together before: seeing Moon collapse would show him directly that even beings as durable as iterators don’t last forever, so if he’s got these feelings for Moon, he’s got to make a move while there’s still a chance! And what better way to show his love than to bring her back when all hope seems lost? Which brings me to the final aspects I’ll talk about here, first of which is…

True Love’s Kiss

Yes, you read that right. The real reason I love the slag reset keys as a plot element so much is not just because it shows Sig’s secret strength of character, not just because it finally gives reward to Moon’s kindness, but because it is a real fairytale come true! 

I know this sounds crazy and probably totally unrelated to Rain World, but think about it! You guys have probably seen Snow White and Sleeping Beauty before, or at least one of the two? Isn’t the whole trope that the beautiful princess, fairest maiden in the land, gets cursed through some means or another to die (or in Aurora’s case, fall into an indefinite sleep), which is only undone when the strong and brave prince, riding upon his noble steed, awakens the princess by giving her true love’s kiss? I already love both those movies on their own for various other reasons, but after my description, is this starting to sound familiar in another way?

I mean, with everything I’ve said about Moon in this post so far, there’s no doubt you could perceive her as the “fair princess”, who through unfortunate circumstances is put to a premature and indefinite death. And there’s no doubt Sig fills the role of the brave prince by working to save her with the slag reset keys, which in this metaphor are undoubtedly the “true love’s kiss” that ultimately conquers all, always longed for, and finally delivered! And hey, given Hunter is the one to carry the keys to Moon, a small yet courageous beast who stops at nothing to meet his goals, Sig even has his own “noble steed”! And even if Hunter is technically the one to actually deliver the green neuron, and the death the “princess” succumbs to wasn’t out of genuine malice towards her, I think the sentiment is still there and the parallel is close enough! 

But yes, as strange as it may sound, the fairytale parallel is the main reason Lilypad resonates with me so much! Those classic fairytale-esque romance tropes and that poetic storytelling found in Disney’s first feature-length animated films has always been dear to my heart, and is even more so now that I’m older and can truly appreciate the beauty of them. So now, even in my fandom experiences, ships that win my appreciation over all others are often those that manage to embody those classic romance tropes and themes as best as possible, and frankly, even Artimand loses ever-so-slightly to Lilypad in this regard! Or, as I also enjoy calling them, “Lifeline”, for reasons that are probably obvious now. 

And it’s even better when you consider…

Some Things Never Change

Another trope I’ve recently begun to love is the idea that some phenomena in the world never truly disappear, but simply manifest in different ways, sometimes unexpected ones. And given the whole Triple Affirmative quest and the Ancients’ mass ascension philosophy, this idea is something I especially love seeing in Rain World content. Even the canon events show this idea, but think about how wonderfully it would work with Lilypad beyond just the slag reset keys, especially taking up that “worm off the string” iterator AU concept some have explored in this fandom already.

Just think about how sweet it would be when Moon and Sig, operating primarily through their puppets now, get to finally hug and kiss and be with each other so directly now! Think of the way Sig would speak to Moon about how, even after her collapse, she's still somehow beautiful as ever, and Moon returning with how even all the trouble the group has faced hasn't put a dent in his charm! And it's even sweeter when you consider it’s against everything their creators stood for! Think of Moon, after everything she’s been through and how much she’s probably changed at this point, now willing to give some of these “worldly attachments” a chance, because you can never truly get rid of them, but she knows better than anyone that you won’t be around to experience them forever, so why not enjoy it while you’ve got the chance? And it’d make sense too, not just for her own benefit, but for Pebbles and the rest of the group’s sake too! She’s always strove to set a good example for them, and since their original quest has left them with nothing but pain and trauma, why not show them that maybe all these attachments aren’t so bad after all?

I just think it’d be really interesting to see Moon joining Sig in that rejection of the Triple Affirmative, and what better way to do that than by finally embracing that love they’ve felt for each other for so long? Because love never truly dies, it just appears in new people. And maybe they don’t have to spend their whole lives as grand iterators, the vast infinitely-advanced mechanical deities who embody perfection in almost every way. Maybe, even just for a bit, they can just be people, falling in love just as their creators did all over again!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

And with that, I think I’m FINALLY done here. HOLY COW, this is easily my longest post yet, and I hope it doesn’t disappoint! Part of the reason it took so long was because I was trying to find the perfect way to express all these ideas without it just spilling out onto the page in some weird half-coherent mess. But eventually I just said “ah screw it, let’s just ramble about this ship and see where it goes!” and my god, did it go far! And I still managed to somewhat organize it, so yay!

But aside from that, thank you SO MUCH to everyone who asked for my thoughts on Lilypad, and everyone who made it to the bottom of this essay! I’ve never really gotten a chance to openly ramble about one of my favorite ships to the rest of the fandom like this, so seeing that some fans, even if it’s ultimately not a huge amount, actually wanted me to do it was such a welcome surprise!

I hope you all enjoyed the drawings and the art! I’ll be around in case someone wants me to write another ship essay or something! And who knows, it’s likely I’ll find more reasons I like Lilypad as time goes on and I see more fan-content and find the rest of those broadcasts! But at least this was a starting point! 

Expect more LIlypad content to come in the future, but until now, thanks again for the opportunity!

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

Wounds Of The Past

A week following his and his young lover's little getaway in pursuit of tenderness, Aesop Sharp finds the pain in his leg, the one that he'd been used to for more than ten years now, lessening...

I would be lost without my dear partner in crime co-author and consultant @tea-withjamandbread, as well as Maarty and her unwavering support ❤

Wounds Of The Past (14.3k)

tw: teacher-student relationship, age gap (reader is an adult), sexual themes (mentioned and alluded to), tooth-rotting fluff

It began in a flurry of shards and bright green liquid staining the floor of his classroom.

Aesop Sharp stared at the mess he made morosely - what a waste of a perfectly good phial of Wiggenweld potion. With a small huff, he waved his wand in the air lazily, and both the broken bottle and its previous contents vanished into thin air. 

It was a day like any other for the teacher. Well, a day like any other lately, that is. A mere year ago, his life was drastically different. Alright, maybe not so drastically - just like the previous years, Aesop taught potions at Hogwarts, he regularly got exasperated by the lack of quick wit and good judgement from his many students as well as his employer, he praised rather sporadically, but always truthfully and fairly, he spent time with his friends and colleagues, stayed up long into the night grading essays and pop quizzes, and brewed medical remedies for the Hospital wing. Which is what he was doing right now as well, actually.

And yet, there was one big change, and in Aesop’s eyes (but what’s more, in his heart), the change was so large and significant, the teacher felt like his entire life on this Earth was suddenly all new and exciting, and as spectacular as it was when he was a fresh adult with an idiotic amount of courage and all the doors wide open and inviting. 

His heart burned with love.

That’s what it felt like at least. 

A year ago, he was just beginning to feel the effects of one very special young Ravenclaw’s presence around him, and after many many months, during which Aesop’s heart bled because he knew that she’d never return the feelings he held for her, it turned out he was very wrong. Christmas Eve of 1892 was the first evening they spent not only in one another’s company, but also each other’s arms, lips hungrily chasing their counterparts for yet another, and another, and another scorching kiss. 

The following few months only further proved that this little clandestine romance of theirs was no silly infatuation or some mere temporary absence of sense and reason. Each kiss, each ardent embrace, each and every night spent talking in hushed tones within the comfort of one another’s warmth and the security of their arms, all of it made Aesop feel a sense of belonging he hadn’t experienced in decades. So yes, his heart did indeed burn with love, and it burned with the ferocity of the Fiendfyre spell, making him feel so warm and alive, he still occasionally worried about waking up one morning to find it had all been just one big dream.

And the previous weekend? Well… Aesop wasn’t able to keep a sly little smile off his face when he remembered the weekend… It had been nearly embarrassingly long since he was able to make love to a woman like he made love to his pretty young Ravenclaw. The several one-night sexual encounters he had a few years ago weren’t exactly satisfactory for Aesop in this regard. Of course, he was ever the perfect gentleman and both he and his partner, whatever any of their names was, experienced the pleasure and its sweet culmination during their short encounter. However, this pleasure was always short lived, and Aesop soon found emptiness and coldness replacing the previous passion. While his younger self had no problem changing women with the frequency with which he changed his socks, and grin while doing so, it would appear his current self was no longer interested in empty promises said in the heat of the moment, soon to be replaced by awkward goodbyes and lonely journeys back home. And so he stopped seeking out the comforts and joys of a woman’s arms. Whenever the appetite came, the potions master would simply chase it away with a cold shower, or indulge in the familiar, if lonely, comfort of his hand - no need to drag some poor woman into it and risk accidentally hurting her feelings, he thought.

To be honest, Aesop was sure that this was just how he’ll spend the rest of his life. Pointlessly chasing after the cure for his leg, as well as after students he often presumed positively suicidal, instead of doing the thing his friends and mother implored him to do so very often; Fall in love, be happy. Two goals he presumed to be out of his reach entirely.

But now he was both. And to those who knew him closely, it was, of course, absolutely obvious. And while a part of Aesop was frankly cringing at how transparent the former rather brilliant Auror had become in his joy, the majority of him was so high on this almost new feeling that he often couldn’t find it within himself to care.

How could he, when the memories of the weekend spent with his young sweetheart were this fresh in his memory? 

Hands carefully exploring the other’s heated body, mapping out each new uncovered inch as if it was a wonderful new land, full of various beauties and intricacies, freckles and beauty marks, scars, proofs of a life lived, lips eagerly tasting the other’s skin, gliding in tantalising and hypnotising patterns, ones that left shivers and passion in their wake. Two bodies moving against each other, two hearts beating the same frenzied rhythm, oxygen intimately shared, and moans of pleasure cutting through the silence of the room, only ever occasionally replaced by urgent words of love and desire and accompanied by the deliciously filthy sounds of their union.

Aesop decided that it was the best weekend he had in years. Then again, this was something of his young lover’s habit; making him feel the happiest he’s been in years, that is.

Just the thought of her was able to stop him from continuing to stare at the floor where just short moments prior lay the spilled potion and broken glass. And Aesop suddenly remembered just how he managed to accidentally break the phial.

Having brewed and bottled another large batch of Wiggenweld potion for the hospital wing (which was always in high demand, as students seemed to be positively intent on maiming themselves on their brooms during Quidditch… or during Crossed Wands duels. Or during a simple potions lesson on Germinating potion turned utter catastrophe because someone was too dull to read that they were supposed to add knotgrass dew after they added the dried salamander skins rather than before... Or during a perfectly ordinary dinner at the Great Hall….), he automatically took a few phials in order to put them into his magically enlarged breast pocket. 

It was a simple muscle memory for him - he brewed, he took a few doses for his leg, he had the rest delivered, and by the time he brewed again, he only had one or two phials left on his person, the new potions sliding into the pocket with ease.

Not today.

The first phial did indeed slip in without a problem. The second one, however, made a soft glass clanking noise when he tried to store it away, making him aware his pocket, though much bigger on the inside, had become full. Aesop let go of it before he fully realised it though, and the small bottle slid down his chest and fell to the floor. A slightly cathartic sound of glass breaking penetrated the silence of the dungeons and that was that…

Aesop automatically leaned against the potions station he was just using (the one his sweetheart used too - it was the newest one in the castle, after all, and the most reliable one), the clogs in his head turning. Pushing his hand inside his breast pocket once more, he began pulling out the Wiggenwed potions there. Six, seven, eight! How in Merlin’s name did he have eight potions in his pocket after… goodness, when was it he last refilled it? It surely couldn’t have been after he returned to his rooms on the Sunday a week ago, could it? 

He had returned with his sweetheart in tow, sneaking by the ghosts roaming the castle while its living inhabitants feasted on their supper at the Great Hall, and managed to restrain himself from marking the official end to their little getaway before inadvertently having to return to their day-to-day lives at Hogwarts, unsure of how much time they’ll be allowed to spend together, until he made sure the stash of potions he had on his person was refilled for the following week. 

Aesop shook his head. The idea seemed implausible. He was well aware that he had consumed more than a single vial of Wiggenweld potion in the last week; after all, he kept a supply in the chest at the foot of his bed and habitually took doses in his office. Yet, the thought lingered: had there ever been a time when he used only one of the phials he actively carried with him?

Upon further reflection, he realised that despite his deep scepticism, there was irrefutable evidence that he had consumed less of the potion this week - by at least a third of his usual consumption. And it did make sense, in a way. It had been a good week, on no day did his leg act up and bind him to a seating position because of painful cramps restricting him from standing up, which usually happened every other week.

It was… unthinkable. New and a little unnerving. Despite being all alone in the large classroom, Aesop scoffed - for more than a decade, the thing he wanted the most in the world was for his leg to stop hurting, and now… Well, it was hurting still, but instead of the sharp pain that shot from his knee all the way into his hip, genuinely feeling like the bloody curse was burning into his femur and hip bone, there was this sort of strange dull ache that was more annoying than anything else. Almost like the pain one gets after they’ve been sitting in a strange position for an extended period of time, like the sort of pain one could simply shake off…

Of course, Aesop wasn’t as silly as to attempt to shake his leg, in fear that the movement could potentially bring the worse pain back instead of relieving this more bearable one. Still, his curiosity was more than peaked, and after he made sure a couple of house elves would come to collect the few crates of Wiggenweld potion he brewed, he retired into his chambers.

He occasionally delivered the potions himself - after all, the Hospital wing was very close to his rooms. This fact was especially convenient during his worst days, as Norreen didn’t have to run through half the castle to administer some stronger potions to him. Aesop preferred to leave those in her care, as he couldn't trust himself to resist the stronger, more addictive potions instead of the harmless Wiggenweld. However, these episodes of his happened very, very rarely these days, luckily. 

No, Aesop truly didn’t have the time to hand-deliver the potions himself and chat up Noreen for a bit right now, he needed to look at the notes he had on the experimental pain relieving potion he took during his and his sweetheart’s outing. A part of him knew that he went over those notes a hundred times while he was brewing, and then a hundred more before he tested the first batch on himself. A part of him knew there was no way the potion could be the thing relieving his pain even now, a week after ingestion. It simply wasn’t possible - the first batch he brewed lasted for several hours, but he could very much feel his blasted leg again the next day… Then, during the weekend, he did think it strange it was working even after he woke up, but he had hardly the time to concern himself with his research when he had a very beautiful young woman to enjoy the privacy with.

Right now though… right now he needed to know. He needed to find the answer.  So that he could repeat whatever it was he did that made his leg get better. 

And for the first time, he realised that he no longer wanted to do so for himself - he had lived with that pain for a decade, and, in a way, he very nearly made peace with it. Such could be seen when one took a look at his journals - the past few years, he didn’t go through them nearly as quickly as he used to in the beginning. 

But now… Now the very idea that he could be healthy again, that he’d be able to walk by his beloved’s side, unbothered by an undignified limp, standing tall and proud like he once did, made his heart thump loudly in his chest… If his leg stopped hurting, he’d at least feel a little more deserving of her love. Less guilty about taking the absolutely incredible creature his Ravenclaw was for himself, and himself only… 

The professor unlocked the door of his chambers and stepped inside, the comfort of the space instantly washing over him. These days he was quite tidier than he had been a couple of years ago, and he let the house elves clean his rooms regularly - his shelves, as it turned out, were much more organised and able to contain more things when there weren’t empty liquor bottles haphazardly hidden away in them. Aesop still indulged in a glass or two every now and then, but he made sure not to overindulge too much, and got rid of the empty bottles promptly. After all, he didn’t want the young woman to think she was seeing some drunken bum.

He made quick work of finding his latest notebook even though he had quite a few of them now. Each and every single one was filled from cover to cover, each experiment he conducted well documented, the script with the hypothesis starting off neat and organised, and ending with scrawly, short notes, as he was getting more and more frustrated he wasn’t getting the desired results. The conclusion was once more written neatly, simply explaining that yet another cure idea became an absolute flop. 

However, some of them ended on a hopeful note - in his efforts to discover a cure, Aesop accidentally found a different manner in which the potions could be used. Experimental cure #87 turned out to be quite a brilliant cure for sunstroke, and #114 he brewed regularly, as it helped with Bai’s hay fever every summer. And, of course, then there were the experimental brews that weren’t a cure for his leg, but rather little ideas to at the very least help with the pain somewhat. There was Experimental pain relief potion #12, which he’d occasionally add into his bath, as it helped not only with the pain in his leg, but also in his entire body - very useful after a long evening spent bent over ingredients he was preparing. Then herbal ointment #4, which warmed his leg up considerably, as well as made the scar upon his skin itself less sensitive to touch. Aesop found it curious that the scar on his cheek never really hurt after the skin healed, but he supposed that it was because his leg got the full force of the curse, and his cheek was later struck from recoil. And, of course, there was that one brew that started out as a pain relieving potion, and accidentally ended up being a herbal liquor. Oh well, it worked quite nicely as an aperitivo if nothing else, Aesop shrugged.

The potions master found one of the last pages and peered upon the page. Experimental cure #164 was scratched out and Experimental pain relief potion #17 was written above it instead. In his own script he read the conclusion: ‘Despite its effect being strong enough to remove pain nearly completely for 4 hours, 37 minutes and 21 seconds, it began lessening rather rapidly afterwards. Return to original state occurred in circa 5 hours and 13 minutes following initial ingestion. Not ideal - rare ingredients, prolonged brewing time… However, works for intended purposes.’

It was a shortcoming on his part. Only doing one test, that is. That he could admit. Now he was on unfamiliar ground, and there was no clear way for him to be able to test the brew on another subject, to at the very least be able to say with certainty that repeated administration did indeed prolong the effects of the potion. Blast it. 

Well, he could at least examine the area to see if there were any signs of the potion's effects on his body. And so, Aesop Sharp walked over to the armchair next to his bed, took a seat, and used his wand to turn on the lamp standing beside it. Placing his wand upon the armrest, he began to unfasten his left boot, soon letting the heavy footwear slide from his leg and land on the floor with a thud.

His hands worked methodically, relying on muscle memory completely. He undid the straps of his suspenders from his trousers before unbuttoning them and pushing them down, sliding them just enough to be able to pull his left leg free. His pants were given similar treatment soon, and Aesop grit his teeth momentarily as the soft cotton slid down the sensitive tissue of his scar there. Aesop was glad to have invested into a high quality lock on his chambers, as he most likely looked just as ridiculous as he felt whenever he was examining his leg for any sort of change like he was doing now - literally half naked, the air of his chambers chilling the toes on his bare left foot, not to mention his family jewels on full display while his right leg was still half covered and booted. Best have no uninvited guests while he was this vulnerable.

He moved with his armchair slightly closer to the bed to be able to brace his left foot upon the mattress and examine his bad leg properly. There was some sort of foggy pale patch upon his scarred thigh, and at first the professor thought it was just some silly trick of the lighting until he turned his leg a bit to get rid of the effect and… nothing happened. The patch remained there. Upon closer inspection, it truly was some sort of strange skin discoloration, but it couldn’t have been something normal, like perhaps a pale patch left from a failed tan -  because where on earth would he be tanning in early April? And besides, the pattern was… the pattern was very peculiar indeed. Could it have been the potion’s effect? Surely not, he saw nothing of this sort after the first ingestion, and that was a week before he and his beloved left for their little herb picking excursion.

Besides that, when she undressed him and the two of them explored one another for the first time, he saw no such mark on his leg. The poor limb was like it’s always been, the scar red and angry, its lower part only just becoming less visible because of the thicker hair on his shins. Surely he would’ve noticed! And the second day, too, when he watched her head move between his legs, her mouth so sinfully and deliciously descending upon… Alright, now may not be the most opportune time to dwell on such thoughts, Aesop decided when he felt himself twitch slightly.

Had there been anything on his leg? Aesop couldn’t remember. To be fair, he had way more pressing matters on hand back then, and the lighting conditions weren’t exactly optimal for any sort of medical examination, the sun having nearly descended below the horizon, leaving an ethereal semi-darkness of pink dusk in its wake. 

Now however, he could see it quite clearly. Well, clearly… The pattern’s borders were faint, bleeding into his regular skin colour, and the discoloration had been the most obvious across the scar itself. The scar had still been angry red in many places, along its edges in particular, but where the pale patch was, it was almost like… the scar was paler as well? He used the tip of his finger to prod at the tissue gently, and, most surprisingly, found that it didn’t… Well, it didn’t really feel like anything, actually. His finger then slipped along the scar, over to a place that was much redder, and he hissed upon the stinging pain that followed. How strange...

It seemed the pale pattern was sort of wrapping around the scar somewhat, faint, but very much there, from the top of his injury over at his hip bone, all the way to below the knee. When the potions master squinted his eyes, he was able to tell the pattern apart from the rest of his leg easier. Hm… Aesop racked through his brain - the pattern was… oddly familiar… When had he seen it before? It surely wasn’t a symbol he’d seen among the Ancient runes textbooks, and it was not an alchemy symbol either. 

It was sort of like a swirl, like a part of a vortex. Where in Merlin’s name had he seen it…

Aesop closed his eyes.

Coldness seeping into his clothes, making him feel like it was infused into his very bones. The damp air of the dungeons. Suddenly, ethereal blue glow. A large unfamiliar chamber, with what looked like the reflection of the entire Hogwarts region in dark water. Four large portrait frames. A door with a glowing swirl upon it…

His eyes snapped open again.

No way.

Aesop nearly sprung to his feet, and very nearly tumbled to the ground right away, tripping over his own boot and trousers. He stumbled back over to his desk, threw open one of the drawers, and pillaged inside it until he found that one journal he was looking for, uncaring whether the other contents of the drawer flew left or right. For all he cared at that moment, they could very much just land inside the fireplace and he wouldn’t have cared. Less than a minute later, he was sitting back down, furiously flipping through the pages. Where is it, where is it?!

There!

A few of the pages within the notebook were drastically different from the others. Mainly because they didn’t contain any of his experiments or refined recipes, but rather his thoughts following one positively insane night that took place more than two years ago now… It was not one’s typical journal entry, there was no composition, some sentences weren’t finished, some didn’t even make sense to him anymore - goes to show how disturbed Aesop had been following the night. And who could blame him? Hogwarts was supposed to be one of the safest places in the Wizarding world, the safest place in Britain, and yet, on that horrible night, the fate of the world as they knew it was at stake, and one of Aesop’s colleagues had lost his life…

The wizarding world was full of old wives’ tales of various levels of improbability and insanity. And that night Aesop found himself in the middle of one of them.

Ancient magic, only visible and accessible to a very few, nowadays nearly fabled, individuals. Yet another Hogwarts secret nobody had known about in centuries, and talk of sources of power so immense, they could very much destroy not only the school itself, but possibly the entire country or more, if they were to fall into the wrong hands. And Aesop put himself right into the middle of it the second he responded to Matilda Weasley’s urgent Floo call for aid, blast his lame leg.

The teacher observed the quick sketches and notes he scratched into the pages of his journal with his quill following the night, wanting to get his thoughts onto the paper in effort to perhaps understand them better. Among them was the spiral staircase leading down, which he had never seen before in his life, despite having been this far into the dungeons several times. Nobody really had a reason to roam there much, not even the students attending both Muggle studies and Alchemy classes nearby, as there was nothing of interest, just a few empty barrels and crates… Another one depicted a grand circular room, adorned with intricate details, ones that many a pure-blood family manor could be sorely envious of.

And then - open double doors holding the solemn darkness of caverns within, despite their beautiful appearance. While what Aesop found interesting those two years back was the cave system and the secrets that lurked behind those doors, right now he was more interested in the door itself, as it bore a very interesting symbol on it - the very same one that seemed to have been burned into the skin of his leg.

Aesop let the journal fall from his hands and slide from his right leg down to the floor, leaning back against the cushions of his armchair.

Fucking hell…

He had some sort of ancient magic attached to his leg, to his scar. Now that he knew what it was, one wouldn’t need his intellect to know just when it got there - after all, the memory of his and his sweetheart’s bodies trembling against one another with their first shared climax was very much fresh in his memory, and he adored to come back to it again, and again, and again. Another one of his shortcomings; he didn’t question the powerful surge of the Ravenclaw’s ancient magic wrapping around their very forms that first night, even after it turned out to be the only time it happened. He didn’t question what it might’ve done to him, or to her… Aesop was one lucky bastard that the magic hadn’t been destructive towards either of them… Could it have been? He knew the young woman used her powers during combat, actually even got to see her do so, which left him both impressed and slightly intimidated, but the magic that night, the feelings it filled his chest with… That was far from any sort of violent or combatant magic…

Still, he shouldn’t have perhaps figuratively shrugged his shoulders about it like he did. Now it was quite obvious that there was indeed some sort of effect, and, unlike with potions and spells, where most effects can be traced back to the ingredients in potions’ case, and to pronunciation and hand movements when it came to spells, Aesop very much doubted there was anything they could use to predict the future of this one. Would it get weaker as time passed? Or would it get stronger instead? It could, theoretically, get stronger - after all, Aesop only noticed it today, and was nearly certain it wasn’t there a few days ago… At least not this visible…

The potions master had no idea how it worked, and his chances to find out were minimal at best. His knowledge about ancient magic went only as far as Fig’s notes and his sweetheart’s own knowledge… which honestly wasn’t quite as much as both of them would’ve liked. The so called ‘Keepers’ were as enigmatic as ever, it was almost as if, without the threat of immediate danger, they lost most of their interest in teaching the young woman anymore. She did go to meet them occasionally, but has described the four portraits as being quite slow at lecturing her more on the subject of ancient magic. Like they were afraid the young woman might not use this knowledge for good…

All in all, somehow he doubted the Keepers would be able to find an answer to the question ‘Is it possible to heal something with ancient magic while having sex?’. Still, Aesop chuckled darkly, it’d be fun to see if portraits could faint.

The professor sighed then. He felt a little lost - on one hand, he was sort of ecstatic - his leg had been hurting less, and now that he was sitting down, he very nearly didn’t feel it at all. On the other hand, he… Well, he was rather afraid to allow himself to hope again. Each and every time he did, the disappointment that followed hurt all the more. 

He figured he should tell the young woman too. She had a right to know, considering it was her magic that managed to do something he hadn’t in a decade - long lasting effects. A week wasn’t a lot of time, yes, but it was still much longer than anything else he managed to brew throughout the years…

He needed to speak to her, he needed her to help him make heads or tails of the situation. He could go and find Diana to the Owlery, send a message… but that was entirely too slow. That is, he was too slow, the greater sooty owl herself was faster than lightning. Well, there was only one more way to get the young woman to come to him swiftly… Aesop used his wand to summon one of the heavy blankets he kept in his chambers, and draped it over himself in a way that would make it seem he was merely reclining in his armchair, wrapped up to fight the chill of early spring. When he deemed himself covered sufficiently, and of course after hiding his discarded boot underneath the blanket, he summoned a house elf.

“Please, find (F/N) (L/N), a seventh-year Ravenclaw. Send her to me - tell her it’s urgent that she comes, as there is a… an inconsistency in her NEWT essay…”

With a pop, the elf disapparated and Aesop was once again left alone in his chambers. He gazed into the flames in his hearth thoughtfully. This year truly is turning out to be drastically different from the previous ones, isn’t it… It was not long at all before he heard knocking upon his door. His sweetheart let herself in following his invitation, and immediately came to find him in his bedchamber.

His brain gave out momentarily and his thoughts ceased suddenly when she came into his field of view, looking so casually gorgeous in her crisp white shirt, simple striped tie, and her calf-length black skirt. 

She leaned against the doorframe with a sparkle in her eye, one that made Aesop’s heart throb. “An inconsistency in my essay, you say?” she purred, a smile spreading upon her face, before she began to walk towards him slowly, her hips swaying most invitingly. “I-...” Aesop forgot to speak for a minute, completely mesmerised by her movements. “Actually,” he continued, mouth drier than it was a moment ago, “while I adore the way you’re looking at me right now, it’s not the reason I called you here…”

And with that he pulled the blanket up partially, revealing his bare left leg. “Aesop, you’re not exactly helping in making me think you didn’t invite me here for some tender fun…” she chuckled quietly, and the potions master couldn’t help but feel a little smile forming on his lips as well. However, he only raised his maimed leg upon the bed like he’d done before: “Please come take a look at this…” Cocking her head to the side confusedly, the Ravenclaw walked nearer, soon enough bending onto one knee to look at what he was referring to.

“What is it? Has it worsened?” she asked, sounding concerned. “The other way around actually,” Aesop replied quietly, “take a proper look at the skin colour around it - what do you see?” The girl carefully placed her hand on an unscarred part of his thigh and leaned in closer, furrowing her brows.

Then suddenly, as if a switch was flicked, her eyes widened and mouth dropped open in a way Aesop would’ve almost described as comical in a different situation.

“I-... That’s-... How?!” she stammered, observing the scar and the pale pattern upon it.

“I don’t know,” Aesop replied truthfully, “I only noticed it today.”

Then, however, he saw an expression appear on the girl’s face, one that he didn’t expect. 

Terror.

“Oh no… no, no, no, no, no…” She began shaking her head, one of her hands coming to cover her mouth, and were those tears gathering in her eyes? “What, what is it, dear?” Aesop asked, his own panic rising. “This is bad, oh Merlin…” she only stammered on, having now gotten up and begun backing away somewhat.

“Darling, please,” The professor quickly grabbed at her wrist, gently but firmly, and started pulling her back towards him. She was breathing hard and looking terribly, terribly panicked when he managed to sit her down upon his healthy leg and wrapped his arms around her. Using one hand, he pressed her face against his neck, and used the other to draw deep circles into her back, making gentle shushing noises. He could feel the dampness of her tears on his collar: “Calm yourself my sweet. Tell me what’s wrong, please.”

“Oh, Aesop…” she whimpered miserably, “I’m so, so sorry…” Aesop shushed her some more: “What are you apologising for? It doesn’t hurt, if that’s what’s gotten you worried. In fact, the pain has lessened considerably.” “That’s the thing, Aesop…” she lifted her head up to look at him: “I… before me, there was another woman, one who had my powers…I may have said something here and there about her before...” The professor listened carefully, not rushing her in her speech, merely looking into her eyes and continuing to stroke her back, “Um… Ever since she began school in her fifth year, like me, what she wanted the most was to rid her father of pain from losing his son - her brother… And after years, she was successful in her efforts. She pulled the pain right out of him. A-and for a while, it seemed to be all good… But then one day her colleague went to find her at her family home, and she wasn’t there… But her father was… He was barren of all emotion. Not just of pain, he didn’t have anything in him left! He became a body with no soul!”

Aesop gulped, much too loudly, feeling his own heart speeding up. Bloody hell…

Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down, as both of them panicking would help absolutely nothing, he forced himself to think about her words while once more closing his arms around her tight. Right… 

“Uh… You said that she was only successful after years, didn’t you?” Aesop asked, his voice quiet and as soothing as possible. He felt the woman in his arms nod her head against his shoulders. “Would you mind telling me how you know that?” His sweetheart took several deep breaths before raising her head again, not meeting his eyes this time: “I found a series of journal entries. This woman, Isidora Morganach, was helping heal people from the plague alongside a few other wizards and muggle doctors alike, but… But while she helped heal the people of their physical illness, she wasn’t able to relieve them of their pain of losing loved ones to the Black death… And so she, I don’t know, she made this spell that extracted pain from people… She’d use her wand, hold it to someone’s chest and pull out what looked like this dark wispy cluster. She’d proceed to breathe it in, and later store it away into containers made of goblin silver… The biggest one being-” “The Final repository.” “Yes.”

“Wait a minute, though-” Aesop said, feeling slightly less panicked. “If she managed to fill that giant thing to the brim with pain-”

“She extracted pain from others. From Hogwarts students, from anyone she could…”

“Then not all of them must’ve turned into soulless beings.”

“I-... What?” Her eyes, red from crying softly, finally met his own. “You heard,” Aesop spoke, feeling more confident, “that thing… it’s the most powerful thing I’ve ever seen, filled to the brim with magic… and it wasn’t even the only one, you said Ranrok got his power from below the Rookwood castle. She must’ve really taken the pain of dozens, perhaps even hundreds - and if each and every one of them subsequently lost all emotion because of it, well, it would have been noticed! It would have been written down. That’s not something people could ignore! Did you… Do you know of anyone else who had their pain extracted by her?” The young woman in his arms thought for a moment before her eyes lit up: “Professor Fitzgerald!”

“Who?”

“She was the Headmistress here when Isidora was a student and later a teacher, as well as one of the Keepers - Isidora took her pain as well!” 

“And did she lose all emotion?”

“I don’t- I don’t know. Her memories only showed the immediate aftermath… I-... I have to ask!” the Ravenclaw was just about to rush away from him, no doubt into the direction of the Map chamber, but Aesop held on tight: “Just wait for a minute, dear. You also mentioned that you actually saw the process too. From, uh, from what I remember, there never came a point during which you pointed your wand at me, and extracted something from within me, did it?”

She thought for a moment: “No… No, there really was no moment like that… Can I… Can I take a look at your leg again?” With a small smile, Aesop finally allowed her to stand up and leave his embrace. She kneeled in front of him again and looked at his leg carefully. “This is… it’s also different,” she murmured as if more to herself than to him, “it’s not the dark wispy thing… and it’s not the red glow I saw Ranrok and his loyalists give off… But there is a glow…” Aesop’s eyebrows furrowed. A glow? He didn’t see any glow… Was she just talking about the fact the pattern was lighter than the rest of his skin, or…?

“I think it’s the blue one, I can’t… I can’t really see it clearly…” she kept on talking, even quieter than before. “Darling, I cannot see any glow…” he replied, still trying to see what she was talking about. “I… Well, you wouldn’t. I think only I can see it. Professor Fig couldn’t see it either…”

“Ah, right. However, you’re saying that it doesn’t look like the magic that this Isidora of yours was wielding when she extracted pain from people, right?”

“Right.” “So there is a chance I won’t be losing my emotions.”

“I… I hope so…”

“And so do I. Why don’t you, uh, why don’t you check up with the former Headmistress - perhaps her portrait will be able to tell you more,” Aesop said finally. His heart had calmed down somewhat, though his head was still reeling a little. His beloved nodded her head frantically. But then she looked at him: “You said it hurt less now, didn’t you?”

“It indeed does,” he confirmed, carefully touching the scarred skin. The Ravenclaw bit into her lip: “Um, we can trust Nurse Blainey, right? I mean, she’s the one who fixed me up after what… what happened in those caverns. Maybe you should, you know, show it to her?”

“Are you sure that’s not a waste of time? You just said you’re the only one who can see the glow.”

“It’s not that much about the glow, Aesop - she’ll be able to give you a diagnosis, or something, anything… We’re in a position where we could use all the information we can get…”

She had a fair point, Aesop thought. But such was the way of Ravenclaws, always believing that knowledge is key. Frankly, he was slightly through with healers running diagnostics on him only to put on that oh so compassionate face and tell him that they can’t do anything for him… But then again, could it be different now? He did trust Noreen to remain discreet at the very least - however, he also didn’t at all doubt that she’ll probe at him until she got as much information about this new… progress… And would she keep her discretion after he told her? Of course, his and the young woman’s relationship wasn’t forbidden, but still…

“Trust me, I too am cringing at the very thought of going to ask the former Headmistress about this, as she’s no doubt going to be very inquisitive… I may actually attempt to ask the other’s to leave, if it comes down to me actually talking about what happened - because I know both you and I know that this happened during… You know… The light vines and all… I think I’m able to talk to her about it, but I think I would die in embarrassment were I to speak to Rackham and Rookwood about such matters… Actually, all three of us would, in most likelihood.” “What about the fourth one?”

“I don’t know - I have a feeling he’ll insist on staying, though I wish he hadn’t.. To, I don’t know, make sure I wasn’t about to go down the same path as Isidora or something…”

Aesop shook his head. As if the young woman before him hadn’t proved her heart was nothing but pure… She proved it, in his own opinion, enough for several lifetimes. He knew of Isidora Morganach’s untimely but unavoidable death at the hands of one of the Keepers, and he knew with all of his heart that his beloved was nothing like this woman, there was not a single power-hungry hair on her head. 

“Run along - the sooner we’re done with these no doubt uncomfortable tasks we’ve got to attend to now, the sooner we’ll hopefully be able to breathe a sigh of relief… And hopefully have a strong cup of good tea. And perhaps a splash of Firewhisky. And biscuits.” Aesop was happy to hear the young woman snort silently. She raised herself up and looked at him: “I… um, I’ll see you at the Hospital wing then?” He gave a nod. And, just like that, he was left by himself once more. However, not before receiving several very lovely kisses, during which it took everything within him not to say ‘Damn that talking piece of canvas hag as well as any silly examination!’ and just have both of them stay in the comfort of his rooms for the time being. 

He sighed and threw the blanket covering his modesty back onto the bed before restoring his clothes the way they’re supposed to be, triple checking whether everything was decent before leaving his rooms to make the short way over to the Hospital wing. And when he did find himself at the very top of the stairs, Aesop had to throw a phial of Wiggenweld back - the pain was better, but it was far from gone, and stairs really weren’t doing it much good at all.

The Hospital wing was as it always had been - bright and airy, sterile but homely. The scent of various healing salves, potions and herbs wafted through the pleasantly cool air, and the sun of late afternoon poured in through the partly open window. To his massive relief, Aesop found that, surprisingly, there were no students currently getting attended to by the school nurse. How curious - Aesop could’ve sworn there would always be at least one half-maimed student here at all occasions.

“Quiet, isn’t it?” Came Noreen’s voice from somewhere behind him, making the poor man flinch ever so slightly. He turned his head to see the young Nurse peering at him from out of her office/bedroom. “Indeed,” he replied coolly, flawlessly masking his bewilderment at her sudden appearance and her startling him, “how so? Didn’t you have a minimum amount of whining teenagers you must have here at all times of day and night?” 

Nurse Blainey sneered lightly: “A third of Crossed Wands is worried about their NEWTs, a third is worried about their OWLs, Mr Brattleby included, and the rest are lost like forest bees on a glade without their organiser, so they daren’t set any matches that get actually dangerous. The most that happens to the lot who still go there to practice is a singed eyebrow, and they don’t really want me to witness that.”

“And Quidditch?” Aesop asked, reaching a hand out to lean a part of his weight on one of the beds.

“Well, we’ve only got Slytherin versus Hufflepuff left, don’t we? I hear Miss Reyes is making sure no member of her ‘Dream Team’ as much as sprains an ankle or pulls a muscle during their practices, so they’re in top shape for the final match, and you know Hufflepuffs - at least a dozen of them who are hoping to become healers are always nearby, just itching to get their practice in was any of the Hufflepuff players become injured. And me - I’ve got some well deserved peace at last. At least I had till you came in.”

Aesop chuckled.

—

As the Ravenclaw entered the Map chamber, a rush of emotions swept through her. Though she visited the room on a semi-regular basis, the frequency wasn't as high as she had initially anticipated it would be. The Keepers' reluctance to hasten their lectures, their occasional absolute absence from their frames, and the poignant memories of Professor Fig that flooded her mind each time she stepped inside all contributed to her subconscious avoidance of joining the four Keepers down here. And besides that, she was a busy woman…

The cold air nipped at her ears as she slowly descended the stairs leading to the spacious chamber below, she was quick to notice all four former professor’s stood within their frames. The atmosphere in the room was very nearly surreal, ethereal, as if time itself had no meaning within, there was no concept of day and night there. However, despite the four sentient portraits there, she always felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end from how unsettling the place was - each time she remembered the people on the wall were not actually there, that they weren’t trapped in those paintings, but had actually been dead and buried for centuries, the silence of the room felt deafening. Despite its lack of foes for her to defeat, no giant spiders, no rampant Dugbogs, the room actually felt scarier than many dark caves and ruined abandoned buildings when the Keepers were absent. Even Inferi would make the place feel less… dead.

She was swiftly pulled out of her macabre thoughts.

“Welcome back, Miss (L/N). It’s been some time since we last made your acquaintance,” spoke professor Rackham, his soft voice reverberating off the intricately patterned walls. The young woman swallowed and made her way across the large map of the Highlands around Hogwarts castle. “My apologies, professors - I was rather busy with my NEWTs and such…” she replied quietly before looking at the portrait of professor Fitzgerald, “Headmistress, may I… may I speak to you for a moment?”

The woman looked mildly surprised to be addressed specifically, but quickly schooled her features into a pleasant expression: “Certainly, Miss. What is it you want to talk about?” The young woman’s eyes nervously flicked around the other three portraits, the people within them regarding her with unabashed curiosity. “Actually,” she spoke, attempting to make her voice as neutral as possible despite the heat rising to her cheeks already, “actually I wondered whether I could talk to you privately…”

The Keepers’ expressions turned even more curious, and they too began looking around at one another. Finally, the Irishwoman cleared her throat: “Of course - after all, if a student wishes to speak with their professor in private, they’re fully entitled to.” Rackham and Rookwood both nodded in the Headmistress’ direction. “I shall check up on San’s tower then, make sure there are no more trespassers,” Rackham announced, slowly moving out of his portrait. “And I shall do the same with Rookwood castle. Still, such a terrible shame what has the good House of Rookwood come to, not to mention the once grand estate…”

Soon it was almost as if the young woman and the Headmistress were entirely alone, until: “I know you’re lingering just beyond the frame, San,” Fitzgerald said, her hands elegantly folded in front of herself. “I merely wonder as to why shouldn’t the rest of us know what you intend to speak to the Headmistress about. It’s not like either of us ever had shown any sort of unreliability, seeing as we protected what could possibly become the biggest weapon in the Wizarding world for centuries. Besides, four people, more experiences, a larger possibility of helping the student should she require it,” came from one of the empty-appearing frames.  The Ravenclaw immediately felt a wave of frustration, as well as more colour rising into her face: “I-it’s something of a private matter, Professor Bakar…”

After a few seconds of pregnant silence, there came a sigh: “Very well. Leaving you two alone…”

Finally, Professor Fitzgerald turned her gaze back at the young woman before her: “It seems we’ve got privacy now - what did you want to talk about, lass?”

Dear Merlin… This was going to be anything but easy.

“Do you remember how Isidora would rid people of their pain?” she asked. At the mention of Isidora’s name, the Headmistress visibly tensed. Nevertheless, she nodded her head. “What actually happened to her father afterwards? I mean - in one of the pensieve memories, after she rids him of his pain, he seems… relieved. Happy, actually. Grateful. But then, in Professor Bakar’s memories, he actually has no more emotions left… He’s like an empty husk of a human… I wanted to know if… Well, if Isidora taking his pain away led to the other emotions leaving as well.”

Niamh stayed quiet for several seconds, clearly considering her answer. Before she could speak however, the young woman added: “In your memories, I saw her take your pain too… You didn’t… You didn’t ever feel like you were losing grasp on your other feelings as well, or?”

“No, no…” the Headmistress replied softly, “no, I can’t say I have. I can understand where you’re coming from, though. After San… After Isidora’s death, we had a lot to deal with. A lot of damage to fix. We had to try and make the caverns as inaccessible as possible, make up a cover story for Isidora’s passing, and, of course, alter some of the students’ memories… It was only after we made sure that Isidora didn’t leave behind anything that could potentially lead any new wielder of ancient magic astray did San inform us of the state he found Isidora’s father in…

“We went to visit him, all of us, and found him quite like you described - an empty husk. Mind, he was alive and, well, he was functioning. He worked on his field in the morning, fed the chickens, took care of the house, cooked for himself, ate, slept… But he did so without a word, without a single emotion. And when we tried to speak to him, well… It was like he did hear us, but our words were like noise and nothing else…

“We… well, we did attempt to.. put the pain back… Percival found the jar of goblin silver Isidora used to store her father’s pain in, that evening she showed us. Only, well…”

The young woman was hanging onto every word, wondering and fearing.

“Well, Professor?”

Headmistress Fitzgerald heaved a long sigh: “He didn’t return to his original state… Instead of regaining his emotions, his personality, there was only one feeling he was able to experience - a blinding rage. Nothing else than anger. Not ten seconds after Percival returned the magic into Mr Morganach’s chest did he try to attack us, blindly and in wild-abandon. In the end the poor man had to be transported to Saint Mungo’s. We thought it appropriate even though he was a muggle, since his malady was a magical one. There was never any improvement, though…”

The Ravenclaw gulped audibly, her hands beginning to tremble slightly. Would this happen to Aesop? Would he… would he eventually lose his emotions, his feelings, his very identity?

“And what about the others… Isidora took many others’ pain, didn't she? Yours too… Did anyone else lose all emotion?” she asked and closed her hands into fist to stop them from shaking.

“No. I have lived for many years after Isidora’s death. That of her father too. She did remove some pain from within me, that of my husband dying… You know, when I first witnessed Isidora removing her father’s pain, I thought it was… kind. To take away such a heavy burden one’s been carrying for so long. But then I got to experience it myself. And at first, it did feel like a relief… but then I found that something felt missing. I didn’t feel any pain caused by my grief, but I also didn’t feel the same warmth and the sort of intensity I did before when I remembered my husband. The same love perhaps… It occurred to me then that… That pain is a horrible thing to feel, but at the same time it’s something that’s needed in order for us to be able to properly feel all of the other emotions as well. And it’s the thing that tells us we truly loved somebody. Without the pain of having lost my husband, I suddenly didn’t quite understand the other emotions I held for him.. And I rather think that it was the same for Isidora’s father, whose pain was such a great part of him, it was connected to all other aspects, and he, in time, became less and less balanced. Not in pain, but not happy either.

“It’s difficult to say what came first; whether it was Isidora’s want to ‘fix’ her father, or whether she was already consumed by her lust for power. As you surely remember, she would-”

“She would inhale the residue magic from the pain she removed…”

“Precisely. With each wisp of that dark power she accepted, she grew hungrier and hungrier for more. So she may have been simply tearing away at her father’s emotions to try and balance them out until nothing remained… or she might’ve taken all of them in one take, only to strengthen herself further… We shall never know. What we do know is that nobody else was stripped of their emotions this much, none of the students, none of the residents of various Hamlets we heard of…”

Looking up at the Headmistress once more, the young woman nodded her head. This was… good news, wasn’t it? That is that nobody else was stripped away of their humanity, of their personality and of their feelings. Perhaps it meant that Aesop too won’t be losing any of his. However, how big part of Aesop was the pain in his leg? And was the difference between physical pain and psychical one so large? Having lost Professor Fig those two years ago, the girl knew that mental pain can easily feel like the bodily one. Worse, actually. And Aesop carried both of them. Would the mental pain become lesser like the physical one did? And if so, just how large a part of Aesop’s sense of identity was it?

Niamh observed the student with deeply curious eyes, soon pulling her out of her thoughts: “Will you allow me a question now as well?”

Raising her eyes, the girl nodded, not quite prepared to speak yet. “Why are you asking all of this? That is, I could understand you asking all of this out of curiosity, being a true Ravenclaw, and that is admirable. However, I have a reason to believe simple curiosity is not the case this time. Why now? What happened?”

Taking a few seconds to gather her thoughts further, the young woman breathed deeply: “Before I answer your question, Professor, I have one more - Isidora would take people’s pain away using her wand. And the pain looked like this dark cluster of magic. Is it at all possible to… replicate this spell accidentally, wandlesly, with no intent on taking anything away, and, uh, without the dark cluster of magic?”

Niamh looked very confused for several seconds, actually opening and closing her mouth a few times as she thought about the answer to the strange question, before finally settling on: “I… I don’t know… Professor Rackham would’ve perhaps been able to answer that, being a wielder of ancient magic himself, but I… Well, logically, when it comes to spells, the same result cannot be achieved by using two vastly different techniques. Not to mention a vastly complicated spell such as this could not be performed accidentally.”

“But that is what happened, professor,” the Ravenclaw finally spoke, no longer able to keep up with this careful figurative dance the two were performing around one another, “I think I accidentally took someone’s pain away…”

“I…” Professor Fitzgerald made a stop, her eyes quickly getting suspicious: “What did you do?”

The young girl swallowed and closed her eyes: “Professor Sharp - he’s one of the teachers who aided in the battle for the Final repository - he was injured some decade ago, by a curse nobody was able to break. It left him with a maimed leg. He’s got a scar that goes from his hip all the way to below the knee of his left leg, in the shape of a lighting strike, and he has a limp…”

“How do you know how his scar looks-”

“Him and I… our relationship’s quite recently moved past the boundaries of teacher and student. We became involved romantically.” 

Niamh Fitzgerald, esteemed former Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Sorcery was left staring with her mouth wide open. The young Ravenclaw would’ve probably thought it hilarious if the situation had been any different than it was. The woman who prepared her a trial so terrifying and terrific, perfected into the most macabre of details, and causing her nightmares for many nights to come, was staring at her like she just sprouted not only a second head, but also a third and fourth one, and all of them were of different animals.

“I… That’s…” Niamh grasped for words.

“It’s not against any of the school rules,” the young woman spoke quickly, “All that is stated is that all extra-curricular relationships between teachers and students must be prevented from interfering with the running of the school and lessons, and in case the relationship is of the romantic status, the student must be of legal age. Which I am.”

Professor Fitzgerald finally closed her mouth, but it was obvious this revelation left her a little shaken. A little part of the student revelled in this knowledge - for once she wasn’t the one left with wide eyes and trying to process what just happened. She, however, didn’t exactly have the time to let the former Headmistress fully process the new information she was given. Even so, though, given the period of time during which the older woman lived, she decided it would be wise to keep her words as proper as possible.

“Last week the two of us… Lay together, as a man and a woman do. And something happened that night - vines of light wrapped around our bodies entirely before slowly disappearing again. That hasn’t happened since. However, today we discovered that my magic had left a mark on him, on the scar on his leg. A paler patch of skin in the shape of the same symbol that’s throughout this very room. And underneath, I could see the traces of ancient magic, the blue glow. His leg had been hurting less than before, but the pain hadn’t fully left. We don’t know what we can expect from this development - which is why I came to you.”

Fitzgerald seemed to finally get her bearings then and cleared her throat: “Well… That’s… quite the news. I… Well, of course it’s good that you came to me, I’ll try to tell you all I know, but I warn you: it may not be enough. After all, Professor Rackham is the one who also bore the ability of ancient magic, and he’s therefore more knowledgeable about it than myself…”

The young woman cringed slightly: “I was aware that it might have been the case. However, given the… nature of the situation, I felt more comfortable discussing it with you, as a woman with a woman.” 

“Naturally,” replied the professor, a small smile actually appearing on her face. 

“I really need to know one thing though - are you certain there’s no risk of the professor losing his emotions, like Isidora’s father?” asked the young woman then, gazing up at the portrait. The former Headmistress sighed: “I of course don’t know that for certain… However, subjectively, I do not think so. After all, you said it yourself that the process was entirely different from that of Isidora - and it seems that instead of ‘taking’, you actually ‘gave’ something.

“Now, I am entering something of an uncharted territory here, but let me just say this: love is one of the strongest, if not the absolutely strongest, ancient magic there is, and intercourse itself can make one more… susceptible to powerful magic. You see, it’s when we are at our most vulnerable, our most open. In our day to day lives, we place a varying level of restraint on ourselves, etiquette tells us to behave and speak a certain way, and it can even go as far as to directly influence the strength of our magic. The more closed off, the more volatile this magic gets. Hence the unfortunate occasional cases of Obscurus. However, when we’re as open as we get during this ultimate act of love, it’s not unheard of for powerful magic to flow freely through our veins, and collide with the magic of our partner. Usually, it only serves to… heighten the sensations.

“Actual accidental magic during such a union is rather rare, but not entirely unheard of. However, it can get quite tricky to find mentions of it, as it is naturally not exactly a topic that is discussed casually, for obvious reasons. I’ll try to aid you to the best of my abilities. I even have an idea about how your situation came to be, but I cannot make any promises that what I’m saying is entirely correct.”

The young woman heaved a sigh of relief: “Anything is good, Professor.”

—

“Alright… now, let me take a look at that.” Noreen said after she’d finished writing down Aesop’s own findings and sent the parchment floating over to her desk, where she could pore over it later. She turned to face the potions master expectantly, raising an eyebrow when he remained right where he was, leaning against one of the beds, unmoving: “Well?”

Aesop scoffed: “What, do you want me to just drop my trousers right now?” The nurse rolled her eyes at the man: “Obviously not. Go behind one of the privacy screens, undress, lay yourself down and wait for me there. You can use the blanket to cover any sensitive areas.”

As Noreen prepared a blank report for her to fill in as she examined the professor’s leg, she had to roll her eyes again. Of course Aesop Sharp limped down the Hospital wing all the way towards the cots furthest from the door. “Make sure the doors are locked,” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared behind the privacy curtain. 

“First he’s ready to drop his trousers right in front of the entrance, now he’d prefer this room to be locked like the bloody Gringotts…” Noreen muttered under her breath. The nurse gave him a few minutes to undress and make himself comfortable on the bed, all the while wondering as to how come there was such sudden progress. 

Noreen Blainey only started as the school nurse five years ago, only a few weeks after she finished with her healer studies, making her the third third newest addition to the Hogwarts staff, as well as the second youngest member of it. Matilda Weasley was rightfully slightly sceptical about accepting Noreen at first.

“I know you were a right hard worker when you still studied here, even by Hufflepuff standards, and I know you retained this quality of yours all the way through Healer school. Your instructors have nothing but good things to say about you.”

“Thank you, Professor.”“However, I am slightly worried as to whether you’ll be able to execute this sort of… authority over the students. I needn't tell you that while you and some others were indeed working hard while here, many others would do nearly anything to get out of class, even if for a quarter an hour. And some of them have quite drastic, though very creative, ideas on how to do so.”

“You needn’t worry, Professor Weasley, I certainly don’t plan on letting anyone who’d wish to skip class off the hook that easily. You know I was never the one to condone these kinds of actions.”

“That I do.”

Noreen was able to wash the Deputy Headmistress’ doubts within half a year.

Known for her strict attitude, students thought twice before pretending to be sick just to get out of writing a pop quiz they didn’t prepare for. However, those who were genuinely sick and/or injured knew that they could always rely on the Nurse to fix them right back up. Noreen also became popular with the Fifth and Seventh years swiftly, due to her open attitude on Wideye potion, and the female population of the castle knew they were always welcome to collect what they needed on their days. 

However, Noreen herself was surprised how the gruff Potions master learned to trust not only her expertise and professional judgement, but also her as a person fairly quickly. To be fair, perhaps she should not have been quite that surprised - after all, those few nights over the past years when she had to rush into his chambers, hauling several potions bundled haphazardly in her own dressing gown, to find the professor in a rather pitiful state, sweating, panting, sometimes screaming in the unholy pain he was in, that all stayed only between them, Noreen never spoke of it with anyone. Such was the physician–patient privilege, of course, but Noreen decided to go a step further, and only ever wrote what transpired during these nights in her records as ‘Night episode - potions administered’. 

She walked around the privacy screen to find the Potions professor lying down on his back on the cot - his coat and jacket deposited on a nearby hanger, so his upper body was only covered by his shirt and waistcoat. His bottom half was indeed covered by the white blanket, save for the teacher’s long left leg. Aesop had his hands folded upon his midsection and was looking straight up into the ceiling. However, before Noreen could as much as sit on a chair next to the bed and begin her examination, someone took hold of the handle on the door and attempted to enter. In vain.

A second passed before there was a knock.

“Unless you’re about to die, please wait outside,” Noreen called coolly, fully prepared to let whoever was out there wait since professor Sharp had such a high preference of privacy. 

“Uh, is Professor Sharp in there?” came a voice from the outside. The Nurse’s eyebrows rose slightly, and she looked at the professor to find him having risen himself up and leaning on his elbows. He gave her a slightly sheepish look: “Let her in.”

What?

Every now and then Noreen Blainey felt like she understood the potions master. And each and every time she was promptly shown she was mistaken. Oh well.

Using her wand, she unlocked the door and stepped out from behind the privacy screen. She knew who it was of course, though not so much because the young woman came around often, but rather because of what transpired around this girl two years prior.

“Miss (L/N). Your teacher is unwell, surely whatever you need can wait,” she attempted to dismiss the girl.

“Aes-” escaped her mouth before she quickly cleared her throat, “P-professor Sharp is unwell?” Noreen blinked in confusion. Before she could say anything else, however, Aesop’s baritone cut through the air: “I’m fine, (F/N). Over here.”

Now Blainey definitely didn’t understand. She briefly considered pinching herself to see whether she wasn’t in some bizarre dream in which the grumpy former Auror who had very few favourites among students, and who preferred spending his free time anywhere but in a company of a student, was inviting one of them to seek him in the Hospital wing, where he was lying half naked on the bed.

That is, she knew the two of them met up every now and then, ever since that escapade in her Fifth year, but she never would’ve thought they’d be quite this close… 

The young woman made her way over to the Professor’s bed, carefully watching the Nurse from out of the corner of her eyes. And as she rounded the privacy screen, a single look was all it took for Noreen.

She never thought she was going to bear witness to such a sight, but here she was - the moment the Ravenclaw entered the former Auror’s field of view, his eyes literally sparkled, and one of his rare smiles spread upon his roguishly handsome face. And the young woman wasn’t able to conceal her own happiness at seeing the older man.

Well, fancy that! Blainey thought as she watched the short silent exchange between the couple of them. Because it was rather obvious the two of them were a lot closer than she would’ve thought. Blast it - she owed 2 Galleons to Hecat now, having bet that the young woman would get together with the Sallow lad. Which was completely logical, seeing as the two of them seemed to be joined at the hip the moment the lass stepped into the bloody castle! Did the DADA Professor know with whom she’d end up instead? She didn’t say... Only said that she ‘very much doubted’ that the girl’s and Sallow’s relationship would ever leave the grounds of a platonic friendship… Blainey was so certain though, the lad stared at her like she was a holy picture for Merlin’s sake. Oh well…

And since the teacher obviously had no qualms about letting the young woman see him in his current state of undress (despite the fact that everything but his bad leg was hidden underneath the blanket), well, that was telling by itself. Noreen only sighed: “Alright. Get to explaining.”

She then finally got to examining the leg. There were several seconds of silence before Aesop spoke, his voice measured and careful: “do we have your discretion, Noreen?” The Nurse raised her eyes to look at the couple. How curious to see the two of them nervous. She wasn’t sure she ever saw the former Auror nervous - despite his limp and the occasional nightly episode, he was always proud, confident, intimidating almost. She was quite glad she wasn’t a student anymore when he came to teach potions, having graduated in the summer before he replaced Professor Sinclair. And yet, now he was looking at her nervously and with a nearly bated breath. The Ravenclaw was as well, and Noreen saw her hands twitching, as if she was focusing all of her energy on not coming closer to grab the Potions master’s hand.

“Well, she’s a grown woman, so she can do whatever the devil she wants. All I care about is whether both sides consent and nobody is forcing anyone into anything…” Noreen raised her voice somewhat at the end of her sentence, looking into the Ravenclaw’s eyes in a clear indication of a question. “I promise, Nurse Blainey, nobody is forcing anyone into anything, and I very much consent to what me and Ae-... what me and professor Sharp have…” Noreen scoffed: “Might as well call him by his name, seeing as you obviously call him that.”

The girl went slightly pink under the nurse’s gaze and used her hand to squeeze at her arm rather awkwardly. “Look, I don’t actually care all that much about how the two of you came to be, and I definitely won’t be running around the school telling people. Though the two of you best work on your stiff upper lips, as one look at the two of you was enough for me to figure you out, and I’m much better at seeing through people’s physical state rather than the emotional one. What I’m more interested in is what happened with the leg and what you have to do with it.”

“Not that easy, Noreen - not even we know exactly what happened,” Aesop said, audibly calmer now that he knew Noreen would keep his and the young woman’s relationship to herself. Speaking of the young woman, she perked up somewhat: “Actually, I was able to find something out… I think that I accidentally imprinted some of the magic I possess on your leg - that much we gathered, obviously. But I found that the ancient magic can be something of an energy source - a different kind of it ’powers’ Hogwarts as well, like the Grand Staircase. It’s the reason all of the places built by the Keepers look the way they do, spotless and like they were built only yesterday,  the ancient magic keeps them that way.”

Both Aesop and Blainey listened carefully. “I think that when the magic attached itself to your leg, well, the curse there latched onto it and started feeding off it rather than your leg itself - which would explain the pain lessening. As to whether this effect will last, whether it will become stronger or weaker - that I don’t know… However, given that the magic present within the Keeper trials and the Map chamber was able to last for at least four hundred years and doesn’t seem to be getting any weaker, I think this effect could potentially last…” 

Chills ran down the Potions master’s spine at his sweetheart’s words.

Blainey of course heard the full extent of what happened those two years ago. She didn’t necessarily understand all of it, but then again she didn’t have to. For her, the main thing was the result - therefore, she returned to examining the professor’s leg: “So you say the pain has lessened. Do you feel it right now as we speak?” Professor Sharp shook his head: “Barely. And even so, it’s more like… the memory of the pain, rather than the pain itself. It feels like it should be there, given it was there for more than a decade now, but instead there’s only a shadow of it.”

“And when you walk?” Blainey continued, carefully prodding at the scar tissue with her fingers, noting that Aesop made a small grimace whenever her fingers ventured onto the redder parts of the scar, but seemed to not feel her touch when she directed it at the lighter areas of it. What was ‘covered’ by the pale patch of skin looked like a completely mundane healed scar, and was gradually turning into the angry red where the pale patch ended.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the young woman shift her weight from one foot to the other slightly uncomfortably, her eyes directed at Noreen’s hands on Aesop’s leg. The nurse rolled her eyes - of course, while Miss (L/N) was one of the more level headed students, not even she was immune to that nasty momentary flare of jealousy of witnessing another woman touching her beloved like so. “Do calm down, Miss, I’ve no intention to touch the professor in any other way than medical.”

Aesop raised his eyebrows and the girl got red in the cheeks once more: “I didn’t-...” “The good Nurse is merely having a laugh, don’t mind her,” the Potions master was quick to answer, in turn making Noreen roll her eyes some more: “What’s  walking like?”

“Walking hurts still, but considerably less so than before… However, it also hurts somewhat differently…” the professor mused out loud.

“That’s to be expected - in continuously insisting not to use your cane and instead just limping around, you have not done yourself any favours. Even should the pain in your leg that was caused by the curse disappear completely, it won’t change the fact you have walked in a way that minimised it for more than a decade, that’s damage done to your muscles, your very posture - it would take some time and a lot of exercise for you to return to normal walking. 

Aesop’s head was once again whirling - normal walking. Bloody hell, Aesop wasn’t sure the term would ever be applicable to him again. Was there truly a chance for him to walk normally once more? Instead of dragging his bad leg behind himself, undignified and weak (though he knew very few saw him that way), the hope of being able to walk straight, proud, his head held high, now loomed over him closer than ever before. And this time it seemed so real. It was a sweet siren’s call for the former Auror, and he was very nearly afraid to reach for it in fear of it turning into naught but dust before his eyes. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to get himself back together if he decided to hope, truly hope, and then lose this hope again.

“What do you propose we do then?” asked the Ravenclaw.

“Well, I’m going to give you a list of exercises, which I implore you, Aesop, to try to do as often as possible, but within some sensible limits. There’s also trying to walk normally, for which another person should be present as well, so that they can correct your posture if need be, and be there for when you inevitably grow tired or the pain becomes too severe, for you to lean against. I presume that’s where you’ll come in quite handy, Miss (L/N),” Noreen listed, and Aesop’s sweetheart nodded her head vehemently. “Just don’t be foolish about it, Aesop. I understand that you must now feel anxious to start walking normally, if at all possible, as soon as you can, but there’s no point in maiming yourself because you tried to hurry up the healing process. Keep reminding yourself that you walked with a limp for over ten years now, you’re not going to prance about like a gazelle within a week. Overdo it, and you’re right back at the beginning.”

It was Aesop’s turn to nod his head.

“Now, this all only applies if whatever it is that makes your leg feel better holds, naturally. Shall it worsen, don’t try to force anything, you’ll only end up hurting yourself more.”

“Will do.”

“Now. How about you try to show us if you even remember how to walk normally?”

Aesop’s eyebrows shot up again momentarily before he dropped his gaze to his partially covered lower body: “may I wear my trousers before I do so?”

And so Nurse Blainey rolled her eyes the third time, now shaking her head as well in exasperation. The young Ravenclaw, however, seemed to be fighting the urge to giggle, perhaps even suggesting Aesop stays in his current state of undress. “Just your drawers for now - I want to see how the muscles in your legs react. I’ll even re-lock the door for you,” the Nurse offered dryly.

“How gracious of you,” replied Aesop in the same manner. Noreen excused herself then to place the report which wrote itself throughout the examination among the others - and then made a stop. After all, this was one that was better hidden, the knowledge of ancient magic carefully kept between the staff (excluding Black). Not to mention the whole bit about a rather clandestine student-professor romance. So, she instead decided to store the parchment in her office/bedroom, hidden away from prying eyes. 

“I’m only leaving for a short moment,” she called over her shoulder, “do try to control yourselves.”

Aesop only rolled his eyes and finally threw the blanket off his person, once more revealing himself to his sweetheart. However, before he could as much as reach for his pants, he made a stop. The young woman stepped closer before lowering herself to her knees before him.

“Darling…” he breathed out, his hand coming up to stroke her cheek as if on its own. She leaned into his touch shortly before dropping her head and dragging her nose over the parts of his scar that weren’t painful to touch. She proceeded to kiss them as well, something Aesop would never have imagined anyone would ever do.

“You know, when I was down there, talking with the former Headmistress,” she whispered, pressing one last kiss to the damaged skin before carefully resting her chin upon his thigh, “she said that every spell is, essentially, a wish. A wizard or a witch can go around waving their wand and shouting incantations, but it’ll be for nothing if they don’t wish to perform the spell, if they don’t wish to levitate or summon this and that. And that night... Although the magic happened by accident, my wish behind it was intentional. I love you deeply... What I wanted more than anything was to alleviate your pain, I wanted you to feel as good as you were making me feel. I truly meant what I said - I would love you under any circumstances, even if you were to limp for the rest of our lives. But I would be happiest if you didn't have to endure that pain. And I think that is the difference between what happened with Isidora Morganach and her father and the two of us… Isidora, she took. But me, I gave you a part of myself. And I want nothing else than to give myself to you in the entirety. If you want me…”

Aesop used all of his strength to pull the girl up from the ground then. He oftentimes thought himself cynical. Cynical, battle-hardened, life-toughened former Auror. This young woman, however, was able to do so few could. Slip by his defences using nothing but her honesty. Her kindness. Her love. And each time it got him hopelessly drunk on the feeling. He pulled her into his lap and chased her lips in a desperate kiss, whispering words of love each time he had to pull back for a breath. And just as she promised to give herself to him entirely, he promised to always strive to prove he was worthy of her, no matter if he was walking or limping.

Several minutes and many tender kisses later, there came a voice from behind the privacy screen.

“Please tell me you managed to put your pants on at least…”

—

“Alright, how is this?” the professor asked, breathing through the discomfort of forcing himself to walk in a way his muscles weren’t used to - normally, that is. He was partially leaning against his beloved, something he hoped would change soon, but his step was quite measured and fluid. There was the occasional lighter step, but other than that, the teacher was fairly certain he was doing a pretty alright job. “You’re doing brilliant, Aesop,” his sweetheart said softly, her smile obvious in her voice.

For the past few weeks, whenever the two of them found the time to be together following a dinner in the Great Hall, instead of immediately retiring into Aesop’s chambers, they shared a short walk around the Hogwarts grounds. They both knew paths nobody frequented after darkness fell, and they used it to their advantage. The potions master felt stronger every day. That is, he never truly felt weak, but his limp undeniably slowed him down. Upon Noreen��s insistence, he used his cane to get around during the day and further worked on regaining his strength. The results were visible already - his colleagues commented on his limp becoming smaller, his face not being as screwed up in pain every time he was faced with stairs. Stairs were still a problem, but each ascent and descent served to motivate Aesop further. 

The pale patch on his leg grew more pronounced, more visible - its pattern was undeniable now, and his scar turned entirely pink from the raw red. He no longer felt the pain of the curse, something he wouldn’t have thought at all possible a mere month ago. He stood taller, prouder. But most of all, he was grateful. Overwhelmingly so. Every single day he woke up, no matter if the sun shone into his bedroom from the other room or cats and dogs were raining outside, each morning he woke up, moved his leg, and realised that he didn’t feel the oh so familiar ache, he couldn’t help but grin like an absolute loon. And on those blessed mornings he woke up with his arms full of his beloved’s deliciously smelling body, he buried his face into her neck, prompting her to giggle at the prickly sensation of his beard on her soft skin.

It would take some more time for him to fully heal, to be able to walk like he had those nearly thirteen years ago, but Aesop was prepared to do whatever it took. After all, he did want his beloved to be able to lean against him for a change.

And, just like her, he wanted to give himself over to her fully.

Entirely.

---

thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. You can check this story as well as all of my other stories over on AO3 as well ❤

[yupher]

earth-42 Miles Morales x GN! reader

The day it all started

or Drabble about how you and miles became close (kind of)

Warnings: Miles is aloof and distant thanks to his canon events in this universe. Reader is overbearing (just a tad) and has a one-sided rivalry with Miles. Mentions of blood and injuries. Mentions of death. Enemies to friends to??

P.S.: I wrote this with a male reader in mind, turned out gender-neutral and stick to it. English is not my first language so excuse any spelling or redaction mistakes. This is my first post yay!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

• Everything started in freshman year, you and Miles both won a spot in the prestigious private school Brooklyn Visions Academy.

• You’re both equally intelligent, having passed the entry test with perfect scores.

• You earned this.

• You’ve been academically competitive all your life, this opportunity was the way to prove your worth and you weren’t going to lose it.

• Miles didn’t want to go there, he preferred to stay at his old school.

• He didn’t need a bunch of snobby and stuck-up kids to look him weird.

• He also had a lot going on, his uncle granted him more responsibility on missions, and even helped him build his own mask

• He was chasing his full potential.

• You both were cranky at the beginning, not interacting with one another at all.

• He kept to himself, preferring to be alone rather than bothered.

• You seemed to attract people unintended, they drifted to you.

• You had a handful of acquaintances now, it became useful for team projects and other things.

The day you first interacted with Miles was a Tuesday, the routine was easy. You share History and social studies on the first block. You sit in the second row, he sits in the back.

Mister Fujita started the lesson with a brief summary of the latest class and told everyone the next mark would be an essay, done in duos. You rolled your eyes discretely- working with other people was simply troubling it only brought problems. While you thought of who would you ask to be with you the professor said he would be the one to make the pairs.

Miles was sitting with crossed arms, his usual resting face (that his mom told him numerous times was unfriendly) and his leg bouncing up and down. He was on edge. Today was the anniversary of his father's death. He wasn't exactly putting a lot of attention to what the Professor was saying, only coming back from the deep of his thoughts when he heard his name being called.

Alongside yours.

You could only sigh in frustration, turning around to look for him between the numerous students. To your surprise, his hard gaze was already on you, it made you shiver slightly. You fixed your eyes on the board as Mr. Fujita kept giving the directions for the essay. You dammed yourself, knowing you couldn't escape this.

When the professor sent everyone to organize the essay with their pair at the end of the lecture, you grudgingly stood up to go and talk with Morales. You ignored the pitiful looks some of your classmates sent you, it was futile to give them any more reasons to pity you right now.

Stopping in front of his seat, you made an effort to look at him. Again his eyes found you first, following you since you raised from your chair.

“I have a free period from 12 to 2- if you have the time we can go to the study hall to sort this out.” your words sound robotic. As if you studied them a hundred times to make them sound as neutral as possible.

Miles was fidgeting with his pencil, hardly paying you any mind. He seemed nonchalant as always and it bothered you. You were about to talk again when he interrupted you. “I also have that block free.” was his only response, eyes unmoving and unbothered by your presence.

“Good.” it was dry, your lips a thin line as you nodded. God, what was his deal? “Don't be late.” was the last thing you said before going back to retrieve your things and leave for your next class.

As you left the classroom with everyone else, Miles observed unblinking your every move. He could feel the headache you were about to be for the next week.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

11:56 am

You strode through the hallways, not wanting to be late for your study meeting and give Miles the satisfaction of winning this.

As you rounded a corner you collided with a hard surface. You bounced a few steps back but not enough to make you fall, you huffed and smoothed over your uniform jacket. “I'm sorry for the-” words died on your tongue. Miles stood there, staring rigidly. He only gives you a once-over and enters the study hall, you tail after him with notorious displeasure. He sits at an empty table and starts to pull his things out of his backpack. You mimic him and pull out the course books, opening them to show him some topics of interest.

“I thought we could focus on the lack of civic infrastructure in the country-” Miles couldn't bring himself to listen to your babbling. He was tired, eyebags dark and present on his drained face. Sleep didn't come as easy as it used to.

His only focus was trying to leave unnoticed after your meeting, to go to his uncle's flat. He couldn't concentrate today, he needed something else to try and distract him from the simmering agitation in his chest.

You stopped talking a minute ago, noting his absent stare and the way he didn't even knowledge your attempts to make this project work, he was just sitting there, ignoring you completely.

He was taken back to the present when he saw your infuriated stare and your hand waving in front of him. “Did you even listen to what I said?” your tone was surely a clue, you were mad.

“I didn't-” “No, you didn't listen to anything I said for the past ten minutes. If you don't want to work through this essay with me I'm fine doing it alone- believe me, I'll do better without you weighing me down.” Both of you were breathing heavily, the tension palpable for all the students that were close enough to hear you.

“If you want to procrastinate you won't do well, trust me, Morales you'll-” Miles only saw red. He didn't process what happened till he saw the blood flowing down your nose.

The rest came in a blur.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

He was looking at you with narrowed eyes, maybe thanks to the bruise that was starting to take form on his left side, or maybe was the loathing he felt at the moment. Busted lip and black eye, his uncle would laugh at his face for letting you land those punches at him.

You weren't meeting his gaze, instead, you focused on keeping your nose tucked down, a cloth on your nostrils preventing more blood to stream down. There was blood on your jacket and shirt, on your trousers, and even on your socks. You could feel his burning gaze on you, he was fuming.

You were sitting outside the principal's office, his mom and your dad inside talking while you waited. Everyone that passed by could guess what happened between you two. The rumors started to flow through the school hallways, they weren't any good.

Miles felt foolish, how could his feelings get a hold of him like that? He was an idiot. But the anger he harbored toward himself was also directed at you, you and your big mouth- never ceasing. He never put that much attention on you, he knew that both of you were new at the academy but he never engaged in conversation with, well- anyone.

Meanwhile, you were having a mental breakdown. You'll probably get expelled. All the hard work; the sweat, the tears, the blood. Was for nothing. Down to fucking dust. Were you dramatic? A little, but it was your academic future you were talking about. It WAS that serious. The taste of iron left on your mouth felt utterly appalling at the moment. A constant reminder of your irrational thinking that lead you right here, sitting in front of the asshole that broke your nose.

Finally you gazed up at him, his injuries angrily adorning his already threatening look.

“¿Qué mierda miras?” he pointed his chin towards you, hushedly as he tried to contain his wrath.

The door opened before you could answer him, both your parents leaving while the principal escorted them out.

It was dead silent, each one leaving with their respective guardian. You sent a last look to the other, filled with resentment.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Speed fast to next Tuesday

You woke up early to try and explain to Professor Fujita why you were turning in the essay alone. Uniform clean and tidy, you left in utter silence wishing you didn't wake up your roommate.

When passing the massive windows of the academy, you glanced at your reflection. Your eyebags were no longer bruised, nose looked better than before- that's what your dad said at least. Even if you tried to forget what happened a week ago the remnants of the brawl still taint your face. It was the fight for a great part of the school population and suddenly, everyone knew your name! How vapid they were to only care about quarrels between students. Maybe it was because Miles also didn't divulge anything about what happened in the study hall- the secrecy of it all peaking their attention.

And Miles, you avoided him any chance you got even in the classes you shared; you arrived first and left first, didn't spare him a glance even. The reality was you were ashamed of your behavior that day. After a day of pondering and a long scolding from your father, he told you about how dreadful that day was for Miles and explained to you what happened for him to act that way. It only deepened your shame. You didn't know how to apologize to him for that, you didn't know how to begin. So you decided to avoid him, he probably didn't want to see you anyways. He most definitely hated your guts.

When you arrived at the classroom you weren't at all surprised it was empty, you'll wait for Mr. Fujita anyway. What did surprise you though was seeing Miles come a minute after you, the sun casting on his face and making his eyes squint. The black of his eye was no longer visible, the only leftover of the fight was the scarred bottom lip you gave him. You rapidly fixed your eyes on your table, nervously waiting for him to make his way to the back of the room. But he never did. Instead, he dropped his backpack on the table beside yours, pulling the chair out to sit down.

Miles looked towards you only to see your eyes glued to the wooden table, he raised his brows and exhaled loudly. He could swear he saw you glance his way. He turned his body in your direction, eyes focused.

“Hey.” he called, sounding detached. You stir up on your seat and knowledge him with a curt nod, he sighs.

He tilts his head to the side, contemplating if he was willing to leap into this. “Look, I already give Mr. Fujita our essay-”

“You did what?” He cursed under his breath, the pure look of distress on your face was enough for him to reevaluate his whole speech.

“I thought it would be a good thing! I'm trying to apologize here-” “You're not apologizing.” “Could you let me finish for an instance?” his accent grew ticker when he was mad, you could tell.

You looked up at him, eyes doubtful with every move. He seemed utterly serious, not like he wasn’t daily, but the hardness of his stare holds something different this time: Determination. You nod your head, signaling for him to continue. He relaxed on the seat, letting his shoulders fall defeatedly to his sides.

“I'm sorry for what I did. I shouldn't have resorted to punching you in the face and I didn't mean to break your nose. Mierda- look, it wasn't my best moment, but I know what I did was wrong and I shouldn't have let my frustration out on you.” his eyes searched for a reaction, you barely could process his words when you started to talk.

“I was out of place. Acted like a shithead and started to berate you as if I knew more as if I was better- I'm not.” you paused to compose yourself, your hands trembling with uncertainty. “I'm sorry for what I did too, your face and what I said.” you clarify.

There's an uncomfortable quietness invading the room, but Miles starts to laugh out of nowhere. It scared you for a second, his laugh was something foreign to you. But it was contagious. And soon enough you cracked up with him.

He stops only to smile teasingly at you, gaze still intimidating though. “You have a mean left hook bro, got me struggling to try and beat you up.”

“You kidding? Man, you broke my nose! How could I compete with that?” you follow his bait and soon enough, he's listening to you tell him all about the medical procedure you had to endure to fix your nose.

He may appear unconcerned about your retelling, but Miles is listening attentively. Every detail makes it deep into his mind, eyes fixing on the way your hands move to narrate the story with you.

You didn't have the best start, but it seems now the two of you may become well acquainted with each other.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“¿Que mierda miras?”: the fuck you looking at?

[stillfrownyclownlol]

Lgbtqia+ hcs because I don't know if I'm gonna make it till June lmao (or, if I'm gonna live after it since I'm planning on wearing my flags In public 🤡)

Tw for csa mentions (because why don't I keep projecting huh)

Ashlyn Banner

-She/Her but in a "never thought about pronouns her entire life" kinda way. Doesn't mind they/them. She likes dressing masc/feeling masc, but doesn't really like being "perceived" as masc. Like...masc on her own time lmao. (I'm projecting so hard rn). "Gender neutral" kinda- like agender- but like in a "I don't care about my gender at all I just am more used to the gender they assigned me at birth"

-Demi rose 🌹 I'm also projecting here. Takes her a while to come into her feelings, but maybe that's the "never had friends ever" coming through.

Aiden Clark

-he/him but like he won't care if you use smth else for him lol. Cis gnc kinda guy eyyyyy (better in heels than ashlyn)

-unlabeled and that's how he likes it, nobody's business who he likes kissing lol. I feel like he's kissed a guy before just to try it. On the aro-allo spectrum ngl.

Ben Clark

-He/Him, is fine with They/Them. Honestly likes getting called She/Her too but she's been pretty shy about mentioning it :") Taylor likes doing her makeup if they're having a "femme-day". Settled on genderfluid/genderflux after a while.

-Greyromantic Caedsexual (Ace). Shane was part of a group of slightly older kids, and when he was getting bullied Shane and some other kids sexually assaulted him multiple times...technically was a queer assault since Ben was seen as a sissy because his personality and hobbies were "feminine", and this was to goad him into having a physical reaction :/

Taylor Hernández

(Ngl I'm so annoyed there's not more colors but whatever)

-She/Her and They/Them, identified as cis for a long time since it was what they knew, but once she learned more about it she experimented with her gender a lot more, they identified as non-binary for a while before moving to paragirl.

-Pan to aro/ace pipeline because I'm projecting :) she didn't really handle it well at the beginning, but Ben, Ash and Aiden are all also a-spec so she had a lot of support ^_^ They felt "invalid" because of the csa they went through when they were younger and they thought it was more like a trauma response than their actual sexuality. After talking with Ben about it tho she understood that even if they were related that didn't make her any less valid.

Tyler Hernández

-He/Him cis guy I'm sorry/lh

-was kinda annoying about queer people because actually being raised as a Catholic Mexican boy makes you kinda weird (IM SORRY THIS IS JUST FROM PERSONAL EXPERIENCE) BUT he gets better I promise

-Bisexual boyfailure and took him crushing on Logan to accept it 🤡

Logan Fields

-He/Him and a bit of a stickler about it because he gets misgendered rather frequently (less as he got older but still), doesn't mind getting called gendered terms tho (Taylor calls him "sis", and he calls himself an "Astrology girl")

-intersex, found out when he was 15ish since his puberty had been delayed, and he's really insecure about it...🙃 he was assigned male at birth so he wouldn't say he's trans, but his experiences overlap a fair bit. Takes testorone and medication because he has low electrolytes. I could write a whole essay here but I have to go soon 😭

-Gay :> He realized pretty quickly but he's intensely scared of people finding out, has only told his grandparents. They took it very well ^_^ His grandpa has some gay friends so sometimes Logan goes to the senior center to talk with them about stuff :)

[mastersoftheair]

ok, so my own final (and very, very fresh) thoughts, bc i wanted to wait until i'd watched everything to make a sweeping opinion of the whole series, and it's quite opinionated. and long. probably too long. i write essays for fun (everyone point and laugh):

my personal (and very, very fresh) ranking of the hbo war shows (not including gen kill bc that's a different war, sorry) goes- band of brothers > masters of the air > the pacific (it's the same for my title score rankings. that hasn't changed yet)

my main points of contention with MotA are 1) the nine episodes, 2) the length of the episodes, and 3) certain editing choices. nine episodes, compared to the classic ten, isn't Nearly enough time to showcase all that they wanna showcase (especially when the episodes are as short as they are, once you get past the recap and "next on" parts). and they wanna showcase A Lot! there so much going on! i'd ask them to pace themselves, but they literally Can't!

i mean, the editing choices are a Whole Thing! practically gives me whiplash sometimes lol. i feel like the weaker episodes still have parts that are Really good, but like. Individually. they don't work together as a stronger whole, which is to the episode's detriment. rather than jumping around (as the show often did), they could've benefited a lot from focusing on the One Story instead of squeezing three more stories into there (i say that, but i think the 4-5-6 episode run (all with multiple stories per episode) did this very well while Still being very good episodes, so it's not like it Can't be done, it just didn't work for 7, 8 and (partly) 9). granted, i suspect a chunk of the weird editing can be blamed on, well, there being only nine (and not all that long) episodes and no one wanting to cough up enough money for a tenth. ugh! i'm blaming both hbo And appletv for this (and covid19 ig). it's just One More Episode, how much could it cost?? and on the subject of episodes, why no episode titles? you used to love episode titles! i could've brainstormed episode titles for them For Free!!

when it comes to the characters, the rankings remain the same: BoB > MotA > TP. it's not totally fair tho, since BoB followed the exact same (and large-ish) group of guys from beginning to end, so you're Gonna know who they all are and get attached. this wasn't the case (for me!) when watching TP, since, unlike BoB, they jump around from group to group. i never felt like i got to know them all that well, outside of the main characters. i think MotA almost hits that sweet spot, especially knowing they had those two main things going against it: large cast And jumping from group to group. there's a case to be made for bias here (i Was the blog blogging about everything MotA for like. years.), but i still think they found a good enough balance of fleshing out the main characters while Also helping the audience get to know about a bunch of minor characters, of which there are a shitton (and their personalities, motivations, backgrounds, quirks).

there's also the representation of women. actual angel renée lemaire is and will always be a cut above the rest (bastogne is just That Good, argue with the wall). she's written so well that it almost makes me forget about how a bunch of women are portrayed in carentan. i have...issues with how women are portrayed in TP (even tho i love lena), so there's that. MotA falls in the middle (again) bc there's Way more women on-screen, but the writing can be questionable. balanced (as all things should be?) captain l'sandra wing-westgate is a character of all time, but episode 7 birthed the craziest discourse known to man (the hbo war fandom), but it wasn't all that unwarranted. manon and michou were sooo cool, but we didn't see nearly enough of them (another victim of the 'editing too many stories into one episode' problem. why not a whole resistance episode? or at least as the only b-plot?). paulina was interesting, but fulfilled one of those 'attractive foreign woman gives sage advice during/after sex' tropes (there's probably a tvtropes page for that idk). so many red cross girls, but none of the in-depth payoff :/ epic highs (multiple women!!) + epic lows (writing women??) = pretty tolerable. not great, not terrible. it was aight. i trust the fandom to build on this tho.

narrative is the big one tho. it's the whole "doing so much with so little" thing they've got going on (i'm ignoring their big budget here lol, could've been bigger). rather than having one main story with many connecting side stories (like BoB), it does the TP thing where there's many semi-connecting side stories set in the same general area. it helps that there's crosby's narration (i enjoy narration, sue me!), and he helps everything connect, sorta. but there's still other side stories that have Nothing to do with him (sandra's side gigs (revealing what she did takes away the mystery of what she Might be doing), the tuskegee airmen, quinn and bailey's eurotrip). would it have helped if there were two narrators (say, someone like rosie)? idk. gonna sit with that one. if there's a through-line, it's not super obvious like in the other two shows. which is insanely funny to me bc i literally like TP less, but that show's got an Extremely tight through-line all the way down. i can't lie and say it doesn't!

back to budget- i've seen people criticize this show for being called "masters of the air" when there's not much of "the air". ig that's fair, but there's the money issue, again. also, it'd get very repetitive if they were always in "the air". there was enough confusion about identifying who was who with the masks on, so imagine if that was Every Episode. out of All the issues the show has, this is the least issue-y. again, that's just my opinion, and it could change.

another budget thing (i think??)- idk enough about costuming and hair for period pieces so i can't comment on that with my 0 background in it, all i Can say is that i knoooooow people were clowning on marjorie cleven's hair in episode 1 (and i could see why, no such thing as 1940s beach waves). but from what i could understand- that actress' addition was a last-minute thing (bc i had No idea who the hell she was and i already found someone cast for marjorie all the way back in 2021). maybe there's something to say about the quality of rush jobs, but i really do think it was the most last-minute thing bc it came out of Nowhere, and timeline-wise, it looks like that bit was done long after everything else had been filmed. outside looking in, it seems something probably went wrong/didn't work out with who or what they already had and there wasn't enough wiggle room (time and money) to fix it. this isn't me being an apologist (lol), but i feel like a theorist at a big board bc nothing adds up! and i wanna know what happened! i'm just speculating! speculating on this blog is All i did for like Years lmaooo.

this is more of a side thing, but some of the lines in MotA feel really on-the-nose, almost corny. and that was Gonna be a knock against it, but there's some equally Extremely on-the-nose lines in both BoB and TP (Especially in BoB), so if i give MotA shit for it, i'd have to give all three shows shit for it lol. none of them are free of cheese.

another silly aside- no peaches, no main gingers, no main eugenes! we can't have 'em all, but c'mon!

there Is some good tho lol. one thing that MotA really has going for it, that i think the other shows have less of, is- and GOD it feels so weird to call this "world-building" when it's actual goddamn history, but- it's got world-building. maybe that isn't the best word for it. but i like how much Bigger ww2 feels in this show. BoB is one stop, then the next stop, then the next stop, which is, admittedly, good from a narrative-perspective (easy to follow), but not as good when you want a scale of how devastating the war is (in fairness, it was filmed in 2000). even TP feels pretty "enclosed" in a way. there's island-hopping, yeah, but all the damn islands look the same (not including australia lol). it's a theatre of the war we otherwise don't really get to see, but there still isn't all that much to see. it's water and sand and rock and dirt. which is the point, but Whatever! would've been cool if we saw sledge and co. in china, but moving on. MotA's able to really show the scale of it, both in the air and on the ground (that scene in germany during episode 6 was both harrowing and fantastic, also the inclusion of the actual children forced to fight nearer to the war's end in the finale). idk i just liked how it was able to zoom in and zoom out (and in and out again) in a way that the other shows weren't.

another thing it's got that the other shows don't is Really driving home how young everyone is (not "child soldier" young, but damn young). the cast is full of baby faces (rip babyface). a lot of ww2 shows/movies don't bother casting to reflect this, but i think overlooking that takes away from the overall impact. you browse through some old newspaper articles or photos of soldiers during ww2 enough and you're gonna Regularly get hit with the face of someone who looks like they could've sat in the desk next to you during a high school lit class. a lot of those b&w grinning faces look like kids bc they pretty much were (more so if they lied about their age). you don't really get that in BoB or TP (it's Crazy when the real life pics of the soldiers portrayed in those shows look younger than the actors).

i'm mixed about the tuskegee airmen. what we have, i love (thank you, dee rees). unfortunately, my biggest irk is that it leaves me wanting more of them, which i won't ever get. speaking as a black person (not speaking for All black people, just how i personally feel about it), having them included feels like a catch-22. if they weren't included in any capacity (all while knowing there were whole tuskegee airmen in stalag iii with the white main characters), there'd be a problem. however, including them (all while having these time constraints and not enough focus on them) leads to the feeling of having them "tokenized" (which i can see). there's no world where there'd be 50/50 split (even a 70/30 split) bc, at that point, just give them a show of their own. but there'd still be a general annoyance that big budget ww2 shows are only ever white. on the other hand, hanks and spielberg and orloff and miller and all the directors (except dee rees) are white, and how good of a story about black people are you really gonna get from the perspective of nonblack people? that in mind, i personally don't feel put-off by having the three tuskegee airmen in the posters/trailers/promos, bc i just Know there'd be a whole nother problem if they weren't included in them at all despite being in the show for however long (it'd be even worse if they made their pictures smaller). like i don't work in advertising, but i don't know if a "sweet spot" even exists for something like this. people would be pissed off no matter what imo (i'm also speaking with a bias here bc i had to browse through sooooo many comments written by white guys whining and crying and pissing and shitting themselves once they learned that the tuskegee airmen were gonna be in the show in Any capacity, so i'm just cool knowing they're in shambles rn (and josiah cross- he played richard macon- always goes Wild seeing his face in the promos, and his joy is pretty contagious).

i give it somewhere like a 7.5-8/10. 3.75 stars out of 5. not perfect, subject to change, gotta marinate, but i'm overall happy with it! MotA's best episodes are better than many other individual hbo war episodes. should i be grading it using the overall sum of its parts, not just the different parts? idk, i'm not being paid to grade lol.

[ghostoffuturespast]

Works In Progress 2023: A Cyberpunk 2077 Year In Review

I thought for a hot minute about doing one of those snazzy templates that’s been going around, but editing photos just ain’t my MO and rather than going by month I picked 12 favs that I’ve posted in 2023. Some of them were popular, some of them weren't. Overall, I think I did pretty good for just doing vanilla photomode on console.

You might be wondering why there's a picture of a sticky note. I don't remember when I started doing this, and I'm horribly inconsistent as you can see by the dates, but I'll jot down my word count for my wip chapter and then jot it down again when I remember to later.

I write slow. A lot of times I sit down to write and it feels like the wheels are spinning in place. My minutes and hours don't stretch very far, typically don't add up to much. But days, weeks, months. That's when I can at least measure the progress.

Fic: So It Goes 40/44 - 438,946 words

My V x River Ward and tinfoil hat conspiracy theory long fic. I've spent way more hours on this then I have on any of my VP.

I got tagged by @just-a-cybercroissant @therealnightcity and @wanderingaldecaldo to do some WIP Whenevers. I post my VP pretty regularly, so it’s always seemed silly to do work in progress posts for them, and I don’t know when I’ll have any new writing to share since in between work and the holidays, I haven’t had much time to sit down with anything since my last chapter update. And I've been feeling very... stingy, lately. Especially when it comes to mine and other people's writing. So take this WIP/Year In Review as my offering. Both these series, as am I, are all very much still works in progress. 

I confined my reflections for this year below the cut. If you don’t want to read my long-ass essays, you can admire the pictures, maybe check out my fic, or just move along and have yourself a lovely day.

We’ll start with the easy one.

VP

After at least a year of multiple playthroughs (I’ve played all the lifepaths, done all the endings), it only occurred to me at the beginning of this year to start taking VP. Part of the reason I never did before was because I didn’t realize it was a thing and then by the time I did, I figured I didn’t have much to offer. I play on PS5 and only have access to vanilla photomode, so seeing everyone else’s high-fidelity, ultra ray-tracing, modded, posed, full on virtual photo shoot photos, I was like there’s no way. (Not that I’m hating on PC modders, it’s just not everyone has access to mods or a PC capable of running the game, and I’m all for making art and creative endeavors accessible.) On top of that, all I’d ever heard from most other folks was how much vanilla photomode sucked. In the glamorous world of VP, I didn’t think there was any room for me.

But I started snapping pics anyway. And sure, there are a lot of limitations with vanilla photomode. But what that really translates to is opportunities to get creative. I am also a hoe for subverting people’s expectations, and very much believe when there’s a will, there’s a way.

Environmental and landscape shots were my first subjects before I started branching out into portraits and then capturing story moments. Through VP I found an entirely new way to enjoy a game that I’d already played a ridiculous number of times along with also finally being brave enough to share my V with other people too. I’d always worried about that before, if people would like her. Granted, I know Grandpa’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but whether you like her or not, I certainly think she’s made a name for herself over the past few months. Even if most people haven’t really gotten to know her the way I’d hoped. 

I’ve taken hundreds of photos this past year. Most of which I’ll never share. There’s a lot of flops, a lot of weird experiments, ones that didn’t quite turn out the way I’d hoped, but I’ve learned something from every single one of them. I know how to spot good lighting, frame shots to create optical illusions, get a very limited toolkit to work in my favor, parkoured on all of the things, and heck, I even figured out how to make Grandpa smooch other NPCs. I’ve done atmospheric, mundane, down right goofy, as well as things that most people probably thought weren’t fucking possible.

I can’t say how long I’ll keep doing this, I’m sure I’ll move on at some point, but for now I’m still enjoying myself. There's a lot to explore in this game and I just can’t stop digging Night City.

Now, for the more complicated thing.

Writing

So It Goes… My peace, my war, my greedy and most ravenous of ghosts.

I’m operating under the assumption that most people following me here probably haven't read my fic or aren’t all that interested in reading it to begin with. It’s fine. But you need to understand this fic, my writing, is the main thing that brought me here. This is also Grandpa V’s story. Most of you have met her, but unless you've been reading, most of you do not know her.

I wrote around 185,000 words and posted 10 chapters this year. 2022 was about 253,000 words and 30 chapters, along with several unrelated one shots. However, I don’t think I’ve done a single chapter this year that was less then 10k, and my longest managed to hit 27k. As of the last update I posted, the fic is currently sitting at around 439k words, 40 chapters, and still isn’t done.

I have four more chapters to write. I have written a metric shit ton of words. This is, by far, the longest and most intense creative project I’ve ever endeavored to complete.

When I started writing, I was expecting this fic to be around 100-150k. That seemed to be the average for most long fics. I did not plan on being an outlier. I'm not sure you can ever really plan for that, but I guess I enjoy subverting my own expectations too.

For those of you who are reading my fic, it is my sincerest hope that it shatters every expectation of where you think it’s going. It’s not a joke that I tagged my fic “#an ode to my tinfoil hat”. An ode it has turned out to be. I’ve been sitting on this theory for two years. I have told no one about it. I hope it sticks the landing and hits the way I want it to. I don't know if it will. But fuck, I just want to be done with it so I can move on with my life, take a break, and give myself the opportunity to make and focus on other things before I have to get back on the damn horse.

I wrote less this past year then I did in 2022. I had a lot of life changes, most of which were good, but with times of change come times of adjustment. Along with some realizations that maybe you don’t understand as much as you thought you did. Looking back, I’ve been in a state of unsettled, kuzushi, for a really long time. Which is not a good place to be. It’s how your ass ends up on the ground with a knee knocking out all your teeth. I thought I knew better. Thought I had enough practice to get away from it. But bad habits have good memories.

I think given the circumstances, I accomplished a lot with my writing this year. I don’t know if my writing is exactly where I want it to be. I doubt it every will be, but it’s evolved, grown, and I wrote a pretty hefty stack of words considering I started working full-time again, bought a house with my partner, moved, and have been dealing with the millions of other beans that life tends to throw one’s way. That being said, and for full disclosure, I’ve also been dealing with some of the worst cases of jealousy and envy I’ve had since I was a teenager. 

Frankly, it sucks. They walk with me every fucking where I go, hold my hands to whisper back all my doubts. Try to persuade me to my baser instincts, to be cruel and lash out. But that's not aikido. Luckily, I’m not 16 anymore so it’s at least been easier for me to identify the problem. Though I’m still coming up short in terms of actually being able to do anything about it, and will be for at least a few months more. 

Yeah, I keep talking about it because I don’t know how many people know that I've been feeling this way. And I’m tired of not talking about it in a room full of creatives, because yeah, I know I’m not the only one that feels this way. And not talking about it just makes all that pent up resentment worse for everyone.

Don’t get me wrong, I love writing. But with the way I work and think, it’s a slow, tedious, and incredibly time-consuming art. With how much my fic has snowballed over the course of writing, it’s left very little room for the other hobbies in my life. And as my fellow writers probably already know, writing is an incredibly insular craft. And unlike a picture or an image, which only requires a glance, reading a bunch of words requires time and commitment.

So, when you put yourself out there and share what you wrote, it’s a lonely feeling not knowing whether or not anyone connected with what you put on the page. Especially, when the people who do read aren’t compelled to voice anything and when the people you’d hope would read don’t. And then you're stuck in the dark, not knowing, because neither of us says a goddamn thing.

I started writing this fic prior to actually joining the CP2077 fandom. And I joined the fandom because I felt alone. I’ve been here a while now, albeit in a few different places, and that feeling still hasn’t gone away. I’m still trying to find camaraderie with my fellow writers and carve out something that kinda sort of resembles a home or a sense of community. I watch my peers around me as they seem to build that with each other, except me.

I’m envious of the things that people make and jealous of the relationships those have created and fostered between said people, because for the life of me, it’s been a struggle to cultivate that since I got here. I know it’s selfish, but I also don’t know what about me makes people so hesitant. There have been a handful of strangers that have shown up for me regularly, but as far as people I call friends in this fandom that have shown up and actually stuck around, I can only name one right now. (I know we're all busy. And I acknowledge my writing's not for everyone. I know maybe some of you are quiet, or shy, or probably a thousand other things. I get it. But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt any less. People will never know unless you say. Never know unless you take the time to interact or engage. Be brave. And that's true for a lot of things.)

The propensity is for the negative to outweigh the positive. I've got a lot of numbers on my fic, so you would think things would be fine, but at this point they just feel empty. They don't bring me any comfort or real satisfaction. And I hate feeling like the people I know don’t care and that most of you are just talking around me. That I’m some kind of annoyance not fit to interact with. Which may or may not be the case. I don’t know. Again, most of you have never said anything. And maybe I need to accept the fact that most of you never will.

But this is me trying to start conversation.

It’s really shitty, knowing that the thing I want the most is also the thing holding me back. I know how to work on it too, not that it’s any guarantee. The problem is I’m still writing and in a needy state of greed. And because I’m slow, I don’t have the time or the energy to be generous. I can only take right now. I can’t give. 

Relationships require both.

I can’t bring myself to read other people’s writing. I can’t comment, or like, or share if I haven’t read anything. I'm desperate for conversation, but I also don't have the time or assurance to facilitate it with other people right now. And for some reason people never seem to want to talk to me, especially when it comes to writing. I want to be part of conversations, talk deeply with other people. But I can’t speak right now, I'm not in a place to offer generosity without someone first giving it to me.

And generosity and grace is what we all need.

Four more chapters and I hope my ghosts will finally let me read in peace.

[greghatecrimes]

i always want to read autistic!Thirteen essays <3

⚡️

Lightning anon my beloved <3 <3 (Seriously, I always smile when I get an ask from you!) For you, here are the beginnings of my notes on autistic!Thirteen!

For these I worked off of a community-made list of traits commonly found in AFAB people diagnosed with autism. (Said post really helped me out when I was puzzling out if I was autistic or not as well as debating whether or not to seek diagnosis. So it's not anything official like the DSM, but it was written by autistic AFAB people, for autistic AFAB people, and myself and Thirteen would both fall into that category).

[Editing to link: Part 1.5, 2]

First: Traits with Canonical Support/Evidence

Tends to analyze everything constantly. She’s at least always analyzing the behaviors of House & the team, especially in season four when she's still getting to know them.

Often straightforward and practical in nature. (Especially at work for her. Her work persona is is uber-practical and completely different from the "unmasked" moments of goofiness and fun we see from her with Foreman in season five, and at times with House in season six and seven.)

Prone to honesty, has difficulty lying (When she's had the time to script and practice something in advance, she's great at lying. See her lie to House at the hotel in The Dig and the few episodes in season five where she and Foreman made an elaborate scheme to pretend they had broken up. But when she's flying blind and has no time to prepare? She kind of sucks at lying, à la her excuses to get House off her back in You Don't Want To Know, and when the Foreteen breakup ruse falls apart.)

May struggle to understand manipulation, disloyalty, vindictive behavior and retaliation. (I would say this is something she probably only ran into earlier in life, and sort of 'grew out of' as she gained more life experience. Example: when she was seventeen and didn’t understand that her 30 y/o boyfriend was taking advantage of her/didn't love her until well after the fact.)

May be gullible and easily taken advantage of, misled, or conned. (This one is another earlier in life thing that I think she would 'grow out of'/find ways to work around, same as above. But also? She took a car loan with 12% INTEREST. good lord Thirteen, WHY?? That shouts 'taken advantage of by a car salesperson to me'. So maybe it was something to do with this. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

May have feelings of confusion and isolation in relation to others (To Foreman in Lucky Thirteen: "She hasn't gone anywhere, and I... feel alone.")

Often has slower reaction times due to need for mental processing. (Her and House's exchange in Don't Ever Change: “You do it both ways, right?” Thirteen stares, dead silent, looking utterly shocked. “...The ultrasound, I mean. You do it both ways. Lying down and standing up.” Plus pretty much every other instance of her Deer In The Headlights face lol)

May find math and numbers easier to deal with due to logic and lack of subjective answers. (This one is more 'potentially' rather than concrete. But she did go into medical/STEM field, and in The Dig we find out that she had a knack for science/physics/engineering in high school. She was good enough to place in the top three in the state-wide science fair her junior year. But like always, correlation ≠ causation.)

Often relates discussion back to self/sharing as a means of reaching out. (She does this with Chase a few times in season six! First telling him she started seeing a counselor after her diagnosis and using it to suggest that counseling might help him post-divorce; and then later telling Chase about her 30 y/o boyfriend when he’s mourning his and Cameron’s relationship and wondering if Cameron ever loved him. She also relates with the patients as a way of reaching out, like in Joy when she tries to connect with POTW's daughter. "Must be hard not having your mom around, huh?")

May have difficulty regulating voice volume to different situations. (I’ve noticed that in certain scenes with House, especially when she’s angry, her voice gets much louder than House's does and at a much faster pace. Some prime examples are You Don't Want to Know: "No, you don't know because I don't know!" and later "I might die. So could you, you could get hit by a bus tomorrow! The only difference is you don't have to know about it today, so why should I?" And in Instant Karma when she goes to House's apartment and loudly/firmly starts the conversation with "Stay out of my life!")

May feel misunderstood and tend to over-explain/ramble in an attempt to compensate for possible miscommunication. (in Instant Karma when she's talking with the cab driver: "Bangkok, that sounds awesome. How long?" "Not sure yet." she pauses, realizes the implication of what she's said (her place will be empty for a long time), and then backtracks to say: "Luckily I have a friend who's staying at my place, taking care of my dog. He's really big. So he needs a lot of exercise." Then she starts over explaining herself again (!) directly after when she tries to say to the driver, "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know you. You're either honest or dishonest. I figured the safer choice is to...")

May be highly intuitive to others’ feelings, although may not appear to react to them ‘correctly’ in social situations (In The Dig: House talking about how he was Cuddy’s weird boyfriend, not Lucas → Thirteen realizes a second too late that he’s serious and then can see the sadness/hurt from the breakup. Instead of adhering to the social norm of “I’m sorry”, she blurts out “I killed a man” to distract him from his feelings.)

Often holds great compassion for suffering. (*Points at the whole show in general* She might not always be outwardly gushy about it like Cameron is, but it's there.)

May try to help, offer unsolicited advice, or formalize plans of action. (We see this in her interactions with patients. i.e., reaching out to the kid in The Softer Side and trying to help, completely separate from the team, when she thinks he's suicidal.)

May frequently reject or question social norms. (Lots of her dialogue, much like House's, goes against what the "norm" was in the early 2000s. For example: her discussions with Foreman and later Wilson about bisexuality.)

Tend to say what they mean. Are often brutally honest, coming off as rude when they do not mean to be. (To Kutner asking about her Huntington's in early season five: "If I wanted to talk about it, why didn't I bring it up?" And similarly, with House in Wilson's Heart: "Yeah, I'm at risk for Huntington's. I've dealt with it." "By not getting tested?" "You are the champion of not dealing with your problems. (...) You're screwing up this case worse than I am!" Finally, in Last Resort: the other ducklings talk about how they feel House's arrogance is going to kill someone. Thirteen goes a step further and comes out with the brutal honesty. "You're a coward. You need to know everything because you're afraid to be wrong. You're so afraid of being ordinary, of being just another doctor, just another human being, that you'll risk other people's lives.")

Often speaks frankly and literally.

May notice patterns frequently (basically a prerequisite to work for House, haha!)

May possess a youthful appearance and/or voice. (she looks very young! However, this can also just be attributed to Olivia Wilde being younger than Thirteen was when playing her. Olivia was 24 when they started filming season four; Thirteen was at minimum 29.)

Clothing style is likely more focused on comfort and practicality, especially in the case of sensory issues. (Thirteen occasionally dresses a bit fancier, but most of the time she's far more casual than the rest of the team (save for House). Usually she’s just wearing a comfortable, casual tee shirt and jeans or plain black pants She dresses up her outfits with simple makeup, a necklace, and cute shoes. She dresses much more comfy/casual than Cameron did when she was on the diagnostics team. See: Cameron's suits/vests, etc.)

This is getting so long that I'm gonna need to make another post for part two: traits that don't necessarily have concrete canon evidence, but that I see in her.

[littlegaybean1]

Helo I would absolutely read your essay on Ianto Jones

The people have asked so the people shall receive - here's my 2000+ word essay on Ianto Jones through episodes 1-4. I have another in progress for episode 6 and the audio Broken, which I have not listened to but I have read several different summaries of it.

Ianto Jones's official role in Torchwood Three is the Archivist. However, he acts as general support, receptionist, butler and crime scene cover up in addition to this role. Prior to the episode Countrycide, he remained in the Hub during field operations, however the sixth episode of the first series saw him in his first on-screen field mission. At 23 when the show begins, he is Torchwood's youngest member, however he is far from its least experienced.

Before joining Torchwood Three (Cardiff), Ianto was employed at Torchwood One, the London branch whose downfall is shown in the Doctor Who episodes Army of Ghosts and Doomsday. He originally worked there as a junior researcher, however he also took on the job of Yvonne Hartman's personal assistant. He spent a short time as a junior field agent before returning to work as Hartman's PA. Whilst working there, he met and fell in love with Lisa Hallett, whom he started dating. This becomes significant after One's fall, upon which Ianto becomes one of 27 Torchwood London employees to survive the events, out of over 800. Having grown up in Cardiff, Ianto returned there and convinced Jack Harkness to hire him at Torchwood Three.

Despite being qualified, Ianto had to ask three times on three separate occasions before Harkness eventually gave him the job. By the time the program begins, Ianto has been at Torchwood Cardiff for three months. For the first three episodes he has very little screen time, appearing last out of any Torchwood Cardiff employee. He is first seen when Gwen, the protagonist, arrives at the Torchwood Hub for the first time. In this scene he is acting as a receptionist for the tourist office that is run as a front to the Hub. He is completely separate from the other employees, isolated even within the 5 person team. Rather than introduce him as the archivist, Jack chooses to say "he cleans up after us and gets us everywhere on time." This introduction paints the picture of him as a butler or lower-level employee, rather than someone with five years of experience within the organisation.

This image of him continues, with him appearing in the second episode to provide the team with food and then assist Jack when a prisoner escapes. Other than this, he remains either off screen or in the background, a lonely figure about whom the audience knows very little. He is never presented as one of the team, nor does any member of the team make an effort to include him. The only times in which he is seen in this episode is when he purposely draws attention to himself, something which he only ever does occasionally. He remains in the shadows, not a character who the audience is meant to focus on. Given the constant action and his rare appearances, it is easy to forget that he is ever there, something reinforced by the bold and full personalities of the other characters.

The third episode highlights his role within Torchwood. During the major action scenes, he is nowhere to be found. When they are desperately failing to find Harris, nobody even thinks to call Ianto and see if there's anything he can do at the Hub. He appears almost as comedic relief at some moments, with the "Splott/Sploe" comment being the most notable. He is seen only when he chooses to be, forgotten once more due to the high stakes, fast moving action and dynamics between the other characters. The only hint towards what sort of relationship he has with any member of the team is the tiny tidbits of flirting exchanged between him and Jack on two occasions. Even this tells us next to nothing about he and Jack's relationship, since one of Jack's most renowned characteristics is his constant flirting with any and all adult characters, including robots.

However, the scene that speaks the loudest about his character's role is the very end of the episode. Having understood the full, terrible potential of the Ghost Machine, Jack has Ianto lock it in the secure archives. This would be a tiny thing, considering the fact that Ianto's domain is the archives, if it weren't for the way that he is told to do it. Jack simply says his name and holds it out in Ianto's general direction. He never looks at him, responding only with a nod when Ianto asks "Secure archives?". He treats him not like an archivist, or a survivor or even an employee, but like a servant, someone he pays to do menial tasks for him. He does not see Ianto as someone who he needs to show respect to, and none of the others question it. The entire team is present, but none of them have any reaction to the way that Ianto is treated. Not a single one of them sees a problem with the fact that he is being treated as lesser, or being disrespected. For Gwen, this is understandable since she is dealing with the grief and guilt of being part of a man's death, however Tosh and Owen just act as if this is normal, which leads to the assumption that this is a regular occurrence. Different versions of that interaction must have occurred multiple times over the short period that Ianto had worked there.

Which brings us to Cyberwoman. The very first scene mirrors the end of Ghost Machine - Jack handing something to Ianto without acknowledging him, before immediately turning his attention to someone else. Ianto is left behind whilst everyone else goes out, he is always the outsider, the other. At this point, it is revealed that he has been hiding the remnants of Lisa in his basement, half converted and in pain. Ianto had no way of knowing that Lisa was not still herself, she spoke and acted like any human would if they were injured and dying. Somehow, Ianto was able to smuggle a full conversion unit/life support system and Lisa herself into the Hub without anyone noticing. Whilst he undoubtedly took many precautions to avoid being discovered, the fact remains that he could not have done so if any member of Torchwood Three had paid him any attention. All of them were perceptive, intelligent and presumably able to recognise a cyber conversion unit, this presumption coming from the fact that Owen recognised it, who is neither a tech expert nor the longest serving agent. The only one who wouldn't have been able to identify what it was was Gwen, who wasn't part of Torchwood when Ianto brought Lisa into the Hub. Once more, Ianto was ignored by the rest of Torchwood, fading into the background immediately after the worst event of his life, surrounded by the only people he knew who knew the truth of the "battle".

Later in the episode, Ianto still remains loyal to "Lisa", even though the Cyberwoman no longer has any part of her left. This is what the team, specifically Jack, blames him most for, telling him to "stand as part of the team". However, prior to this, no effort has been seen to involve Ianto as a member of the team, allowing him to become invisible. He was constantly undervalued; they used him as a dogsbody. Lisa had seen him, relied on him and loved him. If they had been thinking logically instead of acting emotionally, they would have realised that there was no reason for Ianto to choose to stand with them and every psychologically based reason for him to try and save Lisa. He lost everyone who could have provided him with support after Canary Wharf at Canary Wharf. Due to the secretive nature of Torchwood, Ianto could not legally tell anyone about the horrors that he experienced there; and the only people who knew shut him out completely. The only person he had left was dying and in agony; and she leaned on him so heavily that he could not lean on her.

Another point to consider is that the way Jack acts around Ianto is entirely based on what suits him. He allows Ianto to become unseen when he has no need of him, but orders him to be part of the team when he is faced with the reality of his treatment of Ianto. This demand is done with Ianto on his knees and a gun to his head. The only motives that Ianto would have had for agreeing were fear of execution and planning a future betrayal. In this scene he is filled with too much rage to be afraid of the threats; and he never had any wish to betray Torchwood Three, his only goal was to heal Lisa. To assume otherwise directly contradicts his actions in future episodes.

What can be considered the cruellest action towards Ianto is the use of Myfanwy to attack the Cyberwoman. Ianto came to the Hub with Myfanwy, named her and was the one who fed her and cleaned her nesting area. For Ianto, Myfanwy would have been something of a very large, dangerous, untamed pet. Something else that he cared about ripped away from him just as brutally as in London. However, what's almost worse than London is that she remains present, still exactly the same but completely different to him. Her existence for Ianto will forever be tainted by the memory of her attacking the Cyberwoman who bore Lisa's face. Such a minor loss at the time compared to Lisa, but nevertheless something he cares about also taken from him.

As if the episode did not already cause Ianto enough emotional anguish, one of the most emotionally charged scenes had not yet come. After Myfanwy’s attack, Ianto attempts to enter the Hub again through the tourist office. Before he has a chance to enter however, the other four members of Torchwood catch him up, leading to him pointing a gun at them and stating that he has “nothing left to lose”. Jack is able to call his bluff and disarm him, pinning him against a wall with a gun to his head once more. What follows is a furious exchange in which Jack demands that Ianto enter the Hub again to execute Lisa if she was not already dead and Ianto refuses, saying that “I won't do it, you can't make me”. His only attempt to defend himself is minor struggling when he is first pinned to the wall, after which he remains still. He has no way of knowing whether or not Jack will actually follow through on his threat “you execute her or I'll execute you both”, meaning that he is fully prepared to die rather than comply. At this point, Ianto has been completely stripped of his humanity - threatened with a deadly weapon, defenceless and being forced to choose between killing what he still sees as the love of his life and dying in defiance, which would do nothing to prevent the Cyberwoman’s execution. He doesn't know if she is already dead, but chooses death over pretending to comply then running or taking the chance that he will not have to shoot her since she could already be dead. He eventually is submissive and goes after her, however it can be safely assumed that his intention was not to kill her but to attempt to save her again. He goes in alone and could easily have run, but he chooses to cling to what he has, the remnants of Lisa.

A dreadful scene awaited him within. The body of Lisa with chunks of flesh torn away from the bones lies in a pool of her own blood; and an unknown woman stands before him. A bloody line is drawn across the woman’s forehead; and she recognises him. She calls to him, revealing the horrific truth of the Cyberwoman's actions. This woman has the body of a young pizza delivery girl, one that Ianto had called here, and the cybernetically modified brain of Lisa Hallett. The bloody line is from where the Cyberwoman had opened her skull, performed a brain transplant and fused the skull pieces back together. This moment truly annihilated any hope Ianto had left, forced him to see that there was nothing of Lisa left in the most brutal of ways. Ianto raised his gun but could not pull the trigger, whatever this monster was still had some of Lisa's memories. By talking of the times Ianto spent with Lisa, the Cyberwoman poisoned those memories. He had lost so much, now even his happy memories have been destroyed for him. Lisa Hallett died at Canary Wharf, but that was the day that her lover’s soul died with her body.

[queer-ragnelle]

the arthuriana essays you share on here are always so interesting and well-researched! are there specific places you go to look for them or do they just kind of find you over time?

Hi anon! This is a complex answer. Research is never simple lol obligatory disclaimer I'm just some random enthusiast and in no way an academic, this is just how I go about it.

I find essays in a variety of places. JSTOR is where most of the stand-alone essays came from (IE; not otherwise published in a book, sometimes in journals I cannot find). I’ve been very fortunate to have friends lend me their college bypass so I could download from there, as I would be unable to access them otherwise.

Sometimes, while reading books, like The Friend by Alan Bray, there will be a reference to an influential essay or article, such as Faithful Unto Death, which describes the joint tomb of Sir John Clanvowe and Sir William Neville. For that paper, a friend had to request it from their own institution, wait for it, and then give it to me. I'd been staring longingly at it for literally years but couldn't justify paying the $30+ asking price for a PDF. I was lucky, once again, to have help.

Another way to find these academic resources is by reading the footnotes or bibliography in the back of books and tracing the source of individual essays or articles back to a bigger collection contributed by a variety of authors contained in a single volume (like A Companion to Malory I shared a few days ago). I learned about Alan Bray specifically because other essayists kept referencing his work! From there, I sought him out. The same has happened as I delved into Zoroastrian studies. The literature there is limited (at least in the English language, as I cannot read Persian or Hindi). So I found myself researching in a circle, following the trail of names until I ran out of scholars and they just referenced each other's work back and forth. I had consumed the entire body of [English] literature on the subject, so I knew I had come to collect the same resources as these essayists and historians had! Once you start going, "Hey, it's my friend [scholar] again!" you know you're in deep haha!

Much the same has happened with Arthurian legend. Norris J Lacy, known for his work as head editor of the translation team that tackled the Vulgate, is everywhere. He's the editor of countless textbooks, translator of medieval poems and prose, and even wrote his own retelling, A Camelot Triptych. Once you find someone in a field of interest that pops up a lot, you can begin searching for relevant resources through their name, rather than relying on blindly sifting through thousands of papers tagged "King Arthur".

Essayists don't make any money on this stuff. Institutions even charge people to publish their work. It's perfectly acceptable to obtain that knowledge however necessary. If you don't have college access yourself nor a friend who can help, there are websites to pirate from. (Please use a VPN to protect yourself.) Some websites are specific to the field, like science, which isn't my expertise, so I can't offer guidance there. But I've had luck on annas-archive.

It can be easy to assume everyone has the same opportunities, that a screenshot or link to JSTOR is sufficient for someone to access the same information mentioned in a post. It's tough when tumblr doesn't let you upload a PDF! It makes sharing resources difficult. One could dedicate money and cloud space to it (like I do with Google and MEGA drive) or upload it to a discord server where it can't breach containment and reaches only a limited audience. It's not ideal! And it's no individual's responsibility to tackle the problems with academia and gatekeeping, of course, but my goal is to source as much of what I discuss as I possibly can, as well as share those resources with anyone who could benefit from them. A librarian basically lol so I'm glad the essays I've shared have been beneficial to you!

[benkyoutobentou]

31 Days of Productivity Reading: Retrospective

This ended up being an entire essay so I had to make it into its own post!

How did my goals turn out? I'm so glad you asked.

Finish No. 6 volume 3

[X] Read [half of] 憎らしい彼

Read 独り舞

Read at least ten volumes of manga

[30/31] Read at least an hour per day

Personally, I think I did alright with my goals, especially considering how busy I was during the first few weeks of the month. I only missed my reading goal one day out of the month! I'm happy with that! That one miss was definitely odd though. The very next day, I found myself debating if I should still hit the hour mark. After all, I had already missed one day. What's one more? But I squashed that thought and continued on as though I never missed at all. Missing only once is better than missing twice!

During the course of this challenge, I finished twelve books (two novels and ten manga volumes) and started one more novel. The two novels I finished were No. 6 volume three by Asano Atsuko and 独り舞 by Li Kotomi, the novel I started but didn't get around to finishing was 憎らしい彼 by Nagira Yuu (which is the second book in the美しい彼 series). The manga volumes that I read were 僕らの地球の歩き方 (5) by Sorai Mone, 光が死んだ夏 (4) by Mokmok Len, ベルサイユのばら (1, 2) by Ikeda Riyoko, ３月のライオン (5) by Umino Chica, and ロンリーガールに逆らえない (1-5) by Kashikaze. If I were forced to pick a favorite of the month, I think I would have to choose volume five of ボクチキ but I feel like that's kind of cheating, since it's already my favorite manga series. Most of what I read during the month ended up being continuations of series that I had previously started reading, and I only read two completely new to me things (独り舞 and ロンガル).

Did my physical tbr shrink during this challenge? No! Not at all! Yikes! At the beginning of the month, I got a huge package of eighteen books from a lovely friend over on Instagram who doesn't read Japanese and was getting rid of them anyways. Then, I found the entirety of Basara at a used book shop and picked up the first five volumes. I want to start reading more older and classic shoujo, so this was the perfect opportunity to pick up a series that I probably wouldn't have read otherwise. So in the end, my Japanese tbr ended up expanding by thirteen books, but at least it didn't expand by twenty three, right?

As much as this challenge was a success, it was also a failure. I started this challenge to encourage myself to prioritize reading in my schedule and, honestly, that didn't happen as much as I had hoped. I talked a bit about this with a neighbor who wants to practice piano more, but I think that sometimes, putting emphasis on something can create a mental block, no matter how much you enjoy the activity. Especially with a challenge like this, I constantly felt like I had to have enough time to read. What even is enough time to read? Instead of picking up a book whenever and wherever, I was trying to force time for it, which just ended up making it so that I would push off reading until the very end of the day. It's the same as with practicing piano. If you stop to play a little song when you have five minutes, you'll probably play a lot more in the day than if you specifically try to find enough time for a full hour long practice session. Often, those little pick ups turn into a lot more if you let them.

I mentioned this a bit before, but I'd like to say it again and possibly expand on it. I think I'd like to bring this challenge back in a few months, but instead of focusing on time spent, focus more on page count. This would encourage those small pick ups rather than discourage them, as I felt this timing method did. Each time I wanted to read, I had to start the timer, stop it every time I got interrupted, and overall it was kind of a pain. Definitely not the ideal reading circumstances.

One thing that I did like about the timing system was being able to see my average reading speed. My average speed ended up being a little bit faster than what I had previously thought! My guess before this was about five minutes per novel page. I'm not a whole lot faster than that, but small progress is still progress! It was also interesting to see how my reading speed differed between different manga series and wh that was. I read some series that I knew were slower reads for me (３月のライオン) and some that I knew would be easier (ロンガル) but actually seeing the differences in the way the manga was written and drawn and how that related to my reading speed was interesting. I didn't get to all the manga series I wanted to in the end, but I won't stop reading just because this challenge is over.

Overall, I am really glad that I did this challenge. I had a lot of fun writing these updates each day and I am glad that I got through some books on my tbr, even if I would have liked to have made a bit more progress than I did. Expect to see more of this in the future! Just, maybe not the super near future. I'm also thinking of other fun reading challenges to do... Someone I follow on Instagram has an immersion bingo board that they complete each month, so maybe I could do that with my Japanese rads? Much to be considered... Until next time!

[sassykinzonline]

lmk if im annoying you with my questions. 🫣

the will of fire had been originally about how love would bring peace but within the series it seems to have been twisted into a nationalist idea — maybe im wrong so i want another pov as im working on this essay rn (bc im an adhd mess who cant focus on one thing at a time).

seen with shikamaru’s arc and how he is obviously very pro-konoha. how exacrly do yoi think this idea got twisted so badly? i assume its due to tobirama and danzo tbh. but im not sure. (maybe im not explaining well)..

and also, what are your opinions on every in konoha 11 and how they treated naruto. i think theres a weird conditional acceptance they give him in shippuden but doesnt seem like true friendship. yk)

sorry for the long ask!

i'll just keep telling you i love your questions, someday you'll believe it.

ok so the will of fire: in my opinion its inception is kind of what got fucked up. if we're to believe that the sage and the myth about his kids happened in the land of fire, then thats where that starts. the sage's original mistake was the idea that because one brother had a different perspective, he could be excluded from cooperation. its objectively true that to build civilization you need to have a sense of community, but that doesnt implicitly mean that that sense of community needs to manifest in the same way. indra had that, it just wasnt necessarily his priority. they basically punished him for being an introvert (INTJ specifically) ☠️.

so basically the issue with the will of fire is that from the start it was self-defeating. if we need to "pass on" the will of fire because its about building love and community, then we should be finding ways to include everyone regardless of who they are. if theres some arbitrary point where someone is no longer "part of the group", then youre not building love and community.

thats why you end up with the warring states period, where clans are fighting for no real reason, then the founders era where ultimately hashirama doesnt do a very good job of respecting madara or the uchiha, then like you said things absolutely snowball with tobirama because hes essentially just repeating the mistake the sage made on a systemic scale rather than a personal scale like hashirama did.

i would also say that in making "the will of fire", a fairly jingoistic concept in practice, the founding principle of konoha, hashirama is to blame for the naturally occurring state of fascism konoha descended into. so thematically speaking it IS appropriate that naruto becomes hokage in boruto to "end fascism" (or whatever kishimoto thinks fascism is) because he includes EVERYONE even if theyre villains or war criminals or what have you. hes the embodiment of radical empathy. people might not like that but thats pretty much the only way to have a restorative and progressive society particularly to avoid a boomerang back into fascism to begin with.

generally speaking too, pretty much everyone in a position of power is linked to hashirama in some way because of the way succession works in konoha, so its pretty easy to spread propaganda fast and have it take its foothold across generations. your example of shikamaru being -> asuma -> hiruzen -> tobirama -> hashirama.

konoha 11: i might have a different take on this since i know these people so im gonna try to be a bit open-ended

kiba - i actually think kiba has a somewhat fair interpretation of naruto which is that hes annoying, but just another kid, but also they have the same dream so theyre "rivals". especially since they have the same personality (kinda), i think its easy to see why theres friction between them but theyre also both pretty tenderhearted people. in my opinion they have the kind of relationship most people (usually straight guys) think me and naruto have; that rough and tumble Boys Being Boys crap. in shippuden i think hes in the middle of the pack when it comes to being kind to naruto, from what i remember he seemed to be struggling more with the idea of where his allegiances should lie. the fact that he was questioning it to begin with is more than you can say for a lot of them.

hinata - mouse. wants something from naruto but at least its fairly unconditional, and based on his actual spirit. completely useless to being a straight up liability to him though. but in shippuden at a certain point she seems to be aware of that and doesnt force herself to get in his way and stuff the way sakura does.

shino - irrelevant.

ino - her relationship with naruto is pretty funny. this may be controversial but if i think theres someone who's the biggest victim of misogyny in fandom its her. shes smart, shes a good fighter, shes brave, shes kind, she has a lot of accomplishments to her name, shes talented, i could go on and on, but people think shes "unrealized" because she likes hot guys. but it isnt even like she lets that get in the way of her work like others? she just has high self-esteem? shes another person where i think she was indeed kind of mean to naruto when he was a little shit, but also was nice to him when he was nice. as in she treated him more fairly than others when she didnt have too much of a reason to. i do think though that in shippuden it becomes more clear that at the end of it all though she still subscribes to the "hero of konoha" narrative (her sudden thirst for him 😒), but she still treats naruto the same as always so its less conditional.

shikamaru - hes a bit of a user isnt he? im under the impression his father knew of naruto's lineage and THATS the reason why he encourages his son to try and get closer to him. their family are known to be smart and kind of manipulative so....theyre definitely playing chess in that regard. i think, at least, that hes pretty open about his sentiments towards naruto being largely professional, so naruto doesnt have any misconceptions about where they stand.

choji - follower but also a nice guy so hes kinda in the kiba boat of "probably wants to be genuine with naruto but struggling with how much hes allowed to do that".

sakura - shes a down low hater, an opp and a bootlicker. she exemplifies naruto's conditional acceptance. pass.

sai - hes slightly closer than kiba and choji on the "struggle" bus, where he ends up being closer to being genuine with and siding with naruto. im sure his experiences with root are what influence this. i also dont necessarily think his allegiances are to "konoha", i just think he doesnt really get whats going on so hes kind of just reacting to whats happening and deciding how it feels in that moment. hes like a telltale games character with a compass guiding the decisions he makes as he goes along.

lee - openminded, doesnt seem to have a strong creed and is focused more on being of service whoever is doing the most work. if thats naruto then hes helping naruto. if thats konoha then hes helping konoha. he has good mentorship from guy in that sense.

neji - pro naruto from jump. not even a question.

tenten - she doesnt really have anything to say does she? shes not really a political person, she likes blending in, doing her job, and collecting her weapons.

so overall i would say that theres a good amount of people at least trying to question the system and not stand in opposition of naruto, but the people beholden to the system would pose a decent threat.

[world-cinema-research]

Stand By Me (1986)

(SHORT ESSAY)

By Jensen Boles (THE 112C 01)

The movie I watched this week would be Stand By Me. Starring the likes of Wil Wheaton, River Phoenix, Corey Feldman, Jerry O'Connell, Kiefer Sutherland, and Richard Dreyfuss. The film was released August 22, 1986 and directed by Rob Reiner who also directed such films as The Princess Bride, When Harry Met Sally, as well as an adaptation of another Stephen King Novel known as Misery. The reason I chose this movie is because it happens to be one of my favorite movies of all time and every time I watch it I'm always reminded of the good times I used to have with my friends throughout my childhood.

Regarding the numbers at the box office, Stand By Me had a decent budget of 8 billion dollars for 1986 standards. It also made $52,287,414 domestically and only $1,236 internationally. Making a total worldwide budget of $52,288,650. While the opening weekend for this film was 0.5% of total gross, it also did rather poorly with their DVD sales with only $1,431,608 in total DVD sales (link for more details). The film was critically successful with positive ratings such as an 8.1/10 on IMDb, a 92% for rotten tomatoes, and a Metacritic rating of 75%. Regardless of the poor DVD sales as well as the poor international sales, this film has been deemed successful by fans and critics alike. Not to mention it made more money than the film's budget. One review that I found would be from The New York Times which says "Some 15-year-olds may well enjoy this tale about some 12-year-olds, so parents will have to decide how much they are willing to endure for their kids." I think this quote from the review means that certain age groups will have a deeper understanding of the movie once they watch it (link for the full review).

The movie begins with the narrator named Gordie Lachance who happens to be grown up in this scene and is reflecting on the summer of 1959 when he was only 12 years old, living in a small town in Oregon known as Castle Rock. Soon after we meet his friends named Teddy Duchamp and Chris Chambers playing poker in their clubhouse until another friend named Vern Tessio shows up and asks their friends if they can camp out for a sleepover when it turns out that they’re going to look for a dead body and they go on a 3 day hike to search for him, Vern found out about the body when he overheard a conversation about a missing kid named Ray Brower. The reason the kids are looking for the body is so that they become famous, however there’s a gang of bullies that also want to search for the missing kid and become famous as well (link for synopsis).

While the plot of the movie is a bit dark and depressing, I do personally think that it is good for establishing an emotional coming of age story, after all this movie is based on the novel by Stephen King entitled The Body. Despite the movie being R rated, I do think that the director wanted to target the movie to a certain age group who will deeply understand the movie (as I mentioned above). I also have to mention, the movie also has some really impactful scenes that people can somewhat relate to. Especially the ending where they mention how we have to say goodbye to our childhood (see clip below), you can tell that this has left an emotional impact on a lot of people who watched this movie, me included.

One of the limiting factors that I can think of for this film would be the R rating and how it limited most viewers under the age of 17 from seeing this movie when it first came out. By today's standards, this is still regarded as an all time classic and is also still being favored by fans and critics alike.

Although this film falls into the category of being conventional, there is one scene of the film that would be considered unconventional by some viewers. What happens in the scene is that Gordie tells a story about an obese kid looking to get revenge on the people that made fun of him because of his weight, and the kid gets revenge by entering a pie eating contest and creating what is known as a "Barf-o-rama" which involves him making the other contestants vomit as well as the attendees at the contest by vomiting on another contestant after drinking castor oil and eating a raw egg, as well as 5 blueberry pies. The reason why this would be considered unconventional is because the talk about vomit being used in a silly story that was thought up by a twelve year old, as well as being humor targeted towards middle school aged kids.

Overall, I have noticed a few personal things when rewatching this movie. Even though I have rewatched it a few times from when I last saw it at the age of 12, it would emotionally impact me more each time I would watch it, cause a lot of people can relate to not seeing their friends again after their childhood ends. For me personally, I can somewhat relate because I also have had many friends come in and out of my life.