#irony here is it’s probably family owned and operated

[happyheidi]

deer walks into a store and later brings her whole family for another visit 🛒

Horsetooth Store, Gas, and RV Park

(via)

[havendance]

Helena Bertinelli/Barbara Gordon Role Swap AU

Helena is more or less your typical mob princess socialite. Pretty, a little frivolous, largely ignoring the family business. She’s working her way through an English degree she doesn’t know what she’ll do with and is largely bored with her life.

Things change when, on a whim, she goes to a costume party dressed as a female version of Batman, her father’s rival.

On the way home from the party, she runs into none other than Bruce Wayne in the middle of a kidnapping attempt.

Helena has enough self defense training to keep herself safe. Enough to give her enough confidence to do something.

Of course, Bruce Wayne is actually Batman, and the kidnapping was all part of one of his plans… One thing leads to another and it ends with Helena operating as Batgirl full time.

Helena has a good relationship with her family. She loves her dad. Her dad loves her. That core truth doesn’t change when she starts going out as Batgirl. Her dad doesn’t know that his daughter’s working with one of his greatest enemies and Helena intends to keep it that way.

Now, this could go any number of ways, but in the older comics (I’m not sure where the comics ages have their boundaries), it’s played for goofy dramatic irony. Isn’t it wild how father and daughter get along by day and are rivals by night?

Their relationship becomes more complex as comics grow grittier. Helena is torn between the love and family that the mafia offers and the moral depravity they operate with. She ultimately affirms the moral superiority of the works she does with Batman, but is still a little uneasy with the way it pits her against the people she loves. As she gets older and finishes a degree or two, Helena decides to step away from the night work, believing that she can do more good as a teacher. 

This decision ends in tragedy when a random terrorist attack by the Joker leaves her paralyzed from the waist down. She’s shot while protecting her students.

(I think that in this universe, the mafia should get to kill the joker in revenge, as a treat. Probably not before Jason dies though, because we’ve got to operate at least roughly parallel to canon.)

She struggles in the aftermath of her injury before ultimately becoming Oracle.

As Oracle, Helena’s connections to the mafia give her new sources of information, as well as new sources of conflict. She chafes against her father’s new protectiveness.

But let's switch our focus to Barbara Gordon.

The daughter of one of the few non corrupt cops in Gotham, Barbara becomes caught in the crossfire of the endless battle between the Batman and crime. An ordinary family dinner turns tragic when mob operatives attack, after Gordon because of his connection with Batman. It becomes a massacre. Barbara is the only survivor.

Fearing for her life, she goes into hiding, finding an old friend of her father’s to teach her how to defend herself. She learns to fight, to track, to kill, and becomes the Huntress.

The thing about this AU is that killing off Jim Gordon for Barbara’s character development has all sorts of fun repercussions. Batman is much more separate from the GCPD, for one. With his one ally dead, anyone remaining who sympathizes with him is cautious, unwilling to be the next caught in the crosshairs. The Gordon massacre is a message and a very effective one at that.

The fact that it is Gordon’s daughter who is the Huntress also has its own effects on the relationship between her and Batman. We’re reversing the Batman daddy issues here.

Batman views Barbara as a daughter figure. This is not reciprocated. He feels a duty to her as a result of his relationship with her father. She has little patience for his paternalistic attitude toward her and his attempts at redeeming her.

We will keep the Nightwing/Huntress one-night stand in this au because untenable love with DickBabs sounds like something that could be fun. 

Tim also hangs out with both Helena and Barbara, but we’re not getting into that here.

I’m starting to run out of page space in the notebook I’m writing this in, so we’re going to skip ahead to No Man’s Land.

Helena’s decision to remain in No Man's Land sparks one of the worst arguments she’s ever had with her dad. He doesn’t want her to stay. He says he should pull out with the rest of them. He says it's too dangerous. She refuses to be talked out of it, and as the bridges are blown, she can’t help being agonized over if she’ll ever see him again to make up.

Barbara’s decision to wear the bat symbol proves to be divisive between Oracle and Batman. The fact that it’s Gordon’s daughter, that this is someone Batman has been trying to redeem, leads her to see it as him grooming Barabara to replace who she was.

Batman is more willing to work with Barbara and, after the mess with Two Face, seems more willing to forgive her failure as well. Cassandra’s emergence and Helena pushing her forward as the next Batgirl is motivated in part by her relationship with the girl, and in part by a desire to wrest back control over her legacy.

Umm, eventually Helena and Barbara resolve their differences when Huntress enters her Birds of Prey era, which I haven’t read yet, so we’ll leave this one here for now.

[local-queer-disappointment]

unpinning my nice fun positivity post because I want to talk a little about this space that I've created. I think a dni is stupid because people never listen anyways, which is why I haven't had one, but I still see the value in at least telling people who this little corner is for.

also YELL AT ME ON DISCORD I'M woahits_alex.mp3 IF U ASK ME ABOUT FIC RECS FOR MY FANDOMS I'LL CRY WITH HAPPINESS

you are welcome here:

- ALL queers. trans men, trans women, nonbinary, intersex, xenogender, "contradictory" labels like mspec gays/lesbians lesboys/sapphileans (omg it's me!!), slur reclaims, detransitioners who are not transphobic, mspec lesbians, aro/ace and all variations thereupon, unlabeled, questioning, etc. I love all of you. I love the community that we have. we are family, whether or not some of us want to be, and exclusionism is Not Funky Fresh!!

- pro Palestine!! I don't rb posts as much (I am scared of spreading misinformation) but I think I'll start doing that again! (don't forget your daily click guys)

- jewish people. I am specifically adding this one to say that because of the shitty Everything, I sincerely hope I have never spread any antisemitic rhetoric in support of Palestine, reblogs or otherwise. it is not your guys' job to educate me, but I hope it's clear that I'm operating in good faith.

- disabilities/cluster b disorders/systems/AAC users. I am not any of these things so if I say/do something out of line please tell me! but I love you guys and you're absolutely welcome here.

- proshippers (if this bothers you block and move on)

- furries. not personally one of y'all but I think you're neat :]

- literally, like, anyone, as long as you're not a dick

you are not welcome here:

- terfs, transphobes, exclusionists, anti-mspec, anti-lesboy, and people who think transandrophobia is "fake" or whatever. go away I don't like you (or at least be prepared to be blocked or yelled at)

- similarly to last, anyone who starts queer infighting or hates on less visible queers/strangers who don't "look" queer (I don't care if you think someone is cishet. you have no way of knowing that. let's stop hating people for immutable characteristics and start having thoughtful criticisms of people's actions thanks)

- ZIONISTS. BYE BYE

- (but also antisemites because come on now let's not do this. judiasm ≠ zionism)

- ableists, fatphobia, general dickheads. also if you're the kind of person who would tell me irl that I'm a failure for dropping out, I don't want you here!!! surprise!!!

- antis (again, either leave now or expect to be argued with)

other stuff under the cut bc this is already too long:

- I accept anonymous asks! and also non anonymous ones. ask me shit idk

- I am autistic and VERY gullible. if I reblog a "bait" post, or something that's clearly fake or a joke with a genuine reaction, I'm probably not playing some 5d irony chess I'm probably just stupid. y'all I'm sorry I'm trying :\

- I don't rb nsfw. not as, like, a rule, I just don't see the value in doing so lol. if I ever did I'd tag it and probably update this

- I argue with people!! I enjoy arguing with people!! usually it's in replies and not reblogs but still. if you are allergic to discourse maybe don't follow me? I also rb "discourse" posts, mostly transmasc support stuff, general solidarity stuff with the trans community or lgbt community as a whole, politics, current events, that kinda thing.

- this is, shockingly, supposed to be a fandom blog (I got carried away). current fandoms include: Ace Attorney (the one this blog was supposed to be about), Doctor Who (childhood hyperfixation come back to bite my ass), and Splatoon (no excuse). also MHA is basically my abusive boyfriend at this point but I'm trying to get better (not). you can find the records of my failing recovery at @alex-is-losing-sleep-over-krbk /hj (I also shamelessly rb my own posts over there lol)

and I guess since I'm mentioning fandoms, here my fav ships: wrightworth, klapollo, franmaya, thoschei, pearlina, agent 24. also somehow, completely inexplicably, cuttletavio. listen I read like one really good fic and I just think—

anyways, that's about it. love you all :]

[utsuboarchive]

also, let me talk about jade post nrc- because THATS been a huge topic for discussion with multiple people the last couple days.

so in jade's bday boy vignette jade implies that the twin's family is equivalent to the mob. they deal in an obscure ( totally normal ) form of business, likely extortion and general manipulation of trade and potentially aspects of whatever government is in the coral sea. it is a family business, and i do 100% think the twins would be expected to help when they're old enough to do so. I.E after they're finished with school. and being their father's only kids? they'd likely take over when he's gone.

either twin could probably do things on their own. but floyd is so capricious, and might get frustrated or bored. where as jade doesn't enjoy being in the spotlight- or at the front of an operation. together the two would work phenomenally well and maintain a very good balance. there's a problem however: i don't think jade would be particularly keen on the idea of settling down like that. on having his future decided for him, and going only where it's been decided he'll go.

if he has reason to leave, and not carry on how his family expects him to-- he'll very likely take it. i do like the irony almost, of floyd being more "responsible" here, and staying home no matter what. where as jade decides to dip out, and refuses to pick up with his family's work. IF it was possible, he could still help floyd from behind the scenes, while doing what he wants. but taking a lot of factors into consideration, it wouldn't be that simple.

i do think... leaving might create strain between floyd and himself. temporarily i think but, it'd be there. the two always manage to work stuff out, no matter how volatile or violent they may seem to others.

by default, im not sure he'd leave. the twins would work together within the family business, fulfilling their parent's expectations. would jade be happy, or content with his life? probably not. i feel the work would grow repetitive and predictable, literally the worst thing you could possibly hand him.

leaving? plot dependent, he'd likely need a person he's leaving for. some driving force, something that gives him ground to stand on-- beyond merely " abandoning his family because he doesn't want to become like his father ". and despite what we know he does care about them. he loves his parents and his brother- but given an out, jade will absolutely use it to get away from what he'd consider a dull life. a mere continuation of what he'd been doing the course of his time at NRC.

[slowpoke272]

“catch-22″ by joseph heller

finished: june 30, 2023

I DID IT, AFTER SEVERAL ATTEMPTS IN MY ADOLESCENCE AND MAYBE 1-2 OTHER TIMES DURING MY TWENTIES, I WAS FINALLY ABLE TO READ THIS BOOK. ooooof, we’ve a lot to unpack here!

idk what it was about starting this book and not being able to keep going. i think my ability to not get through this book was probably one of the biggest indicators that traditional reading, while preferred, was not my most efficient way of capturing books and stories. i’m fine with that now, but it took me a long time and some significant ego death to get here. basically, i loved this book, it’s everything i always wanted from a war novel, it’s satire and whimsy and absurd and unchronological and the characters are not reliable narrators and the novel is relentlessly indirectly addressing so much about america, war, soldiers, and the human condition. all rolled into one book. supremely masterful.

my only criticism about the book is that i think it was too long. i do, however, love the way we were able to get so in depth with all the characters, all the angles that came with their decisions, and it wasn’t just solely focused on “yossarian good guy, we want to bring him home!” but there was so much more to it than that. i think the parts i didn’t particularly care for were the action scenes, but also some of the funniest moments were in there, too. idk, i might have a different opinion on this upon a second read, and this is a novel i’ve had a hardcopy of for years, so i will certainly be reading it again.

i also have to point out the irony of me reading this book right now, just before the 4th of july holiday. other war holidays (memorial day, labor day, veteran’s day {damn we have so many holidays about war and military huh lol}) maybe take a back seat to 4th of july this year, if for no other reason than the fourth falling on a tuesday this year, and therefore providing me a four day weekend instead of the usual three day weekend. as a child, i was a good lil american and would be excited to go see fireworks, we would have pie or whatever, my mom always bought us the newest line of old navy shirts with the american flag plastered all over them. as i grew into my own person and learned what america was really all about, specifically our military operations, i drifted away from this holiday and all its traditions. i don’t fight about it with my parents but it’s sort of like how my husband stopped going to church and his parents had a hard time accepting it at first, but eventually understood that was who he was; i don’t need this holiday and i don’t need to jerk off america. don’t get me wrong, love to all the soldiers and everything, but the principal of the matter is i don’t think anyone should die in war, ever, the fact that war even exists at all is so bizarre and insane to me. humans adapted over millions of years, learned to use tools and the resources available to us, built fires and homes and cities and made social structures and communities... all just to have it blasted away because of greed and racism, basically. tell me any war or “conflict” is about anything else, i dare you. it’s not. it’s always those two, sometimes both.

anyways, i grew up around my parents and my parents’ parents watching M*A*S*H and the like. my grandpa served in the army as well as other family friends and extended family members. near the end of my grandpa’s life, when i had enough curiosity and inquisition to ask about his military life is when he dwindled away to barely even being able to acknowledge it at all... so i never really got anything negative about war or the military, if anything it’s been super glorified throughout my life. queue soldiers coming to high school campuses to recruit, 9/11, and more friends and family joining different branches of the government and it’s been quite a different story. all that is to say that i’ve never felt comfortable with the idea of war, or even organized military, and these days i “celebrate” my long fourth of july weekends with my husband and cats, not seeking out fireworks and not wearing any flags. i think the last time i wore an american flag was when i was 16, i’m ashamed to admit that but it’s true.

catch-22 and joseph heller provides exactly the counterpoints to military operations that we need to hear. unfortunately, like most well-intentioned novels, the people who need to hear these ideas most are the least likely to be exposed or actually think critically about it. they are the next major major majors and will eventually become major major major majors in their obedience and loyalty, unless they get unalived in combat first. i deeply love how some parts of this novel were so whimsy and absurd, but that ending with snowden is gut-wrenching. also the alley scene in italy... with the SA. if you’ve read the book, you know the one. joseph heller is a remarkable author and i would be interested in other works of his but this is definitely an immediate favorite of mine.

the audiobook i borrowed on libby also had an extra 40 minutes of joseph heller reading selections from the novel and maaaaaaaan i wish i could buy this section alone and/or see him perform it with my own eyes. heck, it inspires me to recreate some of his prose and monologues. the back and forth between some of the characters becomes so painstaking that you can’t help but laugh. great book, immediate favorite, can’t wait to read it again and if you are like me and somehow got by 3 decades in life without finishing this book... HERE’S YOUR SIGN.

now i’m gonna reblog a bunch of things that resonated with me, but i know my favorite parts aren’t rebloggable. just read it, guys! for the love of humanity.

rating: 10/10 this deeply resonated with me, i will re-read it again numerous times and recommend it to anyone i know, the story and characters will stick with me forever; crave discussing it all the time and bring it up unprovoked

[lunarxdaydream]

“ why are you looking at me like that? ”   Ven

( question prompts )

Golden locks cascade as her head angles, matching to the relaxed demeanor that seemed to grow with each drink. Tension ebbs from every muscle, thoughts of the day allowed to drift under the radar their lull has silenced. Lucia barely even noticed that her phone was left behind, tucked deep into the pockets of her purse.

Not that she expected anyone to need her. And if so ... well, guess she didn't think too far ahead.

"I just don't get it." Bemusement fills her tone, and yet corners rise into a subtle smirk. Maybe it is the irony in her inability to find a clear motive despite her profession. Aside from his troublesome nature, there is no denying the man is intelligent enough to operate without suspicion. Possessed some sense of organization to maintain order of whatever information he collected, as well as their sources. Most of all, the ability to somehow ... hmm ... -- oh right, on getting them to keep their mouths shut.

His selective skills could have been used for something productive or beneficial. So why? Why sink himself into a criminal's life, even if it is through indirect participation?

"You're not an idiot but ... I wouldn't say ambitious either." But it is probably the alcohol fogging her clarity. "Not a total grifter. And if your brother is any indicator -- probably from a good family." Rim of the glass pressed to her lips for another sip. The sweetness of the lemon melding perfectly with the dry touch of vodka; faint taste of orange hiding beneath the notes only to peak just before the end. How he managed to make this on a whim, she didn't know.

-- Nor did she have any complaints.

"But somehow, you ended up here." Well, not exactly here here. He'd have to know what she was referring to -- because anyone with half a brain knows how someone ended up in their own place. "Why?"

|| @arcxnumvitae ||

[hamliet]

What Does It Mean to Save?

I keep seeing it said that Deku, Ochaco, and Shouto will “save” Shigaraki, Himiko, and Dabi, but that there will be no redemption and/or no survival for them. I’m truly not trying to vague these posts and everyone is entitled to their opinion, but literary criticism is fundamentally responsive so I’m writing this anyways.

I personally think that’s not BNHA’s definition of saving nor of redemption. So here, have a deep dive into literary tropes related to redemption, genre, and character arcs as they pertain to BNHA and the question of: what does it mean to save Shigaraki, Touya, and Himiko?

Before we begin, let me say that while we might be personally uncomfortable with redemption (there’s a redemption arc in BNHA I am personally quite uncomfortable with), that doesn’t inherently mean the narrative won’t go there. The key principle I’m operating on here is BNHA’s message that heroes save people. It’s held up as the highest ideal. 

So let’s talk redemption in BNHA-verse. With this guy, whose redemption arc I dislike in principle but accept as part of the story so don’t come for me stans and/or antis. I’m analyzing because it shows us what redemption means in BNHA-verse, whether or not that is satisfying to you personally as it fits/does not fit with your own morality/philosophy.

If Endeavor can be redeemed and live, and he’s Bakugou’s negative foil, I highly doubt Shigaraki and Deku as well as Touya and Shouto and Ochaco and Himiko will be any different. Why? Because Enji is an adult character. The others--well, Himiko’s age we don’t know, but we do know that Shigaraki and Dabi are technically adults. But does the story consider them adults?

(It doesn’t.)

Child-coded characters are generally more likely to survive a redemption, which I’ll explain more later. First I have to define what I mean by child-coding, because I DO NOT mean this in the way it’s often (mis)used in fandom wank. Child-coding is a real thing, but it is not done to infantilize and it has nothing to do with shipping.

Child coding frames the character as a child for a few narrative purposes to convey a story’s theme or purpose. For example, if it’s a coming of age story coding a character as a child even if they legally are not emphasizes their journey to an understanding of self-actualization, or a true understanding of self with self-awareness and an understanding of self-value. An example of an adult coded as a child is The Kite Runner, wherein Amir is a legal adult for half the story, even married for fifteen years so we’re talking 30s-40s, but he does not truly become an adult until he returns to his homeland and takes responsibility for a childhood sin. In Attack on Titan, the main characters are now nineteen, but are still struggling to take responsibility as adults and have only started doing so now that their mentors/parental figures have started dying.

Along those lines, in any kind of story, you can code a character as a child of someone, regardless of biological relationship, to convey the type of relationship they have (usually a mentor one). For an example of this, see Bungo Stray Dogs’ Dazai and Akutagawa. Despite their two year age difference, Dazai recruited him to the mafia, abandoned him, and Akutagawa desperately seeks his approval. Usually in these stories a character will “overcome” their parental figure. This can be done through overcoming their need for the parental figure’s approval in stories where the parental figure is kindly (such as in Harry Potter, when in the final book Harry, Ron, and Hermione leave the Weasleys to find the Horcruxes despite Mrs. Weasley’s please) or through like, killing/stopping/leaving the parental figure when they are abusive (see fairy tales like Rapunzel and Cinderella). The parental link to self-actualization is because it is childlike (and a part of actual psychology that is reflected in literature) to see yourself as a part of your parent; self-actualized person would see yourself as a distinct person from your parent, but also acknowledge the ways in which they’ve shaped you.

So, how do you code a character as a child? BNHA isn’t subtle about it, because Horikoshi seldom is subtle about anything. The villain trio are all coded as children.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Who cannot achieve self-actualization so long as AFO has access to his body, as he’s literally trying to possess him. He’s trying, but it’s not gonna work because Shigaraki can’t keep AFO and become an adult at the same time. It’s a choice the narrative is setting up: your dream of destroying, or your freedom? (To get the latter, he’ll probably have to destroy AFO).

Todoroki Touya, who is repeatedly emphasized as a small child when compared to his siblings, and yes, I know he’s now tall. Specifically he’s spotlighted as the child of Endeavor:

And he’s the least self-actualized one in a lot of ways, contradicting himself constantly. I’m not Endeavor, DUH! But these are Endeavor’s flames! He’s gonna have to choose one or the other, because the tragic irony is that the more he takes out his rage on those around him, the more like Endeavor he becomes.

And Toga Himiko (who might well literally be a legal child), who is actually the most self-actualized one thus far, because she rejects Curious’s child insistence (Curious holds her in a Pieta pose, based on Michelangelo’s statue wherein Mary holds a deceased Christ):

She’s still got, like, a way to go though:

Because Himiko also wants to be like the people she loves to the point where she loses her own identity in them, which is er, not self-actualization. So she’ll have to choose whether or not she really wants to be like the people she loves or whether she wants to live her own way, which she herself tells us how that would end (death):

Deku said it himself: it’s good to focus on what someone is doing now. And look, I have issues with this statement and how it’s framed. I’ve talked about it at length and it was doomed to fail because Shouto himself told us long ago that it was annoying to hear a righteous speech by a stranger when you hadn’t gone through the same, plus Endeavor kinda failed by choosing being a hero over a dad here. But, the principle is that if the past doesn’t preclude Endeavor from seeking a better self, why would it preclude three characters coded as children, one of whom is literally somewhat the product of Endeavor’s sins? BNHA doesn’t think the past keeps someone from a better future. 

So what about Dabi’s counterpoint, which is indeed valid? Well, redemption doesn’t mean the past forgets, either. It’s complicated and nuanced, and we can debate how well Horikoshi strikes this nuance (it’s got its flaws), and admittedly I don’t know how this will go down in the future. But it is asking Endeavor: how do you redeem yourself to the people you’ve hurt? And we have Endeavor asking this question to Touya’s shrine. I mean, the foreshadowing is obvious. Endeavor has to redeem himself by trying to save Touya. However, it will still probably come down to Shouto to save Touya.

For our three villains, it’s a little harder to predict... well, sort of. For Shigaraki it’s extremely obvious: he has to help take down AFO. Dabi probably has to do something to help his family (siblings probably), but it’s vague. Toga needs help and not condemnation, but presumably she’ll help Ochaco with something.

So, is this redemption? I’d define it as redemption in the eyes of the narrative. To address what makes a redemption is another essay unto itself, but if we bring in the oft-compared Star Wars example: did Darth Vader get a redemption? Did Ben Solo? Everyone says yes to both. However, only Luke witnesses Vader’s redemption, and only Rey Ben Solo’s. So the rest of the galaxy? Doesn’t think so. When I say they’ll be redeemed, I’m defining it as their role in the eyes of the narrative, not whether or not society will accept them or even whether their victims will forgive them (of note, in canonical novels, Leia never forgave Darth Vader despite learning he was her father and obviously knowing Luke’s account of his redemption was true).

So, redemption in a narrative doesn’t mean all of society has to forgive and accept them. Dabi has still like, murdered 30 people--many of whom were thugs, but he himself acknowledges they didn’t deserve to die. Additionally, he himself also acknowledges that the families left behind--their feelings matter:

But why does that mean they have to die? Why even does it mean they have to languish in prison forever? (If there’s even a safe prison at the end of BNHA which I kinda have doubts about.) Heroes have also killed: see Hawks as Exhibit A. In fact, some people want revenge on the heroes precisely because they arrested or killed their loved ones (jail isn’t held up as a rehabilitative place in BNHA’s world. In most countries it isn’t in real life, either, but again that’s for another essay). So why don’t the League’s feelings on Twice’s death matter just as much as the feelings of unnamed and unseen (and thereby less important narratively) characters?

Additionally, regarding death... the villains routinely get called on their death wishes. Himiko’s determination to decide how/when she dies is called out because this is right  before Twice overcomes his trauma to save her, and the next arc they appear in is when Twice dies trying to save her again. Dabi’s suicide wish keeps him from getting close to others, and it keeps getting thwarted. Shigaraki’s obsession with destruction and death is clearly not a good thing, and his rejection of his family’s desire for them to join him in death this past arc is growth.

In other words: what Dabi said and what Snatch said about families and how they feel matter for the villains too. The villains are their own weird found family (Dabi as the deadbeat prodigal brother of both his families). Their deaths--Magne’s and Twice’s thus far, and I’m not ruling out further deaths in the future--affect the others. People’s feelings on losing loved ones matter. The villains are people, as Himiko said herself this arc:

Their feelings about each other matter:

How would Touya dying affect the Todorokis? At least they saved him spiritually, I guess, but that’s absolutely lame narratively, and if you have Enji eventually do a sacrifice to save Dabi (pretty likely, even if I personally think Enji will survive said sacrifice) then what’s the point of Dabi dying? How would Himiko dying affect society? As a martyr like Curious wanted her to be, even a redeemed one? A tragic warning story? What even is the point of Ochaco saving her if that’s the case? If Shigaraki dies, well, who would mourn besides Deku? How would Shigaraki dying affect the surviving members of the league? He just couldn’t be saved physically? 

It’s not impossible some of this happens, but it doesn’t seem like great writing, especially with panels like, oh, these that show us BNHA’s perspective on death:

Sacrificing something is a type of death that occurs in stories; this should happen in a redemption arc, which is why I’ve been saying Enji needs to sacrifice his hero reputation to help save Touya and even then it’ll still be Shouto imo who does the saving. But physical death?

If you want further analysis of the latter two panels and how they relate to the ending, see here.

We already have another villain who will definitely die redemptively (Kurogiri--an adult coded character--because he’s already, like, dead), and Spinner and Mr. Compress aren’t coded as kids so I hold them with anxiety towards the end. But again, this isn’t me being ageist or saying this is the way things ought to be in fiction or real life: it’s me looking at writing tropes and saying that child-coded characters tend to survive their redemptions. See: Zuko. Why? Because the death of children or child-coded characters is a tragedy. When a child-coded character dies redemptively it doesn’t feel like a happy ending and if framed as such, it’s often criticized for bad writing (see: Ben Solo). Curious even called this out in her fight with Himiko. I would hope Horikoshi doesn’t end the story being like yeah Curious was right that’s the best use of Himiko’s/Dabi’s/Shigaraki’s arcs:

Additionally, as for the believability of a character getting a new chance after so much destruction and murder... well, it’s kinda a thing in shonen and even in seinen? For better or for worse, it’s a thing. We have Vegeta in Dragon Ball Z and Kaneki Ken in Tokyo Ghoul (Kaneki, by the way, is absolutely an inspiration for Shigaraki). We can debate how well-written these redemptions are (I personally have been quite critical of Kaneki’s despite wanting it to happen narratively), but it can be done. BNHA’s Japan especially isn’t as harsh a world as Tokyo Ghoul’s Japan, so it would make even more sense for something like Kaneki’s ending.

The reality is that the cycle of revenge via hurting people and then leaving hurting families and loved ones has to stop somewhere. Someone has to be the bigger person and step up and be like “naw.” That’s heroic. That’s brave. That’s sacrificial itself. Justice itself doesn’t really exist in its purest form without mercy.

There’s another genre-reason I don’t see death or jail as likely (I could see, like, maybe a mental health ward like Rei’s? But it’s too soon to speculate).

If saving is considered a good thing for the story, if it’s truly the highest ideal, then saving someone should be rewarded by the narrative. The characters who save should have a positive result to show us this a good thing.

This is why it doesn’t work for the heroes’ end journey to be accepting that some people cannot be saved. The notion of just accepting that you cannot do something, you cannot save everyone, you cannot, cannot, cannot, is called out as a flaw of society. Determination, on the other hand, is rewarded.

We see it with Deku as well as with Mirio.

So, what if they save them and the redeemed characters then go on to sacrifice themselves in their redemption and die (come to the same end)? If saving changes absolutely nothing for the saved person, if it’s too late for the saved from themselves to change and/or do anything that matters besides die, then the narrative theme of saving as important is left unemphasized at best and undermined at worst. Simple intrinsic knowledge that the kids “did the right thing” doesn’t cut it for a story with so much focus on physical saving when the kids are already doing the right thing; moral struggles about whether to choose to be good aren’t really Deku, Ochaco, or Shouto’s arcs. It works for Aizawa’s arc with Kurogiri, but not for the kiddos. If BNHA was more of a philosophical/spiritual text, that would indeed make sense, but it is not. Genre-wise, BNHA is a fantastical superhero optimistic story, not a gritty real-world set drama.

[jamiedc-they-them]

Choices you (and us) stand by (Platonic)

Requested Imagine - An operation that brings you back home after being cleared is met by some resistance. But, your friends are there to help.

You had been in the hospital for a bit now. You had been resting, but your friends had made an effort to see you when Malivore wasn’t spitting out monsters.

You appreciate it, really. You really did like seeing your family.

Plus, you felt better with this operation. And they had supported you the whole way, even going with you when the operation came.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw Lizzie smiling at you. You ignored the slightly creepy factor, and just smiled at her, “Hey.” You greeted, voice still groggy from not fully being awake yet.

“Hey back,” She said back. You heard her happiness, and your smile grew; she was doing better, it seemed. You were happy for her, really.

And, by the shine in her eyes, you saw that her feelings for you were vice versa. She saw how much more comfortable you looked now.

“Dad and the others would’ve come. But –”

“Malivore?”  You guessed, “Look, Liz. It’s cool, I get it. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. But, I needed this. I know not everyone is, but I don’t think Malivore would go that low. If they did, I know I’m happy with it.”

Lizzie nodded, but didn’t answer your guess. She just held out a hand, “Doc says it’s time to go. So, what you say, ready to go home?”

You looked at your friend, and smiled hugely this time, “Ready.” You confirmed, taking her hand.

The drive back wasn’t too long, but it was filled with idol chatter about what you had missed. It wasn’t too much, just the norm.

What you knew, and what Lizzie told you, was that Hope had redone your room for you. You knew your sister would do a lot for you, but you didn’t expect that.

“And, here we are.” Lizzie announced as she parked the car. Together you got out. And, as expected, there was your two other sisters awaiting you with a little banner in their hands.

You smiled, and the Josie used a spell to keep the banner up as they hugged you, minding to not rip any stitching.

“Wow, you look great.” Josie complimented as she pulled away from the hug.

“Yeah, you look amazing, Y/N.” Hope agreed, beaming smile on her face. It was unusual for her, but she mainly reserved it for you. And she knew this was a big moment.

“Where’s Alaric?” You asked, wondering where your father figure was.

That made the smiles dim, “What?” You asked, looking between the two. With Lizzie being next to you, you missed how she also looked between the pair in alarm.

“You didn’t sort it?” Lizzie asked through clenched teeth. When she didn’t receive an answer, she stormed inside.

“What’s going on?” You asked your two remaining friends. They shared a side glance, not sure on how to say it.

“Not…not everyone was…positive about it.” Josie said, trying to be as gentle as possible.

“…Oh.” Hope heard the voice tremble, and was quick to put a hand on your arm.

“Hey, it doesn’t reflect on all of us, ok? It’s just a minority. I’m sorry.” She said, seeing how deflated you looked.

“It’s not your fault.” You assured Hope. Both your smiles were dejected and sombre.

It was Josie who then spoke up, “Why don’t we go inside get you to your room?” She offered her arm for a loop, you obliged with the want and were on your way.

You weren’t even if it for two seconds before Lizzie barged in, a pissed off expression clear on her face.

“What is it?” You asked after a moment of silence.

“They know you got back,” At those words, Josie and Hope came to stand by you as they looked to Lizzie; their question was one you didn’t understand.

Whatever it was, Lizzie shook her head before looking at you with a smile, “I’ll be right back. Rest of the squad is looking for hobbit, but I got this. You just relax, Y/N.” Lizzie told you, before she left the room.

“Come on, sit. We’ll help you set up.” Hope said, sitting on said bed and patting the spot next to you.

You sat.

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

“I meant what I said before, you look great.” Hope said as the three of you had moved to laying down at the top of the bed; you in the middle and two of your sisters on either side of you. They were both on their sides, facing you, with you looking up at the ceiling.

“You don’t need to keep saying that.” You laughed through your words softly. Hope’s smile grew. She was happy you were happy and allowing yourself time to recover.

“How many disagreed with it?” You asked. That created a lull in the conversation; an uncomfortable atmosphere there.

Lizzie, in any other situation, would’ve probably been more worried about how this would go. Despite the small groups, there were more of them than there was of her. But, in this moment, she didn’t care. To be honest, it went against what the school was about –

Acceptance. And they just seemed to be the anti-all of that despite their own differences.

The levels of irony was not lost on her. In fact, if anything, it was what drove her on further.

“Hey, asshats!” She called out to them. They turned, one even opened their mouths to talk.

That was quickly stopped by a quick silencing spell by Lizzie. She was talking, and they were sure as hell going to listen, “I get that you all are going through your edge grunge phase, but you do know that Y/N is an actual person, right? They chose this, and all you had to do was allow it and move on. I mean, you guys are with Josie, even if she’s just here on visit I haven’t seen one comment against her…”

“I just…I can’t describe it, but –”

“It’s euphoric?” Josie asked, your head then turned to her.

“In a way. I feel…I guess that, yeah. But, I mean, those out there…”

“Ignore them.” Hope said without missing a beat.”

“I can’t, Hope. You know how they stare and whisper. I’m not changing it back. I just…I don’t know…” You trailed off, not sure how to fully get your point across.

“You remember when you came out to mum and dad?” The question got both you and Josie sharply looking at you; it was rare for her to ever bring up your deceased parents. A sore spot for you both.

“You remember what she said?” You nodded, yet your sister continued, “’Ok, honey. I’m just glad you’re being you.’” You gulped as she then said, “And dad. God, dad was so proud, ‘I’m proud of you little one, for being true to yourself. No one can take that from you, ever.’”

“No one can or will. Not as long as we and you have someone to say about it.” Josie concluded, holding one of your hands in her own; it didn’t break you and Hope’s stare however. Josie respected that, it was a big thing to talk about your parents.

 “…And I get that my dad is away, but that doesn’t mean you have to come and ruin this for my friend who has been nothing but kind to all of you. And, what? One little change and choice and suddenly they’re dead to you? This school was built for acceptance, not hatred or anarchy or rebellion.” Lizzie was just getting more and more frustrated; more and more angry; more and more defensive.

Some of the group even looked ashamed. Her words were working. They were changing their minds.

Then, some of those faces shifted again. And she turned to see what had caused it.

It was you, with Hope and Josie stood next to you as a united front.

She wasn’t done, but it seemed that the crowd she had riled up were getting antsy again.

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

The spell had worn off, and there were words. There were a lot of words. You had seen Lizzie hateful before, but this was something else.

You heard the words they used to almost try turn it on her, say that she was relapsing. Say that this was why, that she was losing control. They tried to make themselves the victims. They were the ones under attack, not you. Why would it be you? In their minds, as of right now, that seemed to make no sense.

They then saw Josie. They saw how she was doing better at Mystic Falls High and almost happy and content with herself. They blamed it on Josie, that the girl had someone influenced her sister into this; a kind coercion of sought. They brought up the black magic saga she had gone on. Seemed Lizzie was wrong, they hadn’t fully moved on, they just instead waited for the right time to strike with their words.

Oh, and try they did. They swore, cursed – seemed Alaric being gone for the time being really made them go more off the rails than this “protest” already was – hell, one even tried to attack Josie, had Hope not thrown him back.

Josie had backed up in fear, but also moved a bit in front of you; just in case.

Then there was Hope, the oldest of the Mikaelson siblings; the one that mirrored Klaus more and more every day more than you ever would.

They tried to provoke her. They tried to make it seem like it was her fault for your actions, as if she – like they had accused Josie of with Lizzie – swayed you into this decision. Hope knew it made no logical sense, but she was already growing more and more pissed, nails digging into her skin.

Hope knew that, if she needed another forest screaming session, this would have to wait. And there would be a lot more trees knocked down this time because of it.

Then. Then they made a mistake.

They looked at you.

They looked at you, the whole reason they had banded together.

The whole reason Lizzie had gone after them.

You.

To you, it was just noise. Your ears were ringing as you tried to remember the words Josie and Hope had given you before, along with the other affirmations your parents had given you.

Your friends had been there every step of the way. They had tried to do what they could. And now you had done and all they wanted was to help celebrate it and help you settle back into your life at the school.

Now though, now you were just being yelled at. You saw your friends look to you, and you saw the concern on their features as your eyes did fill with tears. But you also felt the hurt and pain inside, and how that morphed into two things; fight or flight.

As the leader of the group got closer to you, Hope was quick to fling him back.

As you heard what you didn’t doubt was a fight ensuing, you chose flight.

 You ran into Alaric’s office, glad for once that he was gone. You didn’t need him right now. Well, you did, but –

You knew you needed what had been done. You knew it, that was why you had it done. You knew you had support and you knew that not everyone would.

You just didn’t expect it to be so…extreme.

Maybe you could transfer along with Josie, maybe there they would –

“Y/N?” A voice asked. You turned, seeing the three at the entrance to the office, Josie and Lizzie with a cut and bruise or two, but nothing major.

Still –

You sat in the chair, face in your hands. You heard feet shuffle, a chair scrape, and someone grunt a bit as they sat on a table – as you heard papers being shuffled.

You felt someone put their hands on your shoulders, trying to massage them as best as she could.

“I’m sorry.” You said in utter despair, “I didn’t mean to –”

“You didn’t cause anything. Those guys were just assholes for the sake of it.” Lizzie was blunt, and used more colourful language, but it was what you loved about her.

You felt two hands grab both of yours and hold them in the gap between you and them, “They just can’t accept it. But, we’ve got your back on this. On anything. You deserve to be and look the way you want.” That was Josie.

So that meant – “I think I speak for all of us, when I say that we’d do it again.”

“You helped me out of my subconscious, helped me find my strength. And, if I’m honest, I’m jealous, Y/N, you took a stand for what you wanted and went for it.” You opened your eyes when Josie had stopped talking, seeing her soft face and gentle smile on her lips.

You sniffled a bit, looking to Lizzie, who rolled her eyes half heartedly but nodded with a smile.

Hope then moved out in front of you, “What do you say? You ready?” She asked, holding out a hand for you.

“Ready.” You confirmed, holding her hand and leaving with your three sisters.

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You got more smiles than you expected, but you smiled back as you all went back to your room. It  had been a day, even before this conflict, and you definitely needed your rest now.

You all made idol chatter as you went. Most of it about the school and Malivore, but you were calmer now. You were freer with each other.

It was like nothing had changed.

However –

“There they are, Doctor Saltzman.” One of the old group said as Alaric followed her, she even pointed to you as if he needed to know for sure.

Alaric looked to you four for an explanation.

As the other three went to speak, you put your hand up. They paused, looking to you. You gave them a smile, and went over to Alaric as the three trailed behind you.

“Doctor S, I’m sorry for the fight that happened. I didn’t want it to turn into a scrap. It was just a group of people not really liking what I’d done. But, to be honest, I didn’t really see how it effects them at all. All it did is help me and do good. I don’t see the bad. But, I am sorry for the fight.” You said, as calmly as you could.

Alaric nodded, “Thank you, Y/N. There’s gonna be some cleaning needed, but we’ll figure all that out after. I’m just glad you’re ok.” He said with a smile. With that, he passed you and went to the office, with the student following, this time in a sombre way.

You looked back at the three, who all smiled at you, “Come on, let’s go back. You’ve had a long day.” Hope offered, holding out her hand.

“I’ll go get the ice-cream.” Lizzie said, Josie going with her to help with the bowls.

You took your sisters hand, going back to your room.

Sure, there would always be naysayers about your choice. But, who were they to judge? They weren’t you.

The school was built on acceptance, not hate. And you were sure Alaric was going to instil it in that student or have them leave.

But, to you, you just felt better.

You felt at home, both internally and externally.

You let out a breath of content.

[ouyangzizhensdad]

Hey I enjoy your metas and even ramblings so I just wanted to ask a question and let you have at it. How do you think NMJ would feel about NHS avenging him? Proud that he could pull it off? If not proud at least impressed? Or completely disappointed that he would stoop to such a level?

Hi anon, 

Glad that you are enjoying the meta and (even!😉) the ramblings. 

That’s a very interesting question. In the novel, we are shown that NMJ takes revenge and the idea of justice very seriously, especially when wrongs were done to a member of his family. So I think it is fair to say that Nie Mingjue would have no quarrels with the abstract idea of his step-half-brother avenging his death. 

Lan Xichen knew that because of what happened to his father, Nie Mingjue abhorred Wen-dogs more than anything, especially with how intolerable he was toward evil.

But, as the same passage mentions, he also cannot tolerate evil. Something reiterated more than once in the novel.

No matter dead or alive, the person Jin Guangyao was most scared of was none but this sworn brother of his whose temper tolerated no evil.

He has a very rigid understanding of right and wrong, and feels very confident that he can determine right from wrong. He is portrayed as someone who sees a single path to righteousness, and lives his life making sure he never strays from that path. If doing the right thing requires him to talk back to an elder, for instance, then so be it. 

In spite of Nie Mingjue being a junior to Jin Guangshan, he conducted himself in a strict manner and refused to tolerate Xue Yang no matter what. With an angry lecture, Jin Guangshan was left with no words and a great deal of embarrassment. Nie Mingjue, as the irritable person he was, unsheathed his saber on the spot with the intention of killing Xue Yang. [...] The LanlingJin Sect was indeed the sect with the thickest face. Although, on Jinling Tower, it promised in front of all of the sects that Xue Yang would be executed, when it left Nie Mingjue’s sight, it immediately shut Xue Yang into the dungeons and changed the original decision to a life sentence. Hearing about the matter, Nie Mingjue was enraged and pressed on them again. The LanlingJin Sect rambled about, refusing to give him Xue Yang no matter how hard he tried. All of the other sects watched them from the sidelines, but, shortly afterward, Nie Mingjue passed away from a qi deviation.

And of course he is uncompromising in his judgement of others who does not follow the same path and believes in such cases that punishment is always deserved/a form of justice. Of course, the narration also underlines that this has not only to do with NMJ’s strong sense of ethics, but also his emotional intensity and temper. NMJ is prone to anger and it is said that people know not to argue their cases because “the more one tried to explain, the angrier he was”. As well, NMJ is also short-sighted in that he believes that others follow a righteous path, that justice and fairness will prevail as if other concerns and matters didn’t end up factoring in the balance.

Meng Yao looked up at once. Nie Mingjue continued, “On your own, go confess to the LanlingJin Sect and receive your punishment. Let them deal with you whichever way they deem fit.”

With a moment of hesitation, Meng Yao replied, “…Chifeng-Zun, I can’t give up now that I’m already here.”

Nie Mingjue, “To get here, you took the wrong path.”

Meng Yao, “You’re going to be sending me to my death.”

Nie Mingjue, “If your words are true, it won’t happen. Go, reflect, and turn over a new leaf.”

Of course, it’s not like we only see him push for punishments: he is shown to be as willing to reward righteousness.

Under such circumstances, Meng Yao, the one whom relentlessly cleared the battlefield and helped the commoners after each battle, received more and more attention from Nie Mingjue. A few times later, Nie Mingjue directly promoted him to his side to be his deputy.

That path to righteousness is also seemingly about the methods used. He values those who stand up for their beliefs, head on, without artifice. He is, himself, someone who does things in a “direct, forceful fashion".

[Talking about MianMian] “The woman has much more backbone than the mob of her sect,” said Nie Mingjue.

And, of course, he judges those who use cunning, underhanded ways.

Behind the sea of Sparks Amidst Snow, the Venerated Trio gathered. Lan Xichen spoke, “Brother, you have worked hard.”

Jin Guangyao grinned, “It wasn’t hard work. Who had to work hard was Jiang-zongzhu’s table. He clenched a few of its parts to crumbles. Looks like he really was angered.”

Nie Mingjue walked over, “All clever talk—hard work indeed.”

His relationship with Meng Yao disintegrated because he could not respect or trust the way he operated. He despised his lies, his two-facedness, the calculated nature of his plots. 

Nie Mingjue looked at him, who shivered as tears gleamed in his eyes. The contrast between the scene and how he calmly killed someone was too stark. The impact was so great that the image still hadn’t faded from his mind. He spoke, “Meng Yao, let me ask you. The first time I saw you, did you purposely act for me in that pitiful way, so that I’d come to your rescue? If I didn’t, would you have done what you did today and killed all of those people?”

Meng Yao’s Adam’s apple bobbed, where a drop of cold sweat rolled off. Just as he was about to speak, Nie Mingjue ordered, “Don’t lie in front of me!”

Taking all of that into account, I think it’s fair to extrapolate that NMJ would have completely disapproved of NHS’s revenge plot. If NHS had gone to stand in front of JGY, exposed all he knew and challenged him to a duel--then NMJ probably couldn’t have been prouder. But the lying? The long con, the two-facedness of hiding behind his yiwensanbuzhi persona? The collateral damage? The manipulation of others to achieve his means? NMJ wouldn’t have stood by it, would have probably seen it as evil, and I think that this is something that NHS must at least be aware of, deep down. But considering that NHS never managed to meet NMJ’s standards in terms of his schooling and cultivation (even if NMJ loved him all the same), it probably wasn’t too difficult to justify doing things in a manner that would absolutely contradict what NMJ valued. After all, he could never be the kind of man that his brother wanted him to grow up to be, never could be the same kind of sect leader he or their father were. 

And I think that was absolutely intentional on MXTX’s part, to have this sort of dramatic irony to the revenge that NMJ’s resentful corpse ultimately gets to have. His corpse gets to attack and straightforwardly take revenge on JGY, but the methods needed to bring him there made his step-half-brother into the very sort of man he despised and distrusted.

[pridewhatpride]

omg pls talk more about GX rival shipping once the transfer students come

Dear anon, I love you for asking this of me, but I have to wonder if you want everyone who follows me to start hating me.

Long post coming up? You know it. I apologise to all Johan fans, he's great and I loved him and his deck as a child. Now I'm just salty because he's too perfect. Warning because this is a mess of unrequited feelings and it's an all around bad time if you ship anything in gx. I did mention I do not practice self care in a previous post of mine. Enjoy your pain c:

So here are my bad takes of the day, under the very handy cut!

You see, gx rivalshipping becomes a lot more complicated and angsty when the transfer students arrive. The dynamic changes. If there is a dynamic at all. I mean, imagine yourself in Manjoume's shoes. You've lowkey had a crush on this dumb guy who kind of ruined your life (but actually improved it and freed you from the restraints your family imposed on you), just to watch a handsome scandinavian dude who is a lot more muscular than you are and maybe a little bit nicer, maybe just waltz in and completely captivate said dumb guy's attention. Just when you had managed to admit your own feelings to yourself.

Johan comes in and steals the room, everybody loves him, he's good looking, charismatic, kind and has a magical exclusive shiny sparkling deck at his disposal that he uses as if it was the most natural thing in the world, like he hadn't received approval Pegasus himself on top of the duel spirits. And Judai clearly can't get enough of it, because he's always seeking him out, ever since the duel they had in front of everyone, and Manjoume finds that he's really annoyed by it. He wishes he'd been chosen for the demonstration, deluding himself into believing that if he'd won, Judai would have never started caring so damn much about Johan. But a part of him knows he would have probably lost and that even if he hadn't, Judai would have not cared about the outcome at all. It's nice to think that winning a card game can solve all your problems, but, while Manjoume has only ever experienced how much losing one can mess with your life goals, he isn't stupid enough to think that winning would grant him happiness. Not anymore. No well-thought-out strategy can rid him of his bad temper and his worthless pride.

The thing is, he can't really hate Johan, because nobody can hate Johan. He's just the perfect picture of everything Manjoume isn't and, going by everyone's reaction, the fact that 'everyone is unique in their own way and worthy of love' is absolute bullshit. There clearly is an objective better one of the two and Manjoume is very aware that he isn't it. And he'd probably begrundgingly be cool with it, after all he'd accepted that Jaden was braver than him, that Asuka was emotionally stronger and more resolute, that Daichi was smarter, not to mention how much plain better than him his fomer upperclassmen were. Forget about pros like Edo, whom Judai had stood on equal grounds with. But Judai is clearly playing favourites, too, hell, he hardly even acknowledges Manjoume.

He finds himself forcibly removed from his already shaky position as rival, because now Johan is there to take it up, on top of the titles of 'best friend' and 'emotional support and crutch' and 'maybe something else I'd really rather not know'.

Manjoume just generally hates it all. He might have changed and improved himself, but there is no saving him from the fact that some people were just better. That doesn't stop him from trying. But again he finds himself pitted against Judai, the irony of his fate never giving him a moment to rest. Manipulated and turned into the enemy of those he cares about, again.

A part of him despises how good it feels to learn that Johan has gone missing, but Judai is screaming like his arms have been torn off and while he hates that it's all for Johan, he hates that Judai is in pain even more. Judai had saved him before and it's only right for him to return the favour. So he insists on helping him on his stupidly risky plan to save Johan. And it's all to get the old Judai back.

...The rest, from Manjoume's perspective is a mess. His feelings of anger stem from the hatred he harbours towards himself and the bond between Judai and Johan. He'd been trying to help, he had, he sincerely had, but everything just swirled together and the next thing he knows is that he is shouting at Judai because it suddenly made sense to guilt trip him over the fact that he'd abandoned his friends, he'd abandoned him as soon as someone better had come into the picture. And it was Judai's fault for letting them- him believe that he cared when he didn't, when he couldn't have cared less, because clearly he had one priority only and that was Johan. They had come to help and it still wasn't being appreciated.

Disappearing is a relief, for a moment, but then he finds himself in another hellish place and he can't help but think that it's retribution for being so upset over something that has nothing to do with him. That's right. It's his own fault for making Judai, his only real friend (aside from Fubuki, sorry for breaking the immersion, but I love Fubuki), carry the burden of the stupid hopes that came with his feelings. Judai has no fault. Johan has no fault. It's his own for desiring something that would always be out of reach.

As he is tortured by his own thoughts and regrets in the other dimension, Manjoume silently wishes his words meant nothing to Judai, that he'd be spared the pain of betrayal. He wishes Judai can achieve his goal.

When Shou appears to him, he knows there is no time to waste. If he is alive, the others are, too. Judai would want to know that they are safe. So he asks Shou to carry his message, along with his good luck wish. He hopes it's enough to make up for his mistakes.

Next thing he knows, they are back at DA, Judai is nowhere to be seen. Manjoume mourns the loss of his first and only friend and curses himself for tarnishing that memory. (Judai's return and season 4 would be too much to cover, this was only Manjoume's pov and I might as well just rewrite the entire show at this point.)

So what about Judai?

I personally want to believe that he genuinely does like Manjoume at some point. But as much as it pains me to admit it, season 3 just wrote Manjoume off from the list of main characters and relegated him to 'he's your funny comic relief, nobody really gives a shit about what he thinks or feels, so why should you, the spectator who has grown to love him, care at all? Also here's his sticker that confirms that Judai going after Johan makes him really angry for some reason, make of that what you will c:' (fuck the writing staff, I'm not even sorry).

Judai is so clearly smitten with Johan. It seems to me that his refusal to accept Manjoume's help that one time on the cliff shows that Judai doesn't really understand the way Jun operates. He probably labeled him as just someone else who counted on him to be saved. And sure, Manjoume is saved by Judai in multiple occasions, but he doesn't ever really... ask for it? Or more importantly expect it. He doesn't get himself into situations he can't handle because Judai can save him anyways, the trouble just kind of happens at him and more often than not he's only involved by accident, because he happens to be close to Judai.

The problem still stands, as season 3 starts, Judai is very much burdened by everyone's expectations and Johan is a breath of fresh air and the only one Judai actually considers a friend and an equal. It's heartbreaking that he felt that alone.

They get their gay 'have we met somewhere before moment', they duel gaily, they homoerotically tell eachother how admirable the other is, they shamelessly flirt and whoohoo Judai has an unofficial boyfriend and who can blame him for concentrating on him along with wanting to escape the pressure his former gang unknowingly laid on him.

But yeah, Judai in season 3 has a one track mind and it's hard not to see it as romantic. Does he know it is? Maybe? I honestly don't know. I feel like Johan is the one of the two who is aware of the implications of their interactions. Which also kind of brings me to say... does Johan think that all of Judai's friends are horrible people? Because he never once comments on how Judai distances himself from them once he arrives. He probably thinks they were never good friends in the first place.

Judai probably excuses his attentions towards Johan with the fact that they are alike because they can see spirits, but then he rememebers that so can Manjoume and maybe he feels guilty for a second, but Johan cracks a joke and Judai laughs and thinks to himself that Manjoume is probably happy to have the peace and quiet he so often claimed to want.

Like... I think a part of him would get that tightness in his chest because it's like he's betrayed someone, but he knows he hasn't, because there isn't any actual mutual agreement he's going against. So he lets himself fall deeper into the comfort of Johan's presence. Johan is, to Judai, the ideal person. He is exactly who Judai wants to become. Judai admires him very deeply and strives to be more like him, but he falls gradually into despair as he learns, once Johan is gone, that no, he can't be like him, because Johan is so much better than him, and if he doesn't get him back soon he might even forget what he was like in the first place. Johan can't be erased, can't be forgotten. And Judai feels like he's vanishing already, so he throws himself into a wild interdimensional manhunt to save his hopes for the future.

Turns out that wanting to do good doens't always result in a good outcome. That's what Judai learns when Manjoume lashes out at him just seconds before disappearing. Along with the others, too. Judai doesn't even have the brain power to compute that some people are still there, that he can still save someone, because he realised then that he had focused so much on Johan that he'd completely overlooked the fact that while his friends relied on him a little too much, they hadn't meant any harm. And if he'd just told them, maybe they would have been fine, they could've cooperated- but Manjoume had told him that he was a traitor, that he'd doomed them with his irrational behaviour.

Manjoume's last words to him had been spoken with hatred and Judai realised only then that he had misread him entirely. He lets despair and self hatred take over as he realises that if he had managed to hurt the ones he cared about so easily, discarding them for the new good thing, he could just keep doing that. And it would stop hurting, eventually.

I like to think that Manjoume really does have an impact on the awakening of the Supreme King. Yeah, I know he only turns once Johan's death is mentioned, I know. I just suffer from abandonment issues and can't stand that Manjoume dying in front of him is more impactful to Judai than a guy who literally can't be trusted saying "Joke's on you, the one you're looking for is in another castle already dead."

So yeah. That's the angsty overview.

TL;DR Johan is an Adonis, Judai is smitten and Manjoume is very very heartbroken. But actually so is Judai. Because while being with Johan feels right, there's someone whose absence feels wrong, but he doesn't allow himself to dwell on it and everything goes to shit. All around a bad time for everyone and they'll have a lot of talking to do once they properly reconcile after graduation.

[kaminobiwan]

father figure

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x jedi!reader (though there’s not much jedi-ing just dumbassery on Obi’s part)

summary: Obi-Wan feels unneeded. You’re there to remind him he’s not. Idk how to summarize hahdjfn

a/n: I just love this scene from episode III so much, it’s my hc that it’s happened before. This is my first fic I’m ever posting in my six years of tumblr! I’m so excited to share it with you guys. Feedback and comments are incredibly welcome, and I’m always here for a chat! I hope you guys enjoy :-)

Obi-Wan is no stranger to failure.

In fact, depending on the point of view, he was quite familiar with it - his years as a youngling held many a blunder, and one didn’t reach the status as a well-respected Jedi Master without learning from many, many mistakes.

Still, he can’t help but admit that the feeling of messing up utterly sucked.

His former student, on the other hand, seems to be perfectly amicable with the experience - if he even stopped to acknowledge the instances in the first place. Even at 20 years old, Anakin is as nonchalant as ever when it comes to getting caught in a sticky situation.

Like right now, as the pair of them dangle from an absurdly long curtain out of the window of a Coruscanti high rise, 80-some floors in the air.

Obi-Wan struggles against the breeze and tightens his grip around Anakin’s neck, biting back a groan. Normally, he’d have the sense to feel embarrassed clinging to his Padawan like a human backpack, but his head is still spinning from a backhanded hit from a Devaronian - the very blow that had sent him and Anakin crashing through the window, at the mercy of the expensive fabric that shaded every room of the building they were currently hanging from.

“How’re you holding up, Master?” Anakin grunts, and Obi-Wan is unsure if the pun is intended or not. He decides to ignore it entirely.

“This is why I always tell you to think these plans through -“ a gust of wind ruffles both of their hair, “so we don’t end up in such predicaments.”

He wishes he could have one uneventful week on leave. It’s not enough that his time on the frontlines looks to have no foreseeable end, but even between missions, trouble seems to follow his makeshift family to the capital city. He only hopes Ahsoka is studying in the archives as he’d instructed her to before Anakin had dragged him away to pursue a pair of slythmongers meeting at a swanky hotel in the derrick major.

Apparently, he had overheard the details of the transaction on his way back from a lunch out - from the Senate District, no less - and had been on his merry way before his old master had stopped him. Obi-Wan was pretty sure Anakin was trying to find any excuse to get out of his scheduled session to train the younglings at the temple, but he couldn’t argue against interrupting a smuggling ring, especially when it had to do with drugs. He still remembered the havoc that had followed when Vos and Aayla had been forced to take glitteryll and had temporarily lost their memories...

And if there’s one thing Obi-Wan hates, it’s letting Anakin throw himself in the path of danger under his watch. Force knows that boy will drag Obi-Wan to an early, stress-filled grave.

Anakin pauses before speaking. “Master, this was your idea.”

Right - that too.

“My idea was to wait and see if we could catch the person that orchestrated the deal along with the smugglers, to have patience,” he tries not to sound too defensive, but multitasking while trying to find a foothold on the slippery glass of the window pane is near impossible, and maintaining his usually cool exterior is not a price he’s willing to pay for falling to his death. He isn’t sure he could use the Force to break his fall with a mild concussion.

“Honestly, Master, I appreciate your help, but you really didn’t have to come.” Anakin’s metal fingers flex around the curtain. “My arms are getting a little tired holding the both of us.”

Obi-Wan bristles at the comment. “We wouldn’t even be in this situation if you hadn’t snuck off to see Senator Amidala during her afternoon recess.”

“Yes, and there would still be an illegal drug deal happening right now, so I’m not sure I’m getting your point.”

“My point is,” he snaps, readjusting his grip, “none of this will have been worth it if one of them wakes up and finds us in such a comprising position.” Obi-Wan knows he dropped his lightsaber before the fall. Judging by both of Anakin’s hands gripping the curtain fabric - that is positively straining under the burden of their weight - his saber is either in the room as well, or smashed to irreparable bits on the ground below. Obi-Wan groans internally. Wouldn’t be the first time.

He feels Anakin tense under him, and his hair itches Obi-Wan’s face as he tilts his head up. “Well, we’re about to test that theory, because someone’s coming.” Anakin’s voice is tinged with unpunctual worry as Obi-Wan finally senses the rapid footsteps towards the shattered window. Maker, he got hit hard.

But he’s sure he can recognize the familiar presence anywhere, and sure enough, your head pops out of the window as he swallows his enlivenment down with a smile.

“What,” you stare down at the both of them, and Obi-Wan is sure that the view must be positively comical from where you’re standing, “are you doing?”

You’re much less happier to see them than Obi-Wan is to see you, and he wonders if your incredulous exasperation is directed towards him or Anakin. Probably both.

“Waiting for you to save the day, of course,” he quips. You snort in response, and he notes the glow of your hair in the mid-afternoon sunlight. If you weren’t looking like you were completely done with him, and his head wasn’t throbbing incessantly, and he wasn’t dangling hundreds of feet in the air, he might have admired the sight of you.

He always did have a penchant for having ill-timed observations.

Anakin interrupts his thought with a strained plea for assistance before you finally reach your hand out to grab his flesh one, though not before shaking your head.

“I swear, it’ll be your own stupidity that will kill you two before the war does.” Though your voice is stern, Obi-Wan can see the affectionate relief in your eyes as he’s pulled up by the both of you. “And you can bet that I won’t always be there to save your sorry skins.”

Yep, Obi-Wan thinks, it’s both.

———

It’s a short ride back to the temple in the air taxi you’d commandeered on the way to their rescue, though how you’d even known to come, Obi-Wan has no clue. He’d been sent to the back seat while Anakin occupied the passenger beside you, meekly tinkering with his mechno-arm with the occasional guilty glance back at his master. Though you’d been humoured upon finding them in the hotel, you’d been silent the whole ride, save for a tired demand of Anakin’s recap of the disastrous operation. Though, to their credit - they had successfully apprehended the slythmongers present. Even if it was only because you’d arrived with the police.

Obi-Wan knows that despite you being the midpoint between his and Anakin’s ages, Anakin still sees you as a substitute parent, especially since you’d been the one to comfort the former Padawan in his worst hours of homesickness. Despite no longer being the same innocent child from Tatooine, Anakin still hates to disappoint you. It’s written all over his face, clear as day for Obi-Wan to see.

What he can’t tell, however, is if you are as disappointed as your silence suggests. You certainly don’t look mad, but you haven’t met his gaze since you’d pulled him from the window.

It’s starting to get to him too.

Soon, you’ve arrived at the Temple, docking smoothly to a stop as Anakin turns to you with a rare look of remorse. “Thanks for saving our skins back there, Master.” His tone is sincere, as it always is with you. “Who knows how long we’d have been hanging there if you hadn’t showed up.”

You blink at him in acknowledgment, a corner of your mouth lifting slightly. “As much as I enjoy spending time in the crèche, maybe inform me fully the next time you ask me to cover a training session so you can run off to fight crime?”

Anakin nods enthusiastically, and sends Obi-Wan one last look before reaching for the door to leave.

“Be sure to report to Master Yoda so he can reschedule your instruction slot,” you call as he exits the speeder. “You’ll learn to handle the younglings yet, Skywalker.”

And then, you’re alone. And he’s nervous.

Not necessarily because of your uncharacteristic demeanor, though he is still trying to get a read on you. More than that, he’s on edge with the same nagging feeling he always gets when he’s around you, amplified whenever the two of you are by yourselves. While you’re the person Obi-Wan feels most at ease with, at home with - he also can’t deny the persistent tug that pulls his heart towards you every time you look his way.

But right now, you’re not. You’re gazing at the distant traffic ahead of you, gently tapping the bend of your elbow. Obviously deep in thought.

Obi-Wan stares at you from his seat, unsure whether to speak first. “Thank you,” he begins, “not just for the save. You could have been much harsher with him, and you weren’t. I appreciate it.”

“From what I heard, Obi-Wan, you’re just as much to blame for that spectacular plan,” your voice is much sharper now, and Obi-Wan winces at the irony that he’s just thanked you for the lenience you’re now depriving him of. “If not more.”

He knows he shouldn’t push you while you’re like this. He can tell you’re bothered, but why, he doesn’t know. Why are you so concerned?

“To be fair, I couldn’t let Anakin go charging in alone.”

“Honestly, I thought you’d know better than to try and stop him by now.”

He can’t help the surprise that paints his face as his eyes flash up to yours. It certainly isn’t what he’d expected you to say. “What?”

Finally, finally, you turn sideways in your seat and your gaze meets his, and even though he’s as confused as he’s ever been around you, the sight of your eyes is enough to placate him a fraction. Still, he’s bewildered at your statement. He clears his throat before speaking again. “You expect me to just let him loose on the galaxy? The boy’s only just become a knight, and only because of the need sparked by the war.”

“That’s exactly the point, Obi, he’s a knight,” you’re quick to reply, though your expression softens as you utter the nickname. “You can’t be looming over his shoulder anymore. You shouldn’t be. Force’s sake, he’s got a Padawan of his own now.”

“Only just,” Obi-Wan replies stubbornly, and later he’ll chalk it up to the concussion for his behavior. But deep down, he knows you’re right. He’d been inserting himself into Anakin’s missions. And until now, he hadn’t recognized the reason why.

Anakin had grown up.

Anakin had grown up, and he didn’t need him anymore.

Obi-Wan was well aware that he’d trained the boy as best he could. The pride that engulfed him every time he looked at Anakin was no secret, especially to you. But there would always be the painful reminder of abandonment along with it, almost as persistent as his fondness for you. Those feelings, at least, were kept hidden down deep. He still had a reputation to maintain, after all, but it’s hard to combat your incessant empathy. Not that he’s complaining.

You reach for his hand where it’s gripping the back of your seat. “Oh, Obi-Wan,” your voice is a murmur that has him leaning forwards to hear. “I know.” You fix with a firm look, as if you’re repeating the words with your gaze. He swears you can see right through him. You’ve always been better at emotions between the two of you.

“Promise me,” you blink at him with knowing eyes, “that you’ll end the secret chaperoning. Otherwise, he’ll never get over his father figure issues with you.”

“His - what?” Obi-Wan blurts out for the second time, and you pull away and laugh. A beat passes before you shake your head again.

“Don’t tell me you’re not aware, Obi. We don’t have the time to walk through it. You should be with the healers by now.” You shift to exit the speeder as well, and he finds himself chasing your hand before moving to leave himself. You approach a Padawan on the platform and instruct him to return the taxi with payment as Obi-Wan regains his composure and falls in line with you towards the Temple.

“You know, I don’t remember you claiming the role of the ‘responsible one’,” he jokes, despite the dull buzz in his head. He feels lighthearted now, better, even.

You smile softly at him, but he can tell you’re suppressing the urge to roll your eyes. “We rotate the duty around. Maker knows you’re not actually the goody-two-shoes Master Yoda thinks you are, joining your Padawan’s escapades the first chance you get. Do I need to remind you why you had to cut off the mullet?”

“Because you like me better with short hair?” He grins boyishly back at you, pushing down the desire to touch hands again. “I do promise, you know. No more trying to reign him in. I suppose the day was bound to come when he’d leave me behind.”

He smothers the twinge of regret with an amused tone, but still, he knows you sense it. He’s thankful, anyhow. There never was a need for explanations with you.

“He’ll always need you, Obi-Wan. We all will.” You punctuate the comment with a lingering pat on his arm, and Obi-Wan’s heart tugs again. No attachments, a voice in his head reminds him.

But he hopes it’s true what you say. He’d hate to see you leave him behind, too.

[shatapatrika]

This is for a D&D fan dragon character [url] https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/49345070[/url]

The story is a bit too spicy for the site so I’m posting it here instead

Maroz had never expected to ever run into another of her kind. Given that aasimar manifested, rather than reproducing the way other races did, they just didn’t have the numbers to congregate into anything like a society, so she had simply accepted as a matter of fact that she would proceed through her existence alone among the other races.

She’d been contracted as a bodyguard for some spoiled little princess as a favor - her parents had owed a debt to the Goldwood family and had sold the Syet’s services for a period of time as a means of paying them back - and she encountered another aasimar as he was attempting to murder her charge.

The first and possibly last of her kind that she would ever meet, and he was Fallen. Maroz would later reflect that there was almost a poetic irony in that.

As much as she had disliked being forced to protect Aradia Goldwood - who was the most self-centered, stuck-up teenaged brat she had ever met and considering her own family this was truly saying something - Maroz was nevertheless a paladin and her oath dictated that she fight the greater evil.

The battle had been oddly thrilling. The second she had locked eyes with his glowing golden gaze, something inside of her came to attention, and she could tell immediately that he’d felt it too. It was as if their shared celestial heritage had reached out across the divide between them, and despite being able to quite literally smell the stench of a demon’s claim upon him, she still found herself wanting to draw out the fight as long as she could.

They were nearly evenly matched - it was something of a first for Maroz to actually have to look up slightly to meet someone’s gaze, and the power of his blows when they crossed weapons was strong enough for her to consider drawing another.

She was slightly hampered from having to defend her idiotic charge, who had not run off like Maroz had instructed but instead stayed a short distance away, watching the fight with tears in her eyes. Maroz kept trying to draw the other aasimar further back but he always managed to maneuver closer again.

When she saw him reach into his boot and pull out a weapon that practically radiated hellfire, Maroz panicked, and her celestial power manifested in a pair of luminous wings. The intense brightness made her opponent recoil, and she took the opportunity to grab her charge and leap skyward, praying to Tyr with all her might that she could use the wings to fly.

He must have been listening closely that day for the wings not only held them both aloft but lasted long enough for her to fly them to the safety of the Goldwood manor. They had no sooner alit upon one of the battlements when the wings flickered and faded away.

Maroz set Aradia on her feet, and the girl collapsed into a sobbing heap. Sending another prayer up for patience, Maroz finally managed to coax the story out of the girl.

The assassin had been operating under the guise of courting Aradia - sending small gifts and letters to woo her out from under the keen eye of her father, and Aradia had finally agreed to meet him earlier that day, having no idea she’d be meeting a killer instead of a lover. If it hadn’t been for Maroz’s divine senses warning her of danger, Aradia would have perished at the assassin’s hand.

The name he’d given Aradia was Arkos Aurum, which almost certainly had to be a fake name, but after doing some digging and asking around, Maroz discovered that the arrogant fool was, in fact, using his own name rather than an alias. He was the favored assassin of a fire demon by the name of Mephistopheles, and given that he’d killed most of the people he came in contact with, it probably didn’t matter if his marks knew his name or not.

No one seemed to know where he resided, although if he was in a demon’s pocket he probably had access to the kind of transportation magic that would let him come and go as he pleased. Maroz was startled to learn that his parents had both been aasimar as well, which was very unusual indeed.

She’d taken the pertinent parts of what she’d learned to her employer, and Lord Goldwood had turned a pastier shade of white than he already was at the name of the demon.

Maroz had been curious why the assassin had targeted Aradia - spoiled brat she might be, but as far as Maroz knew the girl had done nothing to draw the attention of a demon. Her father, on the other hand, was clearly a different story.

He’d gone into debt to Mephistopheles seventeen years ago trying to find a cure for his beloved wife’s barrenness, and had fallen behind on his loan. Not out of lack of funds, as his wealthy estate spoke volumes about the state of his coffers. No, he’d decided that he’d paid enough coin to a demon and didn’t want to “endanger his immortal soul” any further than he already had.

Hence him calling in his favor with the Yarkays for protection.

Mephistopheles had apparently decided that if Lord Goldwood wasn’t going to pay for the results he’d gotten, he shouldn’t get to keep said results, hence the assassin targeting the daughter rather than her parents.

After taking some time to meditate and ask Tadriel for guidance, Maroz concluded that, stupid though Lord Goldwood had been to renege on his deal, Mephistopheles was the greater evil here, and his assassin wasn’t going to accept defeat so easily. Maroz had never fought a higher demon before, and she certainly wasn’t going to do so alone, so she contacted the head of her order and laid out her dilemma. They agreed to send several paladins in the area to her location, so they could convene and make a plan of attack.

In the meantime, Maroz had to fend off Arkos three more times, each battle harder and more furious than the last. She discovered that he was indeed a warlock the night he managed to portal into Aradia’s bedroom, which raised some interesting questions about just how far he’d gotten in his seduction of the girl.

Surprisingly, though, he preferred to use his weapons rather than his magic - Maroz sensed it might be something of a point of pride with him. She had no such qualms and used every spell she had the strength to use in order to keep him at bay.

He also never reached for that hellfire dagger again, never mind that it probably would have won him the fight, which told her there was something more going on than him attempting to complete a job, so despite her common and divine sense both screaming at her to reconsider, she tackled him back through the portal he’d made.

“Close it,” she hissed, rising to a crouch above his prone form with her sword at his throat. His golden eyes blazed in frustration before he finally closed them and complied. Maroz backed away and let him rise to his feet - a risk, to be sure, but taking a quick look around, she saw they were in what appeared to be his bedroom, and she’d noticed how meticulous he seemed to be about his appearance the one time she’d ruined what had apparently been a favorite coat of his, so she doubted he’d want to risk a fight amidst such a significant collection of his finery.

She held her sword at the ready, just in case.

“You can put that away, I’m done fighting for now,” he grumbled, brushing himself off and straightening his clothes. He tsked when he noticed a tear in one of the cuffs of his shirt, and without so much as a by your leave he whisked it off and tossed it into a corner of the room, which held a pile of what were probably similarly damaged articles of clothing.

Maroz cursed her pale complexion as she felt her entire face flush hotly at his boldness in undressing in front of her, but she didn’t dare turn her back. Unwittingly, she felt her gaze drift along his well-muscled torso, and cursed inwardly at having to face such a handsome opponent in this way. He smiled slyly when he noticed her discomfort.

“Shy, are we? I didn’t realize the paladin orders were requiring a vow of chastity now,” he murmured, and looked her up and down with a lingering glance, which made her blush even harder under his frank administration. “Pity, our little brawl has me all fired up and it’s been ages since I tumbled someone strong enough to give me that kind of a run for my money.”

Maroz stuttered for a second before finding her tongue.

“Oh, teenagers aren’t enough [i]sport[/i] for you, assassin?” She hissed, starting to bring her sword back up, because shirt or no shirt, she wasn’t going to stand here and take that kind of attitude from a man who went around seducing children.

And she wasn’t some blushing virgin, no matter her current countenance, but who wouldn’t be at least a little uncomfortable in the face of such an absolute lack of propriety?

“No need for that judging tone, my dear, the job is distasteful but we all do what we must to survive. And please, call me Arkos.”

“I’m not your dear, and I’ll call you by name when I’ve sent you to-”

“Hell?” He chuckled. “Been there, done that, got the singed clothes to prove it. The brimstone stench never does come out of leather,” he sighed in remembered dismay.

Then he leaned forward - when had he gotten so close?! - and thrust a hand against the wall she’d put her back to, caging her in. His other reached up and placed a finger against her lips, silencing her protest.

“Shhshsh, we’re about to have company, and not the polite sort either. Drop your sword, play along and we’ll both survive.”

With that, he grabbed hold of her and switched their positions, with her now laid out along his body and her hands braced against the wall, the sword clattering to the ground, while his hands migrated, one straying to her waist and the other drifting up to grab her neck and direct her into a passionate kiss.

Her eyes went wide with shock as he moaned loudly, and for all that the sound was theatrically exaggerated, they were pressed so tightly together that she could tell there was nothing fake about his… enthusiasm. Maroz let out a muffled noise of protest when he grabbed her bottom and dragged her closer, hitching her leg over his hip, but that only gave him further access to her mouth, which he plundered with shameless abandon.

Her pulse was pounding in her ears, her blood felt like it was on fire, and the longer he kissed her, the harder it became to remember why this wasn’t something she should be doing. She’d felt drawn to him from the very beginning, but never had she imagined that attraction would take such a physical form. She was shook by the strength of her body’s visceral reaction to him, the sheer amount of [i]want[/i] he’d unleashed in her, and ultimately she found herself giving in. He ground her body slowly against his, then faster, picking up a rhythm that had both of them moaning in tandem, until the door to the room was violently kicked open, startling them into breaking the kiss.

Maroz started to go for her sword, which had landed on the ground a short distance away, but Arkos’ warning squeeze on her neck reminded her that there was a part to be played here, and she reached instead for a near-forgotten memory of finding one of her ditzier siblings in a similar situation.

Slumping against him, she arranged her features into a pout and languidly turned her head to look at the intruders.

It took everything she had not to visibly react to seeing a demon standing slightly behind two very large thugs. She lowered her lashes, and said in a drawl, “Honey, you didn’t mention this was gonna be a party, I’d’a dressed up different. I know you like all that role-playin’ stuff but you gotta tell me these things ahead of time so’s I can… prepare.” She turned back to Arkos and all but purred the last word into his face, walking her fingers up his naked chest before wiggling them meaningfully at him. She silently relished his poleaxed expression before he managed to recover his smarmy façade.

“No, my dear,” he smiled reassuringly at her and stroked away the stray hair that had come free from her braid during their embrace, tucking it behind her ear. “Tonight’s party was only meant for two, don’t you fret. I know you charge extra for… extras.”

The two thugs growled, but the demon chuckled, a soft sound that raised the hair on the back of Maroz’s neck. Arkos soothed her wordlessly, rubbing his other hand up and down her back, and she realized she’d started to stiffen up, body unconsciously reacting to a threat, and she forced herself to relax against him again.

“It never fails to astonish me how you half-breeds always seem to manage to find one another, despite the incredible odds,” Mephistopheles said, tone dripping with gleeful malice. “And I would be downright shocked at discovering one had turned to whoring but then again, I do know Arkos, so.” There was a rustle of fabric, and Maroz could practically see the nonchalant shrug that accompanied it.

Arkos laughed, a short, bitter bark of a sound.

“Yes, you do know me, but I’ll thank you not to recount all my sins or we’ll be here the rest of the night, and I only paid for a few hours.”

“You’ll pay for more than that if you don’t start doing your [i]job[/],” the demon hissed, his civilized demeanor dropping away like the discarded mask that it was. Maroz could feel the temperature of the room start to rise, and she began mentally running through the invocation for a magic circle. Her best bet was probably to cast it around Mephistopheles rather than the two of them… it wouldn’t be enough to stop the thugs since humans weren’t the intended targets of the spell, but if she couldn’t hold a demon with it then she didn’t deserve her rank as a paladin.

To her surprise, though, Arkos laughed again, and this time there was true amusement in the sound.

“Have I ever once failed you, Mephisto?” He said chidingly. “I’ve always gotten the job done, regardless of whatever it takes, or how long it takes to get it done. This one’s just… taking a little longer than I expected, is all.” He shrugged, in a ‘what can you do’ sort of way, and to Maroz’s amazement, Mephistopheles seemed to be appeased by this statement.

“True, very true. You are… annoyingly thorough about your work when you decide to be. Just don’t let anymore… distractions get in the way. This job is an important one, I’m under pressure myself here so I’d appreciate a bit more speed in the execution. Apparently there’s a prophecy involved and one of the higher ups would prefer it not… come to fruition, as it were. Frankly, I was hoping to find you with the girl so I could at least report that there was no need to worry about her getting pregnant by some holier-than-thou twit of a knight… ah well, no sense in a demon hoping for a miracle, eh? Eh?”

His thugs startled into awkward laughter, and Arkos chuckled along as well. Maroz gave a nervous little titter, and clutched onto Arkos a little more tightly. It was looking more and more like this encounter somehow [i]wouldn’t[/i] end in bloodshed and hellfire, but she wasn’t about to let her guard down. A little difficult to maintain said guard given that she was unarmed, pressed face to naked chest with one… sort-of enemy and her back to three more, but well. She’d had worse odds.

“It seems like I’ve got other fish to fry tonight since you’ve once again eeled your way out of trouble, but remember that I’m the reason why you can afford fancy clothes and exotic bed warmers of all persuasions.”

“How could I possibly forget, my esteemed patron?” The smarminess practically oozed from Arkos’ voice, but rather than irritating the demon, he seemed instead to take it as his due.

“See that you don’t. Come along, minions.” Maroz didn’t hear him leave, but she could definitely hear the thugs as they stomped out of the room, dragging the door closed behind them.

She and Arkos waited for what felt like an eternity before he finally sighed in relief.

“Good gracious, that was close. Thought I’d finally used up the last of my luck, but the gods apparently aren’t through with me yet, because they sent me you. You are a wonder!” He grabbed her by the hips and swung her in a circle, laughing delightedly before falling backwards onto his bed and dragging her on top of him and into another kiss.

Maroz, who was over six feet tall, was understandably taken aback at being hoisted up so easily, like she weighed nothing to him. She blushed faintly at the praise, and blushed some more at the position they’d ended up in. They broke apart for breath and she stared down at him. He was so beautiful, his eyes shining in joy, that it was hard to remind herself of the circumstances that had brought them both here.

And though it almost pained her to stop, to watch the joy dim as he read her decision in her face, she couldn’t in good conscience go any further than she already had.

The smile he gave her as she got up from the bed to fetch her sword was so brittle she half expected it to break off of his face, a fragment of a mask, but what was underneath?

Regret?

Perhaps.

Neither of them said a word as she left.

Maroz knew better than to think she could, what, save him? Pffft. Arkos had made his choices long before he met her. It was the height of egotism to think meeting her might somehow cause him to rethink those choices, never mind make different ones.

No. He’d made his bed, and she wasn’t about to share it with him, no matter how pretty he was.

But the key to the gate of the Nine Hells she found in her pocket later made her wonder if she’d made a difference in him after all.

[alj4890]

12 Days of Ficmas

Day 9

(Bryce Lahela x F!MC*Chris Valentine) in a Choices Open Heart one shot.

A/N Bryce’s plans don’t seem to be going like he wanted for Christmas with Chris. 

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Masterlist

Song Inspiration: Christmas Without You by Ava Max

Going Home

December 19th...

Bryce finished stacking his luggage by the door. He looked around at all the Christmas decorations he had talked Chris into buying with a touch of bitter irony.

This was supposed to be their Christmas.

Leave it to his family to find a way to mess up yet another part of his life.

"You forgot to pack this." Chris walked in with a small box wrapped in green paper. The red ribbon on top had been hastily tied into a lopsided bow.

He chuckled while pointing it out. "Sloppy stitch work Dr. Valentine."

"This is why I don't operate." She slipped her arms around his waist. "I leave that up to you."

He pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. "I really don't want to go."

She hugged him tight. "I know."

He set the gift on top of his bags, while keeping her in his arms. "I wish you were able to come with me."

"Me too." She murmured.

He pressed his forehead against hers, for once unable to think of something humorous to say to break the tension.

If his little sister had not called two weeks ago with an outrageous request, he would be able to stay in Boston and enjoy Christmas for once. He could follow through with all the plans he had made with the very reason he had gotten excited again for the holiday.

His Chris.

He knew how lucky he was. The love of his life had survived being poisoned six months ago and he had been given another chance to show her just how much she meant to him.

And Bryce had held nothing back.

All the special dates he made after her recovery had led to a proposal on Thanksgiving Day.

Sienna had nearly choked on a piece of turkey she had popped in her mouth when he dropped down on a knee in front of all their friends.

Chris had said yes, making that a day Bryce knew would always hold a special sort of thankfulness in his heart.

Plans were made for Christmas and New Year's Eve that night. Schedules were studied while the couple began to think of ways to balance everything.

Which was why Keiki's phone call had been unexpected. Like her older brother, she had decided that she needed space from their parents. She had not been in any rush to return home to Hawaii and was happily settled in the bordering school Bryce had found for her.

He and Chris visited her often and she in turn came for the occasional weekend here and there.

Bryce had been floored when she asked him to go with her back to Hawaii for Christmas.

**************

Two weeks ago...

"You want me to do what?!" He asked, ignoring the stares from other doctors sitting in the lounge.

"Mom and Dad have been calling me for a few weeks now." Keiki explained. "They really want us to try and be a family again."

"No." He didn't bother to hide his bitterness. "I have nothing to say to them."

"Please Bryce." She pleaded. "I--after running away...I can't face them on my own."

Bryce ran a hand through his hair, gripping a handful in frustration. "Keiki, I haven't seen them in ten years. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it is going to be for all of us if I'm there?"

"But they want to try." She said again. "Couldn't you try too?"

"I probably can't get time off." Bryce clutched on to that excuse. "I'm still a--"

"I asked Chris to check before I called." Keiki admitted.

"You did what?" He demanded. "Why would you--"

"Because I thought you wouldn't bother checking until the last minute then say you weren't able to take off work." She grumbled.

Bryce blinked in surprise. His little sister knew him too well.

"Anyway," Keiki huffed, "since it is kinda a family emergency, they are giving you a week off. The nineteenth until the twenty-sixth."

Bryce dropped his head back. Seeing no way out of this, he groaned into the phone.

"Please do it for me." Her voice had softened, worried he might not go.

Unable to resist when she dropped her typical teenage attitude, he promised to pick her up on the nineteenth from school.

Keiki whooped and began to say thank you over and over again. "You're the best!"

"Remember that when you buy me a present." He added before telling her he needed to go.

Bryce decided to find his helpful fiancée and thank her for this.

After searching the diagnostic floor with little success, he found Chris in the cafeteria.

She was reading a medical journal while picking at a salad.

She jumped when he swooped in from behind and kissed her cheek. Her delight at seeing him disappeared when he sat down without a word or smile across from her.

"What's wrong?" She asked, reaching for his hand. "Did something happen with Mr. Wallace's bladder cystectomy?"

"No, that went well." He laced his fingers with hers. His eyes dropped down to the princess cut diamond engagement ring he had given her, sparkling under the florescent lights. "Keiki called."

"Oh?" Chris pretended a new interest in her salad. "How is she?"

"Thrilled that someone I know and love happened to do the impossible and got a third year surgical resident off for Christmas."

Her cheeks colored. "I wonder who could do such a miracle?"

"Chris." He sighed her name. "You know I have no desire to see my parents."

"Yeah, but after you talked to your mom about Keiki's bordering school--"

"That was brief compared to spending a week with them." Bryce countered, slouching in his seat. "At least you'll be there as a buffer."

The woman he adored began to squirm in her chair.

"Oh no, no no." He gripped her hand. "Come on, Chris! You're not making me do this alone?"

"I wasn't able to take off. Dr. Ramsey always goes to his Dad's place for Christmas. Since June left, it's just me and Baz working the diagnostic department." Chris pushed her tray to the side. "I'll be working Christmas Eve so that Baz can be with Zaid and their parents. Apparently there is some kind of twin holiday tradition they have involving Santa and his elves."

Bryce softly cursed under his breath. "I'm not spending Christmas away from you. This is our first one as a couple." He reminded her. "I'll tell Keiki she has to face Mom and Dad on her own."

"No!" Chris reached for his other hand. "I love that you want to spend it with me as much as I do with you, but your sister needs you right now." She then shrugged as if it was no big deal. "I'll be working and sleeping the holiday away."

She swallowed against that lie, knowing all her own holiday plans she had dreamed of with him were destroyed. Having Christmas Day off would be incredibly lonely. Their friends were either working a different shift or finding a way home to see their loved ones. Her own parents were leaving for their yearly trip to Switzerland in a few days.

She would be completely alone this holiday season.

"I really don't want to do this without you." Bryce tugged her out of her chair and into his lap.

Ignoring her frantic whispers that there were people around, he cupped her cheek and kissed her.

"I don't want you to either." She whispered, giving in to the need to kiss him once more. "I'll be just a phone call away."

"Not good enough." He grumbled before giving her a half-hearted smile. "But it seems I have no choice since the two bossy women in my life are guilt tripping me." He squeezed her close before letting her get up. "I'll see you this evening after your rounds."

Chris smiled warmly at him. "Can't wait."

***************

December 19th...

"Cheer up!" Chris shook him a little. "You'll be in Hawaii. Warm, sandy beaches--"

"That would be more inviting if you were there." His lips curved into a suggestive smile. "I'm picturing all kinds of bikinis--" he jumped when she swatted his backside.

She cleared her throat to continue. "As I was saying. You'll get to surf. See old friends--"

"Enemies. Exes. People who hope every Lahela dies some horrific death." He muttered.

"Why would you be seeing exes?!" Chris jerked back, eyes narrowing on his face. "Is there something I should know about, Lahela?"

He snorted in his laughter. "Nothing at all. I was only trying to think of the worst things I could see on this trip."

"Better be the worst." She grumbled, allowing him to once again pull her close. "Or else you will encounter a fiancée colder than the winters here in Boston."

He shook with laughter as he kissed her again. "I love you so much, Chris."

She gently caressed his cheek, giving that somewhat special, secretive smile she had just for him. "I love you too."

He checked the time and reluctantly let her go. "I better get going before Keiki calls again." He gathered up his bags, insisting Chris remain inside where it was warm. "I won't be able to leave if I see you standing out there alone."

She bit back her tears. "Be careful and call me when you get a chance."

"I will." He slung the last piece of luggage over his shoulder. "I want you to actually rest and sleep on your days off. None of that study fest you try and sneak in."

"I promise." She reached over and pulled his coat closed for him.

Bryce ducked down and stole one last tender kiss before slipping out the door. He flashed that same charming smile that still made her feel butterflies. "Later, Valentine."

Chris knew she couldn't say goodbye back without choking up. She merely waved with a smile, eyes blurring with the tears that were threatening to spill over.

She closed the door, pressed her head against it, and finally allowed herself to cry.

*****************

Later that night...

"I'm here." Bryce stepped out on the balcony of his old bedroom. "We just finished dinner."

"How did it go?" Chris asked, readjusting her phone as she finished doing the dishes.

"Great. Just great." He replied. "We said hello. Awkward pauses. Questions about school. Awkward pauses. The hospital. Even longer pauses with avoiding eye contact. Then Kiki decided to break the tension by telling them about our engagement. Blah, blah, blah. They want to meet you. Hope I actually invite them to the wedding--"

"Of course we will invite them!" Chris dropped the pan she was scrubbing. "You told them that, right?"

Bryce hesitated. "No. I indicated that we were still up in the air on the guest list."

"BRYCE!" Chris shouted. "Get in there and tell them that I want them at our wedding! They're your parents!"

"See, this is why I needed you to come." He snapped. "I don't want to be here. I don't want to talk to them. I have nothing in common with these people!"

"They're YOUR parents!" She snapped back. "Get over this crap and try and develop some type of relationship with them. Do it for yourself, Kiki, me, and any children we might one day have!"

A couple of beats of silence went by.

"Children, huh?" Bryce teased.

"Well, yeah." Chris mumbled. "One of you in the world is clearly not enough for me."

He couldn't stop the goofy smile forming at that. "I know the world needs more of you, Valentine."

Bryce loved hearing her stutter at his compliment.

"Anyway," she said in a softer tone, "Try and find a way to be around your family."

"I guess I do owe it to all the little Lahela's we will have." He leaned against the railing. "We're having six, right?"

"Six? Why not eight?." Chris joked, calling his bluff.

"How about two?" He countered as he quickly did the math for putting eight people through college.

"It's a deal." She checked the time and sighed. "I need to head to the hospital."

"Okay." He told her again that he loved her before ending the call. Taking one last glance at the ocean, he walked inside to speak to his parents.

**************

A couple of days went by with everyone in the Lahela household walking on egg shells. Each person seemed to keep the conversation impersonal. Generalizations were made on the weather, possible activities were suggested, and uncomfortable silences were falling at alarming rates.

The only time Bryce felt a little like his normal self was when he was either talking to Chris or alone with Keiki.

One morning, it all came to an end.

After taking his little sister out for a sunrise surf, Keiki had suggested they surprise their parents with breakfast.

"We can make it ourselves!"

"I hope you mean bowls of cereal." He teased. "Because even those are pretty much a hit and miss for me."

Keiki rolled her eyes. "You're a surgeon! Surely between the two of us we can come up with something."

"I'm not cooking while in the operating room." He added. "Edenbrook frowns on that."

She elbowed him in the ribs.

"And I'm out." He snickered at annoying her. "I can't handle a skillet with bruised ribs." He dodged her next attack. "Much less crack an egg."

Keiki chased him into the Lahela mansion, threatening to crack an egg over his big head. Their laughter caused their parents to look up from their morning coffee.

"Good morning." Their mother called out.

The two stopped in their tracks.

"Morning." Keiki greeted.

She and Bryce stood in the foyer, making sure they weren't tracking sand in.

"Did you have a good time?" Their father asked.

"Yeah." Bryce rubbed the back of his neck. "Smooth waves all morning."

His mother chuckled fondly. "There were so many mornings when you were little that I couldn't find you. Your father kept me from freaking out by showing me your favorite surfing spot."

"I suggested getting a houseboat to live in so we could see you more often." Their father teased. "But your mom had this weird fixation that home meant one on land."

Keiki glanced back and forth between her parents and brother. This was the first time anyone mentioned something from the past.

Bryce hated that he felt that familiar tug to his heart when it came to childhood memories. He had a good life for the most part. His parents might have committed crimes, but they had treated him well in their own way.

They had always been busy, flittering to one event or planning one to show off the Lahela fortune. But in between those moments, they had tried to be parents. They weren't perfect, especially when compared to stories his friends shared about holidays with family and such.

But maybe, maybe they weren't that horrible.

"Keiki and I were going to try our hand at making breakfast for all of us." He found himself saying. "We'll try not to burn the house down."

Tears came to his mother's eyes. With a choked laugh, she nodded. "That--that is very thoughtful of you."

"Thank you." His father's voice was raspy with emotion. "We promise to eat whatever you serve." He tried to joke. "Good thing we have a son who's a doctor."

Keiki pulled on Bryce's arm. "Let's do this."

Feeling a little guilty that an offer to cook had affected his parents to such an extent, Bryce decided to give it his all and make this a breakfast none of them would forget.

***************

Edenbrook, Dec. 23...

"And don't forget to test--"

"Ethan, shouldn't you be on the road by now?" Chris interrupted. "The weather is only going to get worse."

"Is this your way of trying to keep me from repeating the lab work I want done?" He countered.

She held up a readout. "Did it last night."

An expression of approval appeared on his face. "Well done, Rookie."

"A compliment? It really is Christmas." She teased.

He snorted while gathering his things. "Enjoy. It only happens once a year."

"Tell your dad, I said Merry Christmas." She yelled out as he left.

He waved in acknowledgement without looking back.

Chris dropped her head on the table, softly groaning in misery.

"And then there was one." She sat up and focused once more on her research of skin irritations, frowning at this being her holiday treat.

***************

Lahela Mansion...

"Our Bryce is not only one of the top surgeons, he is also engaged to a brilliant doctor."

Bryce forced a smile as his mother continued to pull him from one group to another. Lucky for him, he was only meant to stand there and appear delighted with life.

He wasn't really in the mood to socialize.

He glanced across the room and saw that his dad was doing the same with Keiki. The siblings shared a mutual glance of resignation.

After that one breakfast, their parents were ready to show the world that the Lahela's were still a prominent family that deserved awe and respect.

He hated being paraded like this. The only reason he still smiled was he felt a little guilty still over keeping them out of his life for so long. It surprised him that their parents had practically become recluses when Keiki also left. Having both their children move across the country to try and escape the Lahela name had been the wakeup call they needed.

Things still weren't what they once were, yet there was no denying the effort his parents were putting forth in the hopes of finding a new normal.

The only thing was, Bryce wanted to go home.

And home meant anywhere Chris was.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and excused himself.

Opening up the image Chris had sent made his brow furrow in confusion. It was some type of weird skin rash.

He then burst into laughter when he read the words she had typed under it.

This could be the eggnog talking, but does this guy's rash look like a fat reindeer to you?

He set his drink down and began to text back.

This is why I love you.

He smiled in anticipation as he waited for her response.

Who knew skin rashes had this kind of effect on you?

And? He sent back.

And I love you too.

Keiki sneaked over and peeked at his phone.

"Is that a reindeer?" She tilted her head to the side.

"Maybe." He put his phone back in his pocket.

He leaned against the doorframe, quietly observing the party.

"You don't have to stay." Keiki whispered.

"I know." He ran a hand through his hair. "But it won't kill me to hang out another hour at this party."

"I mean, you don't have to stay here for Christmas." She corrected.

"I thought you wanted me to."

"I did. Or do. But now that things have been talked about, I don't mind being alone here with Mom and Dad." Keiki explained. "I know you must miss Chris."

"I do." His mind began to whirl with possibly leaving. "You don't think it would upset our parents if I up and left?"

"Not if you tell them why."

He slung his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You know, for little sisters, you aren't that bad?"

She rolled her eyes while fighting a grin. "I guess you aren't the worst either."

He squeezed her close, grinning when she hugged him back. "I'll talk to them after the party."

"This means I get to open my gift from you early, right?" Keiki asked.

"Gift? From me?" He placed his hand to his head. "Was I supppsed to get you something?"

Bryce grunted when she punched his bicep.

"I take everything nice back I ever said about you." She sniped back.

"Easy there, Ms. MMA. Some of us need our arms for work." He nodded toward the tree. "Your gift is wrapped in the candy cane paper."

She stood on her tiptoes to see over the crowd. "Is it anything from my list?"

"Of course it is. Do you honestly think I have any clue what a fifteen year old girl likes?" He reminded her. "Plus Chris made sure we got exactly what you wanted."

Keiki hugged him again. "I'm so glad you came with me."

He gently patted her back. "Me too, kid."

****************

Dec. 23rd, a few hours later, Honolulu International Airport...

"I understand that what I'm asking is the impossible." Bryce took a deep breath. "If you can get me as close to the east coast, I'll pay extra and drive the rest of the way if needed."

"Sir, we are having to cancel a number of flights due to weather." The ticket agent explained. "Your flight is for the twenty-sixth."

"I know. But I need to be home tomorrow." He repeated. "I'll fly anywhere. It doesn't have to be a direct flight to Boston."

The agent began to type while the line of people behind Bryce grumbled at the hold up.

"The closest I can get you is a five hour layover in Dallas." She typed some more. "You can then be on standby for a flight to Grand Rapids or I can book you in our economy class to Chicago which has a two hour layover in San Diego and another two hour layover in Houston."

"Chicago." He decided.

She printed out his new ticket. "Departs from Gate B-9 in one hour."

"Thank you." He hurried over to security.

***************

Dec. 24th, around four a.m. Chicago...

"I need something with four wheel drive." Bryce added.

"Yeah, you and everyone else." The car rental rep snickered. "It's Christmas Eve in the Midwest. You'll be lucky to leave here with a car that isn't a convertible with the top down."

Bryce ran his hand through his hair. "Just give me whatever you got."

"Huh." The rep's eyes widened. "Must be your lucky day. We have one SUV left."

Bryce felt the first glimmer of hope since his last three turbulent flights. "I'll take it."

*************

Dec. 24th, Boston...

It is going to be a white Christmas for Boston. Snow has been falling and will continue with a possible accumulation of eighteen inches. Some areas of the country are expecting up to twenty-

Chris changed the channel while getting ready for a long night at work. Her mood had been less than cheerful the more she thought about being alone tomorrow.

That and she had not heard from Bryce at all.

He's probably at another party, she thought. Maybe his family planned something special.

"Get your head right, Valentine." She told her reflection. "Nobody wants a depressed doctor missing her fiancé."

She searched her closet for something more festive to wear, hoping it would brighten her mood and her patients'. After choosing a red knit dress, she snagged a gingerbread cookie and headed out into the snow.

****************

Somewhere in the snow...

"A cup of coffee, please." Bryce checked the time again and softly groaned.

He had been driving since around five in the morning. With all the snow, the fifteen hour drive seemed to be growing longer and longer. He still had another five hours at the very least until he made it to Boston.

His phone chimed with a message from Chris.

Merry Christmas Eve! I miss you and hope you're having a good time.

He took a sip of the coffee and debated on whether or not to tell her what he was really doing. Typing out that he missed her too, he decided to remain quiet on how he was spending the night before Christmas.

**************

Dec. 25th, 8:00 a.m., Boston...

Chris trudged through the snow, playfully kicking up some of it. The night shift had thankfully been quiet for the most part. She had been able to go to the children's ward and play some Christmas themed games with them and their families.

Seeing their excited faces went a long way in helping lift her spirits.

Some of the staff had brought in some holiday treats and even Dr. Banerji brought in some homemade wassail in a crockpot to help stay warm in the snow.

Chris found a Secret Santa gift on her desk when her shift ended. Smiling, she opened it up to find a green cashmere scarf. Wrapping the soft material around her neck, she pulled on her snow boots and left in a much better mood than she had arrived in.

Humming Christmas carols, she continued to her apartment. She decided that this Christmas on her own would be spent in pajamas and dozing on the couch with A Christmas Story on continuous loop.

She was on the third verse to We Wish You a Merry Christmas when she unlocked the door.

"We won't go until we get some," she sang as she tossed her keys on a side table. "We won't--"

"Well, if you insist." Bryce said suggestively.

She stopped in her tracks. Her jaw dropped as she stared at him.

"Should we exchange presents before we get some or after?" He laughed when she launched herself into his arms, squeezing him tight.

"What are you--how--" she sighed into his kiss, snuggling closer.

"I wanted to spend Christmas at home." He told her.

"But you were home." She reminded him. "With your family."

"That's not home anymore." Bryce backed her to the sofa.

"So you're saying Boston has become your new home?" She laughed when they fell onto the cushions.

He gazed down at her, thinking of all the emotions she made him feel. His voice turned sincere as he smoothed her hair out of her eyes.

"Funny thing is, it isn't the place so much as the reason why this is now home." He pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek before brushing his lips against hers as he spoke. "Wherever we are, as long as you're there, then that is where I will call home."

[devotionthatcorrupts]

ok so you sent me an ask about my tags, but i've always loved yours!!! i like it when people have tags that are poetic or songs or references or inside jokes. how did you choose the ones you use? they all seem related but if there's a story, i'd love to hear it!

I'm so happy to hear that I put so much effort into having a coherent tagging system on here it makes me delighted when people like them. They actually are all unrelated source wise but they are all themed around what I think the character/relationships central thesis is. these are going to be long so I'm going to put it under a read more.

knighthood as religion is dean's tag because I believe his core narrative is centered around being both raised and personally devoted to the idea of being a protector and shield for people but in particular sam in a way that goes beyond duty and exists as a devout calling. without that he lacks purpose and ambition (even though he doesn't but the fact that he actively chooses not to pursue anything outside of this adds to the religious sacrifice inmho) protecting sam, and through assocation, sam himself are his deities creating a very specific moral code that he operates under that only he understands and holds himself too. it's both a critique of his character and what I see as a personal tragedy as john raised him this way and he never really had a choice or an option to exist any other way - the fact that he embraces it is almost a non-existent point because he was created to be duty bound and dies duty bound in a way that he revels and finds peace in because he's always known that was his fate.

the devil that was is sam's tag because his identity is created on being lucifer's vessel despite the fact that his personality and nobility is the antithesis of it. his early narratives are wrapped around him struggling to work against this nature and briefly, embracing it as a means to an end but then ultimately rejecting his function and form and becoming himself again even if it is at a high cost that he never full recovers from. sam is actively choosing to not be what he was created for and so "the devil that was" is this idea that he both was, is, and isn't demonic and in way, that's the only act of agency he's allowed to consistently keep throughout the series. he doesn't own his life, body, purpose, direction, or connections but he did prevent himself from being the vessel of lucifier and I think that's central to the way that I understand and appreciate his character.

two people shorten a road comes from the irish term bóthar with that being it's literal translation as a means of saying "company makes the journey pass more quickly" and that companionship makes life better. I don't use that tag for them anymore because what I like about their relationship has changed but I still think it's a good tag. my brother tag at the moment is just the winchester brothers as placeholder until I find something new. the road leads nowhere is somewhat connected to two people shorten a road and it's my thesis of the show tag about how the entire story is about the fact that they are falling a pre-destined plan (both within and outside of the meta) that their journey is ultimately meaningless and that they revel and seek out that meaninglessness because the road itself is the only home they've known and they have never sought out, or settled at a destination. it's both a jab at the show's insane, convoluted narrative and a mythical commentary on their purpose.

I wait for you at roadside mass is my sastiel tag which I don't use as much anymore because my interest in the ship has waned as I've focused almost exclusively on s1-5 but it's the idea that sam is religiously devout and cas is both a representation of the divine, proof of the divine, and also a vessel for divine love. sam is always traveling and since he grew up in a family that wasn't interested in religion he has no concept of a stationary church or house of worship and so cas in many ways embodies that for him. cas is his holy house and he waits for him by the roadside for him to hear his prayer and create space and connection to the divine.

childhood is a kingdom where nobody dies is my pre-series tag and a edna st. vincent poem (my url is also from an edna st. vincent poem she is a very important poet to me) about the transition from childhood to adulthood and ultimately, the departure for it in a way that feels very appropriate for the winchesters. it's also a play on irony, as their childhood was filled with death and also a bi-product of the death of their mother but also they did not die, and their father did not die and in a way they learned to accept that as long as that didn't happen death lacked permanence.

love is where the knife goes in is my samruby tag and it's just about their jesus/judas relationship just the foundation of what it's like to love your own betrayer, knowing that they plan on wounding you and wincing when it goes in anyway even if you are waiting to hurt them in term and how if you experience that enough you start associating love with wounding, that even the wound itself become a deceleration of affection in its own way.

the motherless oven is my winchester family tag and it's from the title of a graphic novel from the same name that has no relation to supernatural but the phrase has always stuck with me and i feel like it embodies the family well. they are a hot-tempered, relentless family that are all trapped within each other and because of each other and all mourn and represent the absence of mary in their lives. they are both their own tomb and also entombed within their romanticization and martyrdom of mary.

and those are all of my active tags! I still want tags for ruby, john, both of the boys in relation to their father because each of them have a fascinating relationship with him, cas, and maybe the winchesters + cas because that is an engaging dynamic as well. I do not like deancas and don't blog about it but I probably would come up with a fun tag for it if creativity struck me.

thank you again for asking!!! this was so much fun to type out. I've been wanting to write out something like this for awhile because I have put a lot of thought into each tag.

[dontcallmecarrie]

screw it, this “too many options that all sound appealing” thing is really messing with my rhythm so here, outlines for Endings 1-3. Major spoilers inbound, read at your own risk.

Ending 1: Stay With The Original Plan

canon ensues on Loki’s side, aka he falls right into Thanos’ clutches. [Un]fortunately for him, Thanos is even more pissy than in canon, since ‘his love’ is MIA and he’s hyperfocused on assembling the Infinity Gauntlet under the belief that this’ll be what finally gets her to say yes

somewhere in here, Loki realizes that this is the purple bastard Hela kept telling him about. Just to make this entire experience even more hellish, because having to listen to Thanos talk is more torture than the torture. 

optional, probably won't write: at some point, Thanos asks Loki for dating advice. Which’d go about as well as expected.

Meanwhile, Asgard, Earth, and just about everywhere in between has their hands full now that Helheim is empty and all of its demons are having a field day.

somewhere during the chaos, Fenrir breaks his binds and steals the Aether on the way out. 

cue potential alternate antagonist to make the Avengers assemble. Surtur, perhaps, for maximum irony because...

Jörmungandr wakes up just in time to see Hela bust out of Helheim, and immediately invites her to come with him. Fenrir joins the club when he gets out, too, and cue minor time skip as they all catch up and help each other reacclimatize to living outside of a glorified prison/the modern world. 

okay, from here, there’s two further endings I’d be having to pick between.

Option A:

shit goes down when Loki shows up.

The Avengers assemble, and get not one, not two, but five Asgardians crashing the party on the Helicarrier.

turns out one of them’s an ancient sorcerer who’s been camping out on Earth over the past thousand years and influencing some of their myths. Somehow, this isn’t the weirdest part.

a lot of dirty laundry gets aired in a very short period of time, aka the Avengers get a front-row seat to the shitshow that is the Asgardian royal family and Thor’s respect for his father tanks. 

The local sorcerer is the one who figures out Loki’s being mind-controlled, and Hela is royally pissed off when she finds out who’s responsible. 

well, actually, that’s not entirely accurate: when they find out Loki’s condition, nobody takes it well, and since some of the people in the room were basically used as living weapons for the better part of a millennia, well...

RIP, Thanos. 

[insert family reunion and happy ending here, probably]

Option B: 

[insert antagonist name here] shows up, Avengers assemble.

Cue confusion when an alien trio beats them to the punch, feat. a fuck-off huge wolf, a goth chick who keeps throwing swords [seriously, where is she even getting them from?], and a honest-to-goodness wizard. 

Cue even more confusion when Thor recognizes them as Loki’s friends, and then a lot of stuff goes down very fast when he finds out that they’re famous on Earth— because they’re prophesied to bring about Ragnarok, the fall of Asgard. 

[insert drama here]

Fenrir, Hela, and Jörmungandr quasi-joining the Avengers? Not as impossible as it sounds. 

Thanos shows up looking for the Infinity Stones. Hela oneshots him, and maybe brings him back to life just to kill him again when they find out what he did to Loki.

cue happy ending.

Ending 2: All The Angst And Dramatic Irony [feat. Major Character Death]

this one’d make it all a tragedy, and I hate making myself sad and also I didn’t tag for major character death, so that’s already two strikes against it but my brain can’t let it go so here goes:

Loki died when he fell from the Bifrost. 

Hela and Jörmungandr don’t know this, and don’t have much to compare notes because Jör last saw him when he fled and Hela’s last conversation was right before Thor’s coronation. However, they are aware that Loki succeeded in his mission of getting Hela free, and they know how happy Odin would’ve been when it happened— they’re operating under the assumption that he’s been imprisoned for treason, and gearing up to invade Asgard for the sole purpose of getting him out. 

The events of the first Avengers movie doesn’t happen/gets skipped.

Fenrir breaks out during the Convergence, scaring the crap out of Jane Foster and taking the Aether with him. 

The group has a reunion, and then all eyes turn to Asgard. 

Chaos ensues when the Dark Elves’ invasion is interrupted by a separate, entirely unrelated attack that somehow manages to do even more damage.

and incidentally end up fulfilling the prophecy along the way, because they have a bone to pick with Odin and everyone who helped him

Cue angst and sadness when the truth about Loki comes out. Because Thor enters the fight, and Fenrir/Hela/Jörmungandr would inevitably ask “where’s your brother?” and then out comes the story of what happened on the Bifrost

...and because I made myself sad, here, have an alternate ending:

Hela and the others categorically refuse to accept he died, and keep looking. 

Jörmungandr in particular points out that the Bifrost can result in wonky time-space shenanigans if not monitored closely, and considering the circumstances in which he fell, well...

Fenrir goes to town on Sakaar when they find Loki.

cue tearful reunion and happy ending.

Ending 3: CHAOS [the fun one that I’m honestly leaning towards]

aka taking all of MCU canon that I remember, and sticking it in a blender because timeline fuckery abounds and absolute no one knows wtf is going on anymore. 

Taking full advantage of the “Bifrost can result in accidental time travel” thing, and the fact that Thanos is distracted looking for Hela and the Infinity Stones which in turn affects when the events of the first Avengers movie happens, well...

after Loki falls, cue minor timeskip because of Reasons. Hela and Jörmungandr get the chance to start recovering from the whole “living on the run/being forced into this position” thing, and also start looking

then a lot of stuff goes down very very fast.

Loki shows up in Germany, catching the attention of not only the Avengers, but Hela and Jörmungandr. 

...the alien god talking about subjugation should’ve been the guy getting all the headlines, had it not been for the gigantic glowing wolf that showed up halfway through his speech. Or the aliens that followed him from gods-knew-where.

aka Fenrir breaks out during the Convergence, and the Dark Elves really, really, really want the Aether.

aka yes, this is the one where the events first Avengers movie and Thor: The Dark World happen concurrently.

SHIELD has their hands full, Erik Selvig and Jane Foster are working overtime to figure out wtf is going on, and Thor is less than helpful because all of other aliens can and will attack him on sight. 

Thor tries to drag Loki into custody.

Loki gets kidnapped on the way. By a wizard, because why the fuck not, things were already weird enough as is. 

Tracking down said wizard is an exercise in futility, but damn if they don’t try anyway. 

Having Clint Barton and his associates get portalled in with an honest-to-goodness apology note? Sure, just add it onto the pile. 

Everyone in SHIELD is confused, anyone who knows their myths has just been screaming this entire time because there’s also been sightings of an enormous snake in the oceans [Jörmungandr’s defense system was working overtime, sue him], and things just keep escalating.

Eventually there’s a team-up, and then a human wizard shows up too? Saying something about how their duty was to safeguard the Earth from extradimensional threats and obviously SHIELD was doing a shit job of it? Fine. Just...fine.

hi, Stephen Strange

aka the Avengers assemble and there’s more of them because all hands on deck

[insert snappy dialogue and interactions here]

Hela when she finds out what Thanos is up to: (ง'̀-'́)ง

[insert cinematic fight scene with all the drama and irony and Norse mythology references]

cue happy ending

[dreams-of-kalopsia]

Before the Flowers Bloom Again

Summary: It was the greatest irony of her life, the most elaborate prank in all the universe and its alternate realities combined. Pidge was the one who had suffered from years of unrequited love, and yet it was Lance who had flowers blooming in his lungs. In a universe where Hunk never pushed Lance to ask Allura out and where Honerva atoned for her sins by saving all realities with Voltron instead of Allura, there existed a rare disease that blossomed more beautifully the closer it grew towards death.

A @plancesecretsanta 2020 fic for @sakarrie. Merry Christmas! Here’s your Pidge-centric angsty fic ^u^

Read it on AO3.

----

It was always the most mundane days that end up becoming the worst ones. They turn bad in an instant and without warning, like an electrical switch for disaster: one flick of circumstance, and suddenly all the lightbulbs in your brain are flashing red in alarm.

Pidge’s switch came in the form of a phone call.

“Katie. Med bay, now. Lance collapsed.”

Six words in three sentences, delivered by her mother in two seconds. Her brows furrowed and her heart pounded like it was freefalling from the sky without a jetpack or parachute. She started running in no time.

When they parted for their respective offices just a few hours ago, Lance had cheerfully promised her to bring home pizza for dinner. When she arrived at the med bay, he was already in an Altean cryopod, Coran and Allura urgently working around it while deep in discussion with Mom and the Galaxy Garrison’s in-house doctor.

Confusion blended with Pidge’s worry. Allura and Coran in the Garrison was a natural sight—but that was before they became the Queen and Royal Advisor of Altea three years ago. Why did the two most important people of their planet have to personally deliver and set up a cryopod when even humans could operate it?

“What’s happening?” she asked to announce her presence.

Everyone visibly stiffened. Four pairs of eyes darted in her direction, troubled expressions barely smoothened out of their faces. Her already furrowed brows creased further.

“Oh, Katie...” Mom approached with hurried steps and pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry. He visited my lab to ask about a flower. I didn’t know he was sick or that the flower came from his lungs until he started coughing and collap—”

“Wait, wait,” Pidge interjected. She was used to processing a barrage of data in a matter of seconds, but this particular information just… bounced right off of her brain.

Flowers?

Coming from the lungs?

And Lance, her husband whom she sees every day, sick?

She felt so lost and disoriented. “Can someone explain from the beginning?” She looked expectantly over her mother’s shoulders at the other three, but they merely exchanged uneasy glances.

Doctor Calvo cleared his throat. “We were actually hoping you would be the one to tell us when the symptoms started,” he said. “Commander McClain must have been sick for long enough that flowers obscure his lungs on imaging tests.”

Expectant gazes returned to her fourfold, and shame crept up her face. Because she couldn’t tell them anything about her own husband’s condition. As much of a genius as Pidge was, she couldn’t retain information she never knew existed. And as far as she knew, aside from his occasional sick jokes, Lance himself hadn’t been sick ever.

“I uh… I didn’t… know he was sick, either.” She lowered her eyes towards the cryopod. Lance’s face could hardly be seen through the Altean blue viewing window and the short distance that separated the two of them. He was the only person who could shed light on this whole situation, but he lay unconscious in a frozen state as if to keep everyone else in the dark.

Why and how did he manage to keep her of all people from noticing anything? For some reason, apprehension seized her at the thought of finding out. So she focused instead on getting answers for the ‘what’. The technical aspects were at least easier to digest.

Pidge pulled away from her mother and turned to her Altean space family. If anyone would have a clue on what kind of disease had afflicted Lance, it would definitely be Coran. Besides, they wouldn’t be here if neither he nor Allura knew.

They wouldn’t be regarding her with sad eyes if the disease could easily be treated with a short stay in the trusty Altean cryopod.

“Tell me,” she said quietly, preparing herself for the bomb that was sure to drop.

It took some time for Coran to give an explanation. “The Meskans, the first species to be infected, call it the Kada Disease.” His usually jovial voice mellowed with an apologetic tone. She chose to ignore it in favor of obtaining more information. It wasn’t his fault, anyway.

“The Meskans? From Meskar, the—”

“—host planet for the Fourth General Assembly of the Universal Union we all attended, yes.”

But that was more than half a year ago.

Pidge’s eyes widened. Seeing her reaction, Coran and Allura nodded gravely. Mom squeezed her hand in concern.

“I’m afraid my knowledge of this rare disease is limited to what I’ve seen of a colleague way back in the day.”

“…What happened to that colleague?” she forced herself to ask.

Allura released a heavy breath. “Gravia, Father’s ambassador to Meskar at the time, had fallen in love with a Meskan during her stay in the planet. Unfortunately, the feeling was not mutual, and she returned to Altea with a broken heart. She developed the disease soon after that…” she trailed off then sent over a meaningful look, like she expected Pidge to understand everything from that sad story.

Pidge couldn’t, though.

It was possible that the disease just happened to manifest after the Altean went home. It probably had a long incubation time, or other extrinsic and intrinsic factors had influenced its development. Temporality didn’t always equate to causality. “You couldn’t possibly think that Gravia actually died of a failed romance, right?” she asked in disbelief.

The silence and increasingly pained expressions were answer enough, but the answer wasn’t one she wanted.

Her fingertips turned cold and clammy as her mind rebelled against her instinct urging her to accept the validity of what she’d just heard.

“Perhaps its more popular name would help convince you,” Coran finally said. “Florescent Cough, the disease of unrequited love.”

The cold spread from her hands and chilled her blood. Her gaze dropped to the cryopod that encased Lance.

No way.

This had got to be the greatest irony of her life, the most elaborate prank in all the universe and its alternate realities combined.

She was the one who had suffered from years of unrequited love, and yet it was her husband who had flowers blooming in his lungs.

“No way.”