#like obviously i know even in the first life there has always been an undercurrent of discomfort beneath their sweet moments

[seventh-fantasy]

落得满头雪，也算是白首了。

lu anran & mu ze [3/?] | 覆流年 lost track of time

[celluloidbroomcloset]

Saw your comment about liking Taika more the more people go after him and man do I ever agree! I enjoyed his work before OFMD and he's part of why I decided to watch in the first place, but I wouldn't have called myself a fan. But now, after all of this utter bull being hurled at him, I definitely am liking him a hell of a lot more. Guy puts up with way too much just because people can't stand him being successful for some reason.

Only other celeb I've been a fan of who puts up with just as much if not more than him is Misha Collins. The only difference is there's no racism and antisemitism behind his harassment. He's had people trying to get him fired, trying to get his shows canceled, trying to get his book pulled from publishing, spreading potentially life and career destroying slander, stalking, threatening his (now ex) wife and kids, open death threats, sexual harassment online, filmed threats of violent attacks at conventions, and more. He's even gotten zionist pinned to him even as he pushes for a cease fire and peace because he didn't talk about it the right way for some people. All because he dared to take a job on a tv show 16 years ago.

He and Taika should get together and compare notes sometime.

Yes. A lot of what I've seen directed at Taika is simply not fair to the things that he's actually said or done, and I'm not gonna qualify that with "well, I don't always agree with him" because, although I don't, I'm tired of saying it. I dig the guy's art. He makes good art. The attacks on him are extreme and obviously based in racism and antisemitism. The other people who get this kind of scrutiny are often PoC, women, members of the LGBTQ+ community, etc. Very rarely (though sometimes) are they cis-het white dudes. I have a fuck lot less artistic respect for Ari Aster or Christopher Nolan or James fucking Cameron than I do for Taika Waititi.

I really do think that the undercurrent of some comments is basically that he "doesn't know his place." He's got to be "taken down a peg" or "humbled." And when that sort of sentiment gets applied to a PoC, it has fuck-all to do with the person that they actually are.

[failedaethercore]

Another chapter

So...I wrote that last mini fic I posted, but had this brewing for a couple weeks in the back of my mind, so...I just wrote it.

Obviously (if you read the last one) this is only my third fic ever. So I apologize for any inconsistencies or poor writing. I'm trying to improve.

Enjoy, and please feel free to let me know if you have any requests, I am willing to try!

Pairing: Rafayel x MC (reader, usage of "y/n")

Content: Some drama, mostly fluffy at the end.

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

Rafayel twirled his paintbrush idly in his fingers, he was distracted, lost in deep thought as he remembered your last visit.

He had always put up a strong, flirtatious front. He always winked and smirked, and said something to put you on edge, especially when he could pull a clever innuendo out and make you blush first.

But more often than not, your straightforward and candid remarks, gentle and innocent touches, would drive him wild, causing his ears to turn a deep shade of pink. His blood would boil in his veins, unable to control himself whenever your naiveity showed, while you drove him closer to the boundary between respecting your boundaries, and tipping over the edge into taking what he wanted.

You had forgotten. Again. And that in and of itself was enough to drag his heart into depths of sorrow reserved only for those who lost their soulmates to the deep undercurrents. So when you fell back into his life…heh…more like, he tempted you as subtley as he could. The coral he had ground into paint was no mere coincidence. He knew what he was doing, and had hoped that somehow, in some way, you would be pulled in.

He had heard of your new position as a Hunter, so he had hoped you would be a part of the investigation. When Thomas let him know via text a Hunter had come to investigate his paintings, specifically the one that Raymond had bought before his death, he wanted to sing. But when he discovered it was you yourself, he was ready to dance as if there was a bonfire in the center of his studio. He was selfish to drag you back into his life, but he was done being the silent observer. His heart had grown too impatient, too ravenous.

Too weak.

But he gave in to the temptation, finally. His heart had won, and he was slowly playing this game with you, trying to tempt you to choose him, one more time.

Except…

Every small glance, every tiny smile, your angry face when you argued with him, the way the light reflected in your eyes when you laughed. They made his heart beat faster, his temperature rise, and his eyes darken. It would make sense to him, except you were so innocent now. Your memories would flash in your dreams, but never linger long enough to make him feel comfortable to reveal the truth. When you would mention those dreams…or sometimes, nightmares, his heart ached and growled against his ribcage, begging him to tell you. But you would remain in the dark until the day you remembered on your own.

He couldn't thrust the past sins of both your lives onto you, when you were innocent now. He would wait to let those memories resurface on their own, and let himself enjoy the time he has with you now, before the burdens of history rip you from his arms again.

He got to see you often right now, and you had come to rely on him, even if only a little. His heart sung when you would call him out of the blue, or send him a poke for no reason. You wanted to see him, to hear him, you wanted him to think of you, too. But he never needed a reminder to think of you. His heart would never let him forget you, even when he had wanted to. You were his soul, his devoted follower. His heart of itself.

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

But now he was consumed by the thoughts of you, as it had been so long since he last heard from you…your recent silence was driving him slowly mad.

He dropped the paintbrush when the phone rang, his thoughts had dragged him far away into the depths of the ocean to reminisce. At first, his irritation overwhelmed him, but then he held a glimmer of hope. Could it be…?

It was Thomas. He left a voicemail mentioning an upcoming interview for a magazine. He had been really putting the pressure on him lately to be better at his media presence. But he sighed angrily, and threw his phone across the studio. It fell with a thud under the sofa, as he reclined against his elbow, sitting halfway up his ladder and staring at the unfinished painting before him.

The blurred smears of color weren't right yet, and he was already annoyed because of that. But you hadn't called him in two weeks. He knew you were on a mission, but the fact that you hadn't so much as checked in once yet, he was ready to snap. You usually at least sent him a text or something by now, just letting him know you were alive.

He refused to text you first, he wasn't the needy type. He meant it. He wouldn't cave. He wouldn't give in. You were the one being childish. Not him. He would hold out until you came to him first.

But when Thomas called again, and wouldn't leave a voicemail, but kept ringing back again and again until Rafayel picked up… He finally picked the phone up from under the sofa, and sighed as he answered. So when Thomas was saying that his bodyguard had ended up at Akso Hospital in critical condition, he didn't hesitate to drop everything and run. He didn't even bother to remember his phone, let alone change out of his wrinkled and paint-splattered clothes. He drove like a madman, the wheels of his sports car squealing whenever he took a turn too hot, and he didn't even apply the brakes if he could avoid it. Running lights whenever he could, if it weren't for the fact that the roads were quiet, he would have been pulled over and arrested for endangering the public.

He pulled into the emergency vehicle loading zone, parking and dashing in, ignoring the shouts of the understandably frustrated paramedics and drivers who now had to deal with his haphazard parking job. He sprinted to the reception desk, immediately asking for you by name.

"And what is your relationship to y/n l/n?" The gentleman behind the desk was clearly exhausted and overworked, nearing the end of his shift, as he glowered up at Rafayel's handsome face. Rafayel didn't even miss a beat, stating bluntly, as if you had agreed ages ago to this arrangement. "My fiancee, she's just been admitted in critical condition, where is she?" The gentleman takes a moment, before making a quick and quiet call to someone on the phone. After hanging up, his face hardened into indifference, as he looked up at Rafayel and motioned down the hall. "She's already been admitted to room C127. You can wait outside until the nurse is done in there."

Rafayel strides to the room without so much as a nod, and grabs the door handle. Before he can open it, he hears a long, painful groan from inside. Your voice. It sounds like you're in agony. He throws it open, shouting your name before the nurse can shush him for being loud.

Your body is laying on the hospital bed, weak but still very much whole. Scratched and battered, and clearly not doing well, but you are not missing anything that he can see. Maybe some hair got chopped off somehow, but you look beautiful to him regardless. He would love you even if you came back as a sea cucumber in the next life, he didn't care.

So when you locked eyes with him, startled by his shout and the slamming of the door, your blood ran cold. You had dropped your phone at some point, the screen shattered and the special hard case you had gotten completely useless, so the entire mission your mind had nagged at you at how worried he must be. You spent all your time teasing and sometimes flirting, but you hadn't been able to shake this feeling that you needed to tell him something more. Your thoughts had drifted to him frequently while you were out on your mission.

So when things started going wrong, and you mean very wrong, you couldn't let him know to wait for your call, or to assure him you were going to be okay, that your wounds were mostly superficial. His eyes, piercing and intense, bore a hole into your heart as if he was trying to make you pay for your betrayal, as if you had broken a promise from centuries past that you had made with him. You quickly tried to cover yourself in a defensive position, even from the bed.

The nurse immediately began to scold him, but he ignored her, as other staff began to run over at the shout. He was about to be escorted out, when you called his name. "Rafayel…" He stopped struggling against the orderlies in that moment. "Y/n! Tell them! You're my fiancee, are you not?!" You blinked through tears of fear, the repercussions of your actions would be indeed steep. "Yes! He is my fiance! Please, let him stay!"

The staff release him soon after, deciding to let it go. Before he could take a step into the room, he was pushed past by a tall, black-haired doctor. He felt familiar, but he couldn't place him. The door was shut shortly after with a cold, short "please give me a moment, she is my patient." And Rafayel stood there, dumbfounded. And a little embarrassed.

He glanced around as people whispered and stared, until he went to sit down outside the room on the chair, and folded his arms impatiently.

He was tapping his leg in annoyance until the door opened again. He stood and watched as the doctor left. He noted now that he was very handsome, and a pang of jealousy gripped his heart as he watched him solemnly nod to you in the room, and then ignore him on his way out. The nurse left shortly after.

You were laying there, in the room. You looked a little haggard now, as if the doctor's words had drained the energy out of you. He strode in, reaching your side in three long steps, only to grab your unbandaged hand and squeezing it.

You were looking down at your hand, as you tried to brace yourself for the barrage of questions, accusations, and the inevitable fight. But suddenly you felt tears on your hand, as his eyes blankly stared at you, large tears rolling down his gorgeous face. Your eyes locked onto his, and he nearly burst into an argument on the spot.

But you held your other hand up to stop him, before he could vent his anger. "I know. I messed up." His eyes softened as he took your other hand and pressed it to his cheek. "Don't do this to me, y/n…" The tears wouldn't stop, he was so angry. He had stayed home for weeks, absolutely worried sick over you, and the first thing he learns is that you've been injured like this, and you just ignored him instead of letting him know yourself.

Then he saw tears, returning his overwhelming emotions with your own. "I'm sorry…my phone…it got damaged…" You keep your hand clasped in his, the other still gently stroking his face. His eyes softened until he found himself holding you, his face buried in your neck. "Don't you dare ever do this again. Never again. You have to tell me when things happen…you must come back to me. Every time. In one piece." Before you could make another move, he scooched you over so he could sit beside you and hold you close. "This is why I hate your work…why can't you just be my bodyguard, and never leave my side? You're not supposed to be hurt like this, y/n…"

You wrapped your arms around him and held him for a moment. Your partner had kept you mostly safe, as he could handle himself, but you had fallen down a hill because of a misstep, which was the main cause of your obvious injuries. This was the first time in a very long time you had needed so many bandages, you usually just needed a quick patch on your way home. But this time you had messed up. You were such a clutz sometimes. But you would berate yourself later.

This man, this beacon of confidence and light-hearted whimsy, who always came bounding into your days with a smirk and a witty retort, was trembling in your arms, as if his world was shaken to its core. You stroked his back and buried your face in his collarbone, sighing softly in his warmth, as you waited for his quiet sobs to subside.

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

He was on top of your treatment plan after that, talking to the nurses, and even Zayne, your primary care physician. They were cold and calculated with eachother, and Zayne seemed especially displeased when he now knew the supposed relationship between you two, but you knew it was because Rafayel had wanted to see you right away, he didn't want to be hindered at the entrance. He didn't love you like that, but you were happy that he cared so deeply, nonetheless.

Zayne took him aside and spoke with him frankly in private, and you couldn't help but overhear some of what was said outside the door, as Rafayel was questioned mercilessly about his intentions, if he was lying, and if he truly even cared for you. When he flat out stated that he loved you and would die for you, your cheeks bloomed red, and you sat frozen to the spot, unable to move ever again.

When a nurse brushed past the two men glaring eachother down outside your hospital room, you were forced to focus on something else, as she mentioned you should be able to leave tomorrow, as your injuries turned out to be almost all superficial in nature. You had been covered in blood, scratches, and some severe bruising when you had arrived, but there was no internal bleeding, no deep gashes, no major bloodloss. Your Hunter partner was elsewhere in the hospital receiving treatment, and she advised you to be more careful from here on out, as she wouldn't be there tomorrow to see you released. The scolding smarted, but when the two men came back in after the nurse left, the room's atmosphere dropped to a point below freezing, as the two of them still hadn't reached an understanding.

"Um…Rafayel, this is Zayne…he's my doctor, and childhood friend…uhh…Zayne…this is Rafayel…he's…" you trail off, unsure what he was to you. Were you just friends with a deep bond? You didn't want to overstep his boundaries, making assumptions on his behalf. "Her lover." He stated flatly, still glaring at Zayne with a firey rage. Zayne maintained his aloof nature, glancing away from Rafayel to look at you. Your bright blush returned as you didn't argue the point in any way, and that seemed to answer the question he had.

"…I see." He nodded curtly to you. "Then I will leave you two to talk… Make sure she gets plenty of rest after this, and don't let her move around too much, she's still wounded." He turns to leave, before you have a chance to say anything to the contrary, and you are left in a storm of emotions, overwhelming and causing your heart to bob in your chest like a buoy at sea. Did he mean that? Did he want that…why would he say that to someone so important to you, without asking you first…you swayed between anger and fear, to warmth and joy at the idea that he wanted you to be in a relationship with him like that.

Before you can speak, he puts a finger to your lips. "Shh. I'm not going to force this, but…I was honest, what I said." Your heart flutters at that. Normally you wouldn't be swayed by his words like this, but his eyes were full of honest determination. He held your hands as he looked into your eyes. "I'm going to let you choose. But know that I want this…" He kisses your knuckles as he continues to stare into your eyes, holding you transfixed.

You gave it a lot of thought before you gave Rafayel an answer, and surprisingly, he didn't push the issue. He did spend a lot more time with you lately, making sure you ate and relaxed. He kept an eye on your bandages while you healed, and kept your mind busy with games and chatter all day when he dropped by. He almost lived at your apartment for a few weeks, so much as to even meet Xavier on his way home from the hospital himself. The two also didn't get along, and you found them outside your door having a silent argument, when you came out to see what was taking him so long to come back with the snacks.

"R-rafayel…this is Xavier…he's my partner. We go on missions together." Rafayel's eye twitches with jealousy at the mention of it. Xavier gives a faint smirk of smugness. "Xavier…this is…Rafayel…h-he's my…l-lover."

And in that instant, Rafayel's heart burst, and his smug smirk outshone even the sun. You had made your decision in that moment, without having any thought behind it. It just felt right. Xavier nodded quietly. "Well…I'm back, we'll talk soon at work…" Xavier turned to leave, and you gave him a smile and a quick "uh huh". Before he had taken even a step, Rafayel was pulling you into the apartment and shutting the door behind him.

You let out a scared gasp as he pinned you to the wall beside the door, and looked into your eyes, searching, pleading that it was true. "…are you sure?" You swallow hard, blushing deeply, before you let yourself finally nod silently. He smiles brightly, and takes your face into his hands gently, before placing a soft kiss to your lips. "Good. I was growing impatient."

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

a/n: I wanted something that pulled on some of the lore that really made you think about how Rafayel approached MC in general. I dunno, writing this made me happy. ♡

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

your takes are interesting bc i always read it as his desire being fake and pure manipulation.

That’s totally fair! I think manipulation plays in strongly, of course, but I think that’s not mutually exclusive from the Darkling being genuinely into her.

I feel like the narrative draws a distinct line between when he’s completely playing a part and when the desire is more genuine and I think the latter is characterized by some bitterness, definitely cruelty, and sometimes an undercurrent of violence (he sucks!)

Like when they kiss by the lake in the first book and he’s like “I don’t know why I care what you think, but I do 🥺🥺” that is 100% play acting lol

Oh you didn’t mean? This was completely unplanned? Sure Jan.

Comparatively I think the Winter Fete makeout scene is a little more dubious. I think him ignoring her for a bit after kissing her that first time, then suddenly paying a lot of attention to her is of course a deliberate ploy. And he’s obviously trying to seduce her and overwhelm her to a purpose.

But taking into account how he’s tried to present himself through the first half of SaB, or even in the Tailor, the impression he seems to want is like nice and reasonable and personable. So the angry vibe in that scene feels very counter to his typical playbook!

This is also where we get what I would argue is his character thesis.

This is definitely a value and perspective he actually holds, he’s not lying to her about that, in that moment. Manipulation or not. And I feel like this isn’t really a statement that gels with his persona? Like he doesn’t want to come across as the thousand year old evil wizard whose starved himself of all emotion and feeling until he’s a withered husk of a person, who in his own single mindedness keeps shooting himself in the foot wrt fairly attainable goals just because he doesn’t understand things like compassion, moderation, or common sense anymore. He’s pretending to be a spry and youthful centenarian who’s totally in touch with his feelings and soooo with the times, guys, he’s sooooo normal and down to earth. I digress.

But my point is that I don’t think he’s entirely behaving in a way that’s conducive to the front he’s been putting up! My interpretation is that the stag news has jarred him enough that he’s acting somewhat genuinely.

When Alina somehow (I don’t understand how this fucking works because it implies that it’s magical, not her just getting a vibe???) senses that he’s angry I think that’s also genuine. Like he basically says that he’s annoyed that he’s not planning the hunt for the stag like a goddamn adult and is instead making out with her in a random back room. And I think that’s… basically true, though he def seems to try to spin it as like making her feel special because he wants to make out with her that bad. When in reality (imo!) it really has nothing to do with her as a person at all, he’s just that hot and bothered at the thought of this thing he’s been pursuing for so long finally being within reach.

I think it’s telling that in the descriptions of them kissing he seems shdgdd pretty focused on her neck. He’s 100% having weird ass fantasies about the collar— which isn’t something she’s really in on, or quite grasps the significance of? So it’s not really a performance for her?

Idk! I just think that scene’s a good example of manipulation and genuine interest going hand in hand.

Post villain reveal, another case of “this doesn’t seem particularly aimed at Alina as an audience” imo is this bit, also from the first book:

First of all this scene is so fucking insane. (Not pictured: him making her beg for Mal’s life directly above this and being creepy about the collar.)

But this is a situation where Alina has told him that she’s willing to do everything he wants, if he spares Mal. That’s her one stipulation for submitting completely. He does not do that! In fact he goes out of his way to be as cruel as possible.

So considering that he is NOT softening his behavior for her at all, I feel like the narrative/Alina noticing longing is meant to be accurate. (My reading of it is that he’s tempted by her offer but wanting is weakness so lol he’s going to tank it immediately because being affected at all like that is scary to him) And again when he kisses her like, she is not happy about it! She does not want him to be kissing her! He knows that! So it’s presumably because he wants to, and whether that’s about power or desire… yes.

I fully agree that most of the saccharine stuff he says later on in the series (“I’ve seen who you truly are and I’ve never looked away” “You could make me a better man 🥺”) are just blatant lies sjdhfd I do not think he remotely believes them!

This instance in S&S is interesting though because it’s another juncture (imo!) where he is trying to manipulate her but is also kind of being genuine:

(LOL dismissive wave “I do not careee about your puppy love”)

He’s like “You are lonely because you’re seventeen and without much of any support system and miserable bc this power has separated you from all of your peers. Eye am lonely because I am one thousand years old and haven’t allowed myself to feel a single emotion since I was twelve. We totally relate ☺️”

Those two things are very much not the same! And I cannot imagine him not knowing that lol. But yeah, he’s simultaneously not in any other way trying to soften himself for her or try to convince her of his side of things. He seems completely willing to just forcibly drag her through whatever plan he has for completing the Amplifier set and using that for his random world domination plan? So just *generally* when he’s trying to manipulate her, post villain reveal, about how they’re Meant To Be and how only he understands her, I think that’s just with the aim of seducing her as opposed to seducing her itself being a means to an end?

[naancypants]

I think I've pinpointed the main reason I'm so viscerally unhappy with the direction the writers chose to go in with Nace -- obviously this is just my opinion, so any use of objective terms like "supposed to be", etc is not meant to be taken literally. It's just me airing out my takes on the storytelling.

For me, one of the most appealing things about Nace is how they juxtapose all of Nancy's other romantic endeavors. From the beginning, it's been different with Ace. He isn't a fast-moving hookup or a form of escapism. He gradually grows into the role of a best friend, a partner, someone she is emotionally open with, and the person who can keep her steady when shit hits the fan. Ace's presence encourages Nancy to embrace love (especially self-love) rather than facilitating her urge to push it away.

I associate Nick and Owen, Nancy's season 1 ships -- which ideally would establish a starting point for her -- with Nancy resigning to choices or circumstances that are out of her control, and having to move on from something she really wanted to make work. Both of these relationships were ripped from her grasp, thus leading to pain and reinforcing her belief that she isn't deserving of That Kind of love.

Do you see where I'm going with this?

Season 4 has essentially applied these negative season 1 traits to Nancy/Ace, her supposed endgame, with the curse and how it has torn them apart. I've always believed her endgame should break down these patterns entirely, not slap a new coat of paint on them. The idea is for Nancy to learn that true love doesn't HAVE to be painful, that love shouldn't break your spirit. Not when it's the right person. There's no real reason to be rehashing angst and hopelessness and rebounds this late in the game -- not with Ace, who is narratively recognized as The One. This should be the relationship for Nancy that symbolizes joy and the warmth of falling for a friend. It should feel cozy and stable. Why would we want to validate Nancy's belief that great love must come with great suffering? I've always loved Nace for the themes of growth that it reflects in Nancy's character -- that she is learning what real love feels like, that she is embracing her most authentic self, that she has moved away from the closed-off girl we met at the start who used relationships as a distraction from her pain.

Ace is supposed to represent comfort, security, and a safe haven from the strife that surrounds Nancy's life... yet now he is the central cause of her strife. I don't want her to be miserable because of whatever is going on with Ace. I want Ace to be her solace from whatever else is making her miserable! That's how this relationship was built to function!!! That was the entire point!!!!!

I can't help but feel like this star-crossed drama sours their connection a little, when I ship them specifically for the way Ace has always been an anomaly for her; someone with whom she could let her guard down and communicate freely due to the harmonious undercurrent between them. Now they can't make it through (1) conversation without 'breaking up' or stabbing each other in the heart. It's exhausting. It's counterintuitive to everything I love about them. I don't expect a relationship without its bumps in the road, but their arc is so dramatic and heightened now, it's like the writers have disregarded why these two worked so well together in the first place.

All I ever wanted was a sweet little slowburn coworkers-to-besties-to-lovers arc where they both surprise themselves by falling for each other 💐 of course I'm still rooting for them to end up together, but it hurts to know that what was once my #1 currently-airing OTP is barely even a shell of what I hoped it would be.

[canonicallyanxious]

Some quick and dirty gay chicken thoughts before I go into work:

I am loving the discussion of class issues so far, the nuance of the conversation and Wen's relative privilege (different levels of privilege though, esp with the focus on Heart's family home as a setting this ep), the way this presents a perpetually present undercurrent of conflict and realism that really sets the tone of the show and its themes well, I'm super looking forward to seeing how that thread develops!

Love the relationship developing bw Wen and Li Ming, I think it's so sweet that Li Ming can find someone who can listen to him without judgment and basically act as a calm mentor figure (did cringe when Wen tried to relate to his situation with his experience changing majors but I think you're supposed to, again that undercurrent of socioeconomic inequality is always present in the relationships of these characters) when he has such a contentious relationship with the other adult figures in his life, and you know I'm always a hoe for an older queer mentor/younger queer mentee relationship, even if so far the queerness doesn't explicitly factor into this particular relationship I do very much think that subtext is still there esp with the implications of how out of place Li Ming feels as a queer teenager versus how assured Wen is with his sexuality

As well I like that having this relationship develop gives Jim more reason to trust and like Wen - idk I just think Jim sees how sweet Wen is to his cat and his nephew and the things that are important to his life and how he seems to understand how they're important to Jim and like there's no way he's immune to that u know

Don't have much intelligent to say about Heart and Li Ming's relationship I just think it's very sweet and refreshing to have this relatively uncomplicated young love blooming in the face of all the drama brewing up, and Fourth and Gemini are totally nailing that tone of first love so far! My one nitpick about the storyline is I wish they had subtitles for Heart's signing esp now that Li Ming is sort of able to pick up what he means better now - I know you can kind of sus out meanings through Li Ming's responses but I just think it's a bit of a baffling choice not to make a storyline focusing on deafness more accessible

Jim's tragic backstory of his ex partner cheating on him is a very interesting choice in light of I still have no fuckin clue what is happening with Wen and Alan. I'm scared of this storyline and already have my reservations honestly lol but I will wait and see before passing judgment bc I've been really into the writing of the rest of the show so far (also the actual flashback really had me in my feelings... Uncle Jim you deserve all the happiness in the world.......)

(like it's weird that both Wen's father and close friend seem super nonchalant about him obviously having chemistry with this man when they also know about his relationship with Alan right. It's weird that Wen's dad who he has a close relationship with doesn't seem to know if Wen and Alan still together or not but also had that very foreboding line about needing to be unattached when you come together with a new lover. Whatever the fuck is going on there.)

I will never not find it funny that Jim is really out here like "okay this is strictly sex, purely physical, we won't kiss on the mouth or even learn each other's names and there will be absolutely no strings attached" and then still somehow managed to have the most tender one night stand sex I have ever seen. Like Uncle Jim idk what purely physical no feelings or strings attached sex looks like to you but somehow I have the feeling that reverently caressing your lips over every inch of another man's body while tenderly clasping his hand long into the night isn't it

[bestworstcase]

My midnight shower thought: for Ozma and all his incarnations Salem has remained the same visually. She looks more or less the same since he met her for the second time, in the first new life where they became gods among men and had a family. But for Salem the Ozma that she loved and lost too soon has never returned to her. It’s his soul moved up in there, an undercurrent of his voice below all the others. But she hasn’t truly seen Her Ozma since many man lifetimes ago. Stagnant water isn’t safe to drink. The Salem he loved he saw for the last time as he died in a bed. They have not seen each other in so long god. God!!!

ok ok ok

the thing

this is a wild tangent from what you said i apologize

but the THING IS

the first thing we learn about the grimm beyond the vague mythical description of inevitable darkness, creatures of destruction, so forth—the first proper information we get about them is that they are “manifestations of anonymity,” that their darkness is the darkness of ignorance, of not knowing, contrasted against the light of knowledge and understanding. the soul is identity and grimm lack souls because they are anonymous

which is all very interesting as it pertains to salem’s monstrosity being so inextricable from her anonymity, from the isolation enforced by ozma’s absolute commitment to erasing her from history and keeping her existence a secret. obviously. BUT,

salem throws herself into the pool of grimm because she reasons that the force of pure destruction it holds might cancel out the pure creation she has been forced to carry, right. it changes her profoundly, restoring the equal balance between creation and destruction that people are supposed to have and in the same stroke making her grimm. there’s an obvious metaphor being constructed here about scapegoating and dehumanization that like 95% of the fandom is missing in truly hilarious fashion but also more saliently to the point i’m getting to, salem stood on that precipice and gazed down into the abyss and thought about what might happen to her if she jumped before making the choice to actually jump, and i think maybe the most critical piece of information we have about what she thought the pool of grimm would do to her is “if the fountain of life granted her immortality, then surely the pool of grimm would take it away.” jinn implies a suicide attempt but her description of salem’s own reasoning is not about death, it’s about trying to become mortal again. trying to remove her infinite life by throwing herself into a darkness equal to the light inflicted upon her; i don’t think it mattered to her much either way whether the pool would kill her outright or spit out one more monster as long as whatever was left of her afterwards had the possibility of death. she didn’t know exactly what would happen, but she very much chose to do it to herself with full awareness of what that choice entailed.

and then when ozma comes out of his impulsive agreement to do what the god of light asked, screaming in disorientation and terror, when a stranger asks him “who are you?” and he recoils in horror as the realization of what happened to him sinks in, it’s with oscar standing by to mutter pityingly that he didn’t know. he didn’t know what he said yes to, what it would mean, and then god of light hurled him back onto a battlefield and he didn’t even know who he was.

salem has always been herself and her face has always been her own, the face of her birth and the face that she chose for herself, and it is so so achingly clear that the physical transformation did not fundamentally change her. she’s still just the person she’s always been, if buried under the weight of a thousand facile narratives piled on her shoulders by people who cannot or will not see her for who she is.

but ozma said yes to a duty he didn’t want just so he could see her again and he’s spent every goddamned minute of his existence since then having his identity shredded by an endless parade of other people whose lives and souls he’s forced to consume and then become, over and over and over again until it becomes fucking meaningless, until he’s spent thousands of different lives doing the exact same fucking thing in different flavors, variations on a theme. and the only comfort he can get is don’t worry, eventually you won’t even know whos who anymore. he still doesn’t know who he is, he’s spent thousands of years not knowing who he is, because the god of light tricked him into saying yes to being torn apart and molded into an instrument of divine authority.

and there’s, like

i go a little nuts every time i think about the fact that salem still calls him ozma, that she intuitively knows whether it’s him speaking or oscar, that even the very first time she saw him with an unfamiliar face she recognized him instantly. bc ozma can’t tell the difference, ozma doesn’t even self-identify as a person anymore and treats the distinction between himself and oscar as a temporary technicality, but salem still knows who he is as clearly as she knows herself, just as he has lost his sense of who she is as thoroughly as he’s lost his own identity. and by the same token ozma has for lifetimes defined himself solely in opposition to her, solely by his fixation on destroying her.

and all of this in the narrative that made it explicitly, plainly clear upfront that the soul is a person’s knowledge of themself. that what makes a monster a monster is having no sense of identity.

the god of light tried to take his champion’s soul and salem is the reason he can’t.

[alittlewhos-this]

AN: I haven’t written a fic in 84 years but I’m meant to be writing a novel so obviously now is the time to pick it up again. I love you, wife, for being a bad influence. Summary: A meditation-style ficlet about Richard Ellis

Richard buys them at pawn shops every so often, little trinkets he can keep ferreted about himself. How often he visits depends entirely on how good of a time he’s been having, how much His Majesty & Co have been travelling, and what exactly Lady Luck has to say for Richard. 

It isn’t a bad trip up to Yorkshire, into the presence of a gormless, impeccably handsome butler. He’s rarely seen a butler so stately and it’s enough to make him think, maybe, he could retire to some old estate and do the same thing as Barrow. Welcome visitors with open arms, and all that. It’s not a bad life. 

And it isn’t a bad shout, either, when Richard hangs back with his mum long enough that he’s only a bystander as he realises what, exactly, has happened to the club that night. He stands across the street, smoking in an alley, and watches the men all be carted off. Poor buggers. There but for the Grace of God, he thinks, though there is also the undercurrent of Serves them right.

Richard’s never been caught with his trousers down, metaphorically or otherwise. Even when he writes letters to men he’s been with, there’s nothing in them like what a lover would say. If they send him something back with that sort of thing in, he ignores that part of the reply and burns the letter; they get the gist. And there’s never initials on anything he leaves. Not his initials, anyway.

He doesn’t do it to be unkind, quite the opposite. Like a bugger’s private charity: there’s always a little bit of hope. But he lets the trinkets do much more of the talking, because his mouth has been known to lie to make people smile – and maybe the trinkets do, too, but at least without specific words tied to them. 

There isn’t much thought behind it when Richard decides to spring Barrow, other than that their meeting might be made to raise a few eyebrows with their colleagues if it comes out. He doesn’t really think Thomas would do time, because of his position and not being caught doing much, but his name in the paper would be enough to make a right balls up of his life. Hardly seems fair, especially not when Thomas was meant to be waiting for him. 

Then again, if he’d stayed waiting - 

But Richard isn’t one for grudges. He isn’t one for debts, either, and so doesn’t question if it’s in gratitude or desire that Thomas goes down on his knees in front of him. It isn’t one he gets often; a little gormless, maybe, but naïveté certainly isn’t a trait he’d ascribe Thomas. 

The next morning, with Thomas’s eyes sweet as sugar looking at him, he’s pretty glad it’s the last morning. He likes him, he does, but he isn’t sure he’d ever trust Thomas to take care of either of them. And he kisses him before he leaves, their first, with the door open so they’re necessarily cut off, so Thomas doesn’t say anything he’d regret saying while he’s still a little cockstruck. 

He hands him his token like a knight and a maiden in reverse, his second to last one on this tour, and promises to write.

And he does. 

They write for months, about little and big things, their work and families, gossip, but Thomas never quite gets the hints rest do. It’s like half the time he’s a normal, sensible bloke and the rest of the letter is written in heart’s blood and hairpins. 

He feels a little bad about lying to him about being engaged (God, imagine - his mother’d die of shock twice), but it isn’t enough to stop him from writing the letter with a steady hand. He can’t have someone like that attached to him, can’t really afford it. He doesn’t think anyone could. 

What was it he gave to Thomas? A watch fob with something on it. But it doesn’t really matter; no one would know where it had come from.  

Underneath the bright silvery light / You'll be feeling better soon / Pick up your hat / Close up your flat / Get out, get under the moon

[malpal132]

I've recently been watching Succession and the dark humor element reminded me of your work and you've said before you're a big succession fan. As any completely stable dramione consumer would, I couldn't help but try to fit these two idiots into a succession au but me being me I resigned myself to ask a more talented person about how they would go about making setting up this au? Would Lucius be Logan? Would you give Draco siblings and how would he deal with that? How would Hermione come into this and how would she and Draco scheme for corporate takeover?

anon...what have you done to me? this ask has consumed me. swallowed me whole and spit me back out ass backwards. but listen, i tried. i tried to keep it dramione. the issue is that it wouldn't make the best dramione story, imo, but it would make a decent panville.

this is gonna be a whole thing, so buckle up. i'm walking you through my thought process.

shiv first, for once in her life: my initial thought was ginny (only girl in a family of boys, always fighting for her place, fiery attitude, etc.) but shiv's dynamic with tom is so essential and when it comes to that toxic sort of relationship, i think pansy parkinson fits better. she's cutthroat and not overly sentimental. which brings me to--

tom: who is easy to underestimate and would neeeeever be the dom in the relationship with shiv!pansy? neville longbottom. obviously he's a particularly shitty version of neville who's never quite fit in and takes his power trips where he can find them, but he is genuinely in love with his wife and she's never taken him seriously. you know who does take him seriously?

greg: gregory goyle. and not just because his name is greg already! his cleverness is constantly underestimated but he was sorted into slytherin for a reason. despite being known a bit of an oaf, he's always craved proximity to power and knows how to play the part of a cronie. also the homoerotic undercurrent between him and neville!tom are very important to me.

logan: severus snape. he could be many things in this au, whether it's a uni potions professor (like those exist, lmao) with only one fellowship to offer or it could be a company. he loves a power trip and doesn't care about traumatizing any of his "kids." 1000% doesn't think anybody can do it better than he can, and he might be right.

kendall: draco malfoy, obviously. he's always seen himself as the favorite and, having grown up in the lap of luxury, he's used to getting what he wants. wholeheartedly believes that he's the best option despite being crippled by insecurity and ever so occasionally, by empathy. he wants to trust people even though it keeps getting his ass kicked. would absolutely ask for logan!snape's help to cover up some legal trouble that he gets in and mistake logan!snape's willingness to help for love when it's really leverage.

stuey: blaise zabini. kendall!draco thinks they're allies but blaise is more cutthroat and skeevy than kendall!draco could have predicted. growing up with a mom who regularly marries for money and whose spouses mysteriously die shortly after their nuptials, stuey!blaise knows how to scheme. doesn't have a heart, definitely encourages kendall!draco's coke problem.

roman: theodore nott. hey, daddy issues! rarely taken seriously despite being weirdly earnest and caring deeply about the fellowship/company. will always sacrifice what needs to be sacrificed if it's in the "family's" best interest, including/not limited to some really shady shit. degradation kink.

gerri: narcissa malfoy. a regal woman with a deep understanding of how logan!snape works. she has a soft spot for roman!theo and tries to keep him out of trouble despite kendall!draco's disgust at their bond. knows she's a hot piece of ass with a clever brain to back it up.

connor: percy weasley. this guy is more ego than actual brain cells. street-stupid. dumb enough to still feel empathy for his "siblings" when that kind of weakness automatically disqualifies him from any of the prestige he craves.

willa: lavender brown. younger than connor!percy, lavender is used to being overlooked as a bit of a bimbo and has learned to use it to her advantage. as an artiste, money is her bottom line because her true love is her craft and staying with someone as insufferable as connor!percy is worth it for the funding. for now, at least.

comfry: astoria greengrass. chic, aloof, and eternally out of reach for poor greg!gregory (lmao), she puts up with kendall!draco's attempts to stay relevant because he pays pretty well.

like i said, it would be panville and it would be delightfully toxic. shiv!pansy and roman!theo would be so fucking caustic when they fight, the sexual tension between roman!theo and gerri!narcissa would be palpable, and watching kendall!draco get fucked over in every which way would be 🤌🤌🤌

anon. this was such an amazing ask. i'm sorry i didn't deliver on the dramione. my brain held a knife to my throat and was like don't you fucking dare. pls consider being not anonymous so we can yell at each other back and forth about this.

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #635

Top Ten Funniest Moments in the Star Wars Movies

I did have a whole other list prepared to go this week, but then I noticed that Saturday is actually May 4th – which, of course, has become Star Wars Day around the world.

May the Forth be with you, and all that. Yeah?

Anyway, as such I did a reverse womp rat and decided to write a list about Star Wars. I’ve covered the saga quite a few times, so trying to find a new and interesting angle can be a challenge (but, hey, if I can find new things to say about Transformers then surely I can manage it with Star Wars, right?). As such, I’ve honed in on something not much talked about in the history of a galaxy far, far away: humour.

Generally speaking, I think most people would agree that Star Wars isn’t particularly funny. Sure, it’s not generally dour or overly serious, despite moments of heightened melodrama; and, yes, there are definitely lighthearted, bouncy sorts of characters who propel the narrative and keep the films feeling fun and propulsive (yer Han Solos and Poe Damerons). But funny? Is Star Wars often actually funny? To be honest, when the franchise has gone all-in on attempts at humour, it tends to get heavily criticised; from the antics of Jar Jar to the sarcasm of Luke Skywalker. The criticism varies from humour feeling out of place, somehow, or childish; despite the camp bickering and mild slapstick of Artoo and Threepio being prevalent right from 1977. Indeed, a few quotes here are from the very first Star Wars film; so perhaps there has always been an undercurrent of humour?

The broad melodrama of Star Wars means that – certainly in the register of the movies – comedy has a welcome place, even if the films themselves aren’t the laugh-fests of, say, most MCU movies. Star Wars films are like Shakespeare’s histories; full of drama, political intrigue, and a fair bit of death and despair, but also relying on stock comic relief characters, moments that play to the younger end of the audience. I’d still argue that the movies are, for the most part, children’s films, but even if you say that they’re just part of the overall PG-13-ification of Hollywood, they definitely have to remain suitable for children. As such, Ewoks and Jar Jar and BB-8 are a terrific – and often very funny – focal point for the nippers; as intrinsic to Star Wars as lightsabers and dodgy dialogue.

Anyway, the point I’m making is that Star Wars, whilst far from hilarious, does have its fair share of amusing characters and witty lines. And this list celebrates some of my favourites. My big surprise in writing it? How many were spoken by See Threepio!

“Wanna buy some death sticks?” (Attack of the Clones, 2002): I didn’t know which Obi-Wan Kenobi bit of prequel business to choose from, as they’re so many; he’s clearly the most consistently funny character in the trilogy. His dry, camp delivery is amazing; from “good job” when being “rescued” by Anakin, to “hello there” and beyond. But this scene is iconic: Elan Sleazebaggano (yes, really) tries to sell Kenobi some “death sticks”, but is Jedi mind-tricked into going home and rethinking his life. It plays, obviously, on our knowledge of Obi-Wan’s mind-trickery, but the deadpan delivery of both characters adds to its humour.

“I don’t like you either.” (A New Hope, 1977): Artoo and Threepio’s camp married couple bickering is a highlight of the original trilogy, especially the first film. Like Obi-Wan’s dry one-liners, there’s just so much to choose from; “near-sighted scrap pile” is another nice little insult from the bitchiest droid in the verse. But the small pettiness of this, after Luke has left them alone, is a hoot; reinforced, of course, by Artoo’s vocalisations, especially the sorrowful whine after Threepio turns his back.

“Who’s scruffy-lookin’?” (The Empire Strikes Back, 1980): I’d argue this might be the second most famous Star Wars exchange after “I am your father”; Han needling Leia until she snaps, calling him – among other things – a “scruffy-looking nerf-herder”. The button on the bit is that the only thing Han takes offense at is “scruffy-looking”. Then she kisses her brother. I’d sooner kiss a wookiee.

“Boring conversation anyway.” (A New Hope, 1977): Han is often portrayed as the cool and unflappable rogue hero, but when he attempts to bluff the Empire over comms, he becomes well and truly flapped. Harrison Ford’s little wince after he asks “how are you?” is a joy. And, of course, when it gets to much, he blasts the comms panel, and delivers this great final line.

“Of course I’ve looked better!” (The Empire Strikes Back): yes, more of Threepio’s banter. The running escape from Cloud City is an excellent, tense action scene, with a partially-disassembled Threepio stuck in a rucksack on Chewie’s back. As Artoo drags him onto the Falcon, he whinges about the wookiee “being the death” of him; Artoo merrily bleeps and bloops, prompting Goldenrod’s tart reply.

“I believe he’s tooling with you, sir.” (The Last Jedi, 2017): the humour in The Last Jedi was one of the elements of the film that proved contentious; however, my memory is that this scene absolutely slayed when I saw the film. Whilst I do want to shout-out my boy Eddie Hitler, aka Adrian Edmondson, as the First Order officer who politely delivers the line I’ve chosen, really the comedy comes from Domhnall Gleeson’s exasperated and confused performance as General Hux reacts to Poe Dameron’s “tooling”.

“Mine! Or I will help you not!” (The Empire Strikes Back, 1980): a classic bit of Muppet magic from Frank Oz, as Yoda’s secret introduction allows him to show off all kinds of mischievous energy. His giggly, wide-eyed enthusiasm as this weird little toad-creature is infectious and disarming, but it’s his squabble with Artoo – including the delightful way he grabs his stick and batters the droid – that makes it art.

“Reach out…” (The Last Jedi, 2017): maybe the other contentious, funny, scene. Luke asks Rey to “reach out”, which she does physically, so he pretends she can feel the Force. It’s a nice bit of slapstick, well performed by Ridley and Hamill; and it’s interesting to contrast it to the silliness of Yoda. Personally, I don’t se any difference whatsoever in the two scenes; they’re both attempting to subvert or play with the concept of “wise old mentor”, they both reveal character aspects of those involved, and they’re both really funny.

“Oooh, maxibig da Force. Wellen, dat smells stinkowiff.” (The Phantom Menace, 1999): I remember a criticism of The Phantom Menace being that there was no Han Solo-esque “voice of cynicism”. Step forward Mr. Binks, who clearly doesn’t believe in the Force, and spends most of the first act boggling at the foolhardiness of his Jedi rescuers. This particular line, when he sarcastically praises the Force, is just terrific. Or is it “bombad”?

“Go on, BB-8, tell her.” (The Force Awakens, 2015): probably my out-and-out favourite moment of The Force Awakens, and one that – like the opening “tooling” scene of Last Jedi – brought the house down. Finn is trying to get BB-8 to go along with his Resistance cover story, and the droid’s mute (well, indecipherable) reactions – spinning his head between Finn and Rey – are just fantastic. And then it culminates with his now-iconic “thumbs up”. Gah, where was all this during The Rise of Skywalker?

See? Funny. Lots of funny. Quite a lot of stuff I didn’t have room for, either; I deliberately kept the Obi-Wan-isms to a minimum, although I did stuff the list full of Threepio-isms. I didn’t put any of Kaytoo’s deadpan misanthropy in there; nor any more of Han’s grumpy humour (and not a single finger point!). And sadly I didn’t really have room for some of Leia’s great put-downs, like “walking carpet”. But the big scene that just slipped off the list? Why, the infamous trash compactor scene, and Threepio’s hilarious bit of business at the end. Curse my metal body!

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 13 - ao3 -

The wedding of a sect leader with the stature of Wen Ruohan was, as Lao Nie had predicted, an experience unlike any Lan Qiren had ever had before.

It was also, as Wen Ruohan had predicted, loud and full of crowds, things that Lan Qiren didn’t especially like. Luckily, despite being the groom’s ‘brother’, Wen Ruohan wasn’t requiring Lan Qiren to actually participate in any way, and he was just able to watch from a distance.

He tried not to think of Wen Ruohan’s casual admission that he had, in fact, devised the marriage just to deal with the issues with Lan Qiren’s reputation – and Lao Nie’s concern thereof, no doubt – and reassured himself that the bride was undoubtedly well prepared for her new life and would soon find her footing as the mistress of the Wen sect, where she would more than likely be happy in time.

That was how such things went, wasn’t it? Even with his sect’s notorious tendency towards love-madness, the people like his father, who married for love, were the exception and not the rule…

(He also tried not to think about the fact that Wen Ruohan accepted all the toasts for his wedding using a drinking bowl in Gusu style, painted with a border of vermilion birds, or the fact that, despite Lan Qiren having gifted a set, it was the only one of its kind on the table, leaving Wen Ruohan's new bride to drink from a much fancier gold-gilded bowl – but that was more because he didn’t understand what it meant, and wasn’t sure he wanted to.)

“Did you even get a chance to see him?” his brother asked when they returned, looking coldly disapproving.

“I did,” Lan Qiren said, thinking to himself less of the dinner that they’d shared with Lao Nie and more of the brief moment when the Lan sect delegation been about to leave, a servant appearing and whisking him off briefly back to the family quarters where Wen Ruohan, looking as composed as ever, pressed a too-familiar hand to his head and told him that he was sure he’d be seeing him again soon. “He didn’t say much.”

Nothing his brother would care about, anyway.

His brother nodded, looking unsurprised, and dismissed him, remarking unnecessarily, “You missed the first few days of classes,” as if Lan Qiren wasn’t aware of when each season of classes started for the disciples better than him. After all, Lan Qiren hoped to become a teacher one day, when he tired of traveling, and to do for future generations of the Lan sect what his teachers had done for him, and he took it as seriously as he did anything else.

The seasonal classes were his favorite, largely because such classes were open not only to the Lan sect disciples but to certain guest disciples – typically the children of rogue cultivators that the Lan sect wanted to encourage to join the sect, which meant that they had to pass through the same rigorous standards applicable to the usual sect disciples. Lan Qiren had always thought it was a shame that their classes were so limited in scope, although he acknowledged there wasn’t much to be done about it; after all, how many sects would be willing to send their children to be taught by outsiders?

A puzzle for another day.

For now, Lan Qiren made his way to the classroom, taking advantage of the lunch break to settle his things in his familiar seat at the side of the room. He hoped that coming in during the middle of the day would reduce the number of whispers that seemed to invariably greet him these days – luckily much more inclined to see him as a source of information rather than a victim or, worse, a perpetrator – but he didn’t have much faith in it.

“Hey, you’re in my seat.”

Lan Qiren looked up: it was a female disciple. Her face was unfamiliar to him, which suggested she was a rogue cultivator – while men and women lived separately in the Cloud Recesses, they came together for meals and other such events, and despite his introversion, Lan Qiren knew most if not all of his peer group by now.

“Sanren,” he said politely, rising and saluting. “Forgive me, but this has always been my seat.”

She frowned at him. “You didn’t claim it at the start of classes.”

“I missed the start of classes due to an unavoidable conflict.”

“I’ve been using it all week,” she said, and looked at him expectantly, as if anticipating an answer.

Lan Qiren wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say here. “I’ve been using it all my life. What’s your point?”

“So you’re not going to give it up for me?”

Lan Qiren stared at her. “Obviously not.”

She grinned toothily at him. “All the boys give up their seats for me. I understand that it’s a matter of etiquette.”

“Whoever told you that was lying,” he said flatly.

“Oh, I like you,” she said, and crossed her arms – an aggressive posture, although her tone, like Wen Ruohan’s, seemed more amused than anything else. How strange to see a sudden resemblance, when they very clearly had nothing else in common. “How would you know? Maybe it’s in the rules.”

Well, that was a mistake.

“Really,” Lan Qiren said, and smiled. “Why don’t we examine that supposition?”

She blinked at him, suddenly wary, but it was too late: if there was one thing Lan Qiren knew, it was his sect’s rules. Learning how to beat people over the head with them on purpose was a more recent development, and he was still working on fine-tuning that – most people started begging for mercy while he still felt irritated, but when they continued listening with apparent interest, as the rogue cultivator girl did, he swiftly forgot that he was trying to make a point and shifted over to actual enthusiasm for the subject.

“Cangse Sanren!”

Lan Qiren’s listener started and very nearly fell over – she’d put her chin on her hands at some point during the discussion of the origin of the rules regarding interactions between men and women, and hadn’t accounted for that when twisting to see who was calling her.

It was a mixed group of sect disciples, with some of Lan Qiren’s cousins and disciples of other surnames that he recognized, plus a few more that were likely rogue cultivators’ children as well.

“Oh,” she said. “You. What is it?”

“I see you got caught up in one of Lan-er-gongzi’s boring rule lectures,” one of the disciples said – one of Lan Ganhui’s friends, with Lan Ganhui himself nearby, grimacing at him in an attempt to make him stop. Lan Ganhui had gotten a lot more likely to leave Lan Qiren alone ever since Lan Yueheng had decided to befriend him, even intervening to make his friends leave off, but this time the other disciple ignored him, his eyes too focused on those ahead of him to pay him any mind; he was smiling intently at the rogue cultivator girl in a way that was clearly attempting to seem charming. “Don’t feel like you have to listen to him just because he’s main branch, you know! No one else does.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” one of the others muttered, glancing warily at Lan Qiren. It wasn’t apparent whether he was concerned about Lan Qiren’s rank, personality, or family connection.

For his part, Lan Qiren just felt tired. He would like to think that they were all part of the same sect, learning the same things, but he knew that wasn’t how the world worked. There were good people and bad in every sect, and the undercurrents that came with any community were inescapable.

“You’re joking, right?” the girl – who had the title of Cangse Sanren, apparently – said unexpectedly. “His explanation is three times more interesting than the stupid learning by rote we’ve been doing so far.”

“Learning by repetition has a long history of being the most effective way of learning something,” Lan Qiren objected. “Even the most unrepentant scoundrel would learn the rules by heart if he had to copy them down for a month, and then when that was done and the foundation built, you could get started on explaining the why of them.”

“But repetition’s not as interesting,” Cangse Sanren said. “I really liked that story about Lan Yi.”

Lan Qiren looked at her suspiciously. He’d never outgrown his tendency to speak in a dull monotone – one of his peers had once compared it to the thudding of grinding stones in a mill – and it was the rare person who actually appreciated the rules the way he did. His teachers, of course, and some of the other more studious disciples did, but even with them he’d be hard pressed to say they actually liked his rambling.

She held up her hands. “Really! I feel like I understand why she put the rule in place now, whereas before it felt like I was just learning the rule for the sake of learning the rule.”

“That’s because you need to learn the rules before you learn the background,” he said. “The rules are a house built without nails, each piece in its place doing its part to maintain the whole - one rule backs another, while being supported in turn. Only once you know what the rules are can you move to understanding the reasons behind them.”

And from understanding to accepting, allowing our ancestors’ wisdom to act as a guiding light that clears the fog from your path, he wanted to say, because he loved the rules, truly and sincerely.

People made fun of him sometimes, thinking him boring or stuffy or overly strict, with no flexibility and too little empathy, saying he was obsessed with the rules for no beneficial purpose, but to him the rules were a gift from the past to the future. The Wall of Discipline represented the accumulated life experience of dozens if not hundreds of Lan sect disciples before him, turned through debate and contemplation into advice they thought would be able to help guide those that came after them to living a good, clean, happy life. As their descendant, how could he fail to honor that which those people, who had loved him without knowing him, had strained themselves to give him?

In just the same way, it was his duty to love the future generations that had yet to be born, to act as the bridge to that unknown future, entrusted by his ancestors to carry to them the rules that would be both his inheritance and his legacy. Those nameless faces dressed in Lan white, unborn children with his brother’s face or even his own, of his cousins and fellow disciples alike, all those souls that had yet to enter this world but who he loved so much already – if he could spare them a single iota of pain through his own experience, how could he not do so, and gladly? How could he not do everything he could to give them everything he had received from the rules, that sense of pride of their history, the strength and wisdom that could be passed down no other way? How could that be a burden?

Lan Qiren had never really had the chance to explain any of that to anyone, his tongue too stiff and clumsy to convey what sometimes he felt could only be expressed in song or poetry, and he did not have such a chance now: as usual, the other disciples were already laughing, dismissing him as a teacher’s pet, overly rule-bound, obsessed with homework and test-taking, a boring old fart whose soul was prematurely aged.

“What’s wrong with being old?” Cangse Sanren asked, her voice flatter than it was before, and the boys in front of her suddenly scrambled to start apologizing so fast that Lan Qiren was left wondering what exactly he’d missed.

“Class is starting soon,” he said instead of asking, though he promised himself he’d ask around later. Surely someone would know. “Everyone should take your seat – no, Cangse Sanren, as I’ve said, that one is mine.”

She grinned unrepentantly at him and stepped back over where he’d kicked his foot out to block her. “You win, this time,” she said, and took the seat next to him with absolutely no remorse for whoever might have been sitting there before. “Watch yourself, stick-in-the-mud.”

Lan Qiren glared, though somehow Cangse Sanren’s teasing didn’t feel as annoying as the other disciples’ usually did. Even if she did make several more attempts on his seat over the course of the day, causing him to have to fend her off or think ahead to evade her latest attempt.

He initially thought that she might try to come to class early the next day to try to claim it before he did, but instead she dragged herself in only moments before class was due to start, face haggard as if waking up at the very tail end of mao hour was the equivalent to rising at yin, although she was back to her regular form soon enough, bright and clever enough to make any teacher fond of her.

This became something of a pattern, in fact – sluggish wakening, intellectual jousting during class and an unspoken competition over the seat that had formerly been reserved for him outside of it. In the afternoons she usually went off with the more martially minded disciples, while he spent his time in the library or musical halls, though at some point she started dropping off random foodstuffs by his door in the early evening as if she thought he was too thin.

“Maybe she has a crush on you!” Lan Yueheng said enthusiastically; bizarrely enough, he seemed to like romance as much as his explosions or his math.

“I think it’s a little closer to treating me like a stray cat that she found and took a shine to,” Lan Qiren said, shaking his head. All the boys in the sect would have paid in gold and jewels for Cangse Sanren to give them a second look, and she didn’t care one whit for the best of them; there was no need for her to go courting when she could get three serious offers of marriage just by winking. “Give them here, I’ll redistribute them to the younger children.”

“You can’t do that!” Lan Yueheng looked offended. “It’s her sincere offering! From the heart!”

“It’s food she purchased in town,” Lan Qiren said doubtfully. “It’s not as if she baked them herself. Anyway, I can’t eat this many sweets without getting a stomachache. What else am I supposed to do with it? Let it rot?”

“Qiren-xiong, you’re the most unromantic person I’ve ever met.”

“I’m going to assume that’s a bad thing,” Lan Qiren said, not taking offense. “Do you want some? Last offer before they’re gone.”

“…well, I mean, if you’re going to give them away anyway…”

He told Cangse Sanren what he was doing the next day, as a matter of politeness in the event that she wanted to stop once she knew what he was doing, and she just laughed – she always laughed at just about everything, he’d found. She didn’t stop delivering food, either, which he might have expected, though she did shift over into items that were easier to distribute.

Their entire mode of interacting was simultaneously very annoying and also not, and Lan Qiren didn’t have the slightest idea about what to do with it.

And then he got his first letter from Wen Ruohan.

[melrosing]

the funniest explanation for the "brienne is going to be pregnant with jaime's child" theory i've heard is that jaime has weak pull-out game lol. but it's a given that jb are going to bang and we have to rely on that. i know it happened on the show so people are convinced it's going to happen in the books, but what do you think? i know you're ??? about marriage and children, but don't you think brienne/jaime would want to be married if they ever decide to be intimate? won't it be dishonourable to bed a woman he hasn't married? And i refuse to accept any one night stand/fuckboy jaime theories. sorry lots of questions.

JB banging is telegraphed so blatantly in the books that literally whatever your endgame expectations are, I don’t know how you could deny it. like I’m always in two minds about marriage/kids/Jaime even surviving, but JB are going to fuck. I have litch rally no doubts.

like first off, they’re both aroused by the sight/thought of each other. there’s absolutely no need to include that unless you mean to go somewhere with that mutual attraction. like if GRRM wants them to be a chaste romance, all he has has to do is the standard pining but nooope they’re full on checking each other out and getting hot and sweaty about it. let them fuck!!!

second, both are kind of a chekhov’s gun in the sex department. Jaime states at the beginning of his arc that he’s only ever slept with one woman. and he’s recently broken up with said woman. so. wonder where that’s going. Brienne, meanwhile, is widely known as the Maid of Tarth, with her maidenhood coming up repeatedly: Brienne, despite having desires, likely assumes that she either won’t lose her maidenhood or that it’ll be taken by force at some point – she hasn’t been allowed to view it as something she has much agency in keeping or losing, but obviously she’s never had a safe and caring relationship that would afford her that agency. so, wonder where that’s going. i will tell you. jb bonetown

then there’s that swordfight they have in ASOS, and everyone and their dog has written about the sheer amount of innuendo that’s going on there but the fact remains: the whole point of the scene is to establish JB’s physical chemistry. it says, look how evenly matched they are, look at how they surprise and impress one another: and now imagine what this looks like in bed. the fact that we’ve already had Jaime's whole ‘only feels truly alive when fucking or fighting’ thing is also an undercurrent here, like Jaime's language of passion is in this kind of physicality, and the language of their sparring comprises both: it's Brienne speaking it back to him

and finally there’s just the fact that Brienne and Jaime are both kind of critiques of medieval purity culture embodied by Arthurian figures like Sir Galahad, who pointedly does not fuck and does no wrong. Brienne’s POV literally interrogates heroes like this through Ser Galladon: his story might sounds good on paper, but as the esteemed scholar Nimble Dick points out, it’s no good trying to be this Perfect Knight - we’re all mortal and we have to defend ourselves as such. so I don’t see JB's courtship being used to promote traditional notions of abstention and chastity purported by Galahad, or any kind of courtship that’s somehow ‘above’ ~mortal pleasures~

anyway they’re going to fuck. as for whether they’d wait for marriage, I don’t really think so. once they’ve realised mutual attraction, I don’t see any reason why they’d put off sleeping together: Brienne’s much less of a stickler for tradition than people say, given that she’s actively avoided the traditional route for a Westerosi lady, and in fact is just wandering the Riverlands following her own rules at the moment. she follows her heart and tries not to care too much about what other people think, so if she really wants to fuck Jaime, I don’t think she’s gonna be worrying all that much about what ceremonies ought to go first.

Jaime meanwhile has demonstrated that he doesn’t really care about oaths of celibacy when the desire is pressing enough: he manages to reject Cersei in the midst of a break-up, and he can ignore interest from Pia given there’s no deeper attraction there, but like given what we’ve established is going on between JB… can see his willpower being significantly depleted lol. and as we see with the Night’s Watch, celibacy is a pretty easy vow to break, marriage is a much bigger one, so the wedding is probably the one they’d have the lengthy conversation about, not fucking.

the only thing I could possibly see Jaime thinking twice about is the dishonour it might bring Brienne but lbr: if she says she doesn’t care (and I don’t think she will particularly), then honestly life’s too short. and what’s more, marrying the Kingslayer arguably brings more dishonour and strings attached, so can’t really see Jaime saying it’d be better if they waited till she was Brienne Lannister lol.

buuut they’re both medieval nobles so I imagine they are at least going to consider what marriage might look like. we see with Robb and Jeyne that as soon as a two nobles get together, marriage is gonna at least cross their minds as the next natural step. and there’s enough foreshadowing of that between JB to suggest that they’d both be interested in the prospect

anyway. the GOT one-night-stand stuff is just stupid, who knows what was going through D&D’s minds (if anything), but literally nothing exudes JB less than ‘hey I’m horny and you’re virgin shall we just get it out our systems :)'

[fairycosmos]

Hello, I hope you’re having a nice day! There’s something I wondered, and I really hope it’s not selfish. I’ve wondered for a while but wasn’t sure it was appropriate to ask. It really sucks to see someone so down, you seem like a good person, and deserve some freedom! So I suppose, when you talk about your loss, how you’ve been left with so much, how grief is a terrible burden, which is completely reasonable. Do you ever feel angry? Maybe angry at your sister? I know it’s not good to place unjust blame and let those feelings consume you, but just from an outside view it’s upsetting that you were the one left with such a burden! It seems cruel to me, I can’t help feeling like tour situation would naturally make someone angry at the person they lost. Is it like that? I’m really sorry if this is an ignorant thing to ask.

hey dw it's not ignorant at all, it's cool. this is going to be long but it's the only way to explain the complexities of what you asked so sorry about that! im definitely really angry. the intensity of it comes and goes, but there's always this undercurrent of rage that i literally can't let go of. ive mentioned this before, but when she first died, every time i tried to speak to her outloud (like everyone told me to) it would just end up with me lecturing her. like a parent. i could not and still can't believe what she's done, even if it wasn't intentional. i cant stand it. i feel frustrated to the point of tears that she wasn't more careful, that she didn't perceive enough value in herself and her life to take care of herself properly. because she was quite literally the most amazing person ive ever known, and i can not fathom that she would be so careless and that she would gamble her safety like that. the last few weeks were so enraging, she just wouldn't listen. it was like she was very suddenly a different person, and i'm still carrying a lot of frustration because of that. on a related note, we used to joke all the time that dealing with our family, and with the future, would be hell if we didn't have each other - she used to tease me like, what would you do without me? - and now i'm so beyond mad that that is my reality. and it will be forever because of her actions. i'm alone in the worst way without her and i can't put into words how mad i am because of it. it feels almost mocking. sometimes i look at her pictures and think, you're laughing at me right now. even though i know that's not fair. she would be fucking devastated to see that things turned out this way. she would spend forever apologising, but ultimately i still don't think shes got anything to be sorry for. she was struggling in a way i never have, above all else.

i'm really pissed off at the nature of her death and at the nature of grief, too. i think all the time about how unlucky she was, about how her shitty boyfriend abused drugs for years and hes still alive - the whole fucking world takes them. i don't understand why she died and how it happened so quickly, i just don't get it. theres a lot about that actual overdose that makes me deranged with anger too, i can barely talk about that part. and mourning itself is so frustrating. i'm incredibly angry at how permanent it is, how isolating, how nobody seems to get it. and how anyone has the audacity to think i should care about the world, or about my own life, or anything. my best friend died, everything else is background noise. the fact that i'm expected to keep going is a fucking joke. i'm also super mad at my family, which i'll never say to them, but i am. maybe they just shouldn't have fucking had kids if they were going to let them turn out like this. obviously the person i'm most angry at is myself, because i should have done more. i go on about how she was the person i loved the most in this world, and look at how she ended up. i'll never stop being pissed at myself for not checking on her more that night, or for not dragging her to a rehab center, even if i know logically it wasn't that simple back then. she'd have told me she was taking care of it, she'd have lied. but yeah, when i think about it, the outline of this whole situation is just absolute unadulterated fury.

[hermionecentric]

the gloriana set (derogatory)

around chapter 50 im like, where has the story gone? why has every character turned into a caricature of themselves? nothing is happening at this point except drawn out, cartoonish behaviour and pure nonsensical drama. ok cool neville is here but forcing him to talk about his sex life when he's obviously uncomfortable seems extreme and wrong. is this supposed to be a display of friendship? am i the only one who thinks it's not cool.

also what started off as ok cool hermione establishing her independence and individuality, has sourly turned into hermione acting like a rabid chihuahua without a shred of self awareness. and not in a cute way. by giving the story a focal point of "situations where men displayed an undercurrent of controlling, patronising, manipulative behaviour get taught a lesson by the narrative" to "the only thing holding the narrative and it's characters together are displays of controlling, patronising, manipulative behaviour." oh btw let me just toss in an attempted sa and then never mention it again because my sidekicks have taken up an uncomfortably large portion of the story. also these cheap gimmicks will not provide anything to the story, the story doesn't exist anymore because all you're reading is what should be ooc crack one-shots that have deviated so far from the original premise, you don't even know what you're reading anymore.

but sure, fuck it let's just destroy all these characters we spent 50 chapters creating. fuck why not turn ron into a horrid, possessive, stupid, spitting and drooling caricature of a dog on a leash as a friend? i feel like on one hand ok cool you've accomplished a lot in terms of character progression... but know when to stop. i miss hermione and her loop. i miss malfoy having depth. you're really going to mention draco's love is an obsession and then show me exactly how it is and then want me to accept it as the new driving power in the narrative? like. HER LOOP ISN'T EVEN MENTIONED ANYMORE!!! you had so many opportunities.... where are they gone? theo's character is probably the only part of this im still invested in. ginny has 0 personality, blaise is taking up way too much space, the flashback was terribly written, and the prank on astoria is like 10 chapters late of me even caring about it.

to take all this extra shit out, bringing it back to basics of shit: there's a curse on hogwarts (wow malfoy blood...), astoria (get punkd sucka), hermione's plan for after hogwarts (just like hermione's pov, im just trying to get through this story one day at a time), hermione and ginny's friendship taking a back seat to their boytroubles, the aspect of boytroubles at all honestly..., hermione and draco get together and don't immediately solve all the sexual tension they both have with each other AND theo (let's be honest). this is debt of time level painstakingly boring middle material. just waiting tens of thousands of words to get to a story that could've been told better and more succintly if the author had any sense of tension, payoff, build-up, and character loyalty and didn't just fuck around in the mud.

why is everyday like bam wake up bam something happens bam something happens bam she sleeps 7 hours, girl im exhausted even reading about your day let alone wanting to imagine it in even more detail.

im going to hold out hope that maybe it turns around.... but honestly im so sick of these assholes.

at least i always have the first 25 chapters to reread that i can still enjoy. if anyone can tell me otherwise to any of the above i welcome it. i desperately wish i was wrong.

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 12

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Lila’s starting to fall, amazing what saving your classmates lives can do for their opinion of you

First < Previous > Next

------

Marinette furiously scrunches up another failed sketch. Using her non dominant hand to start another design. It's a good thing she doesn't have any upcoming commissions because of the tour. Even so the distraction, no matter how infuriating, beats watching Marion's ragged breaths.

Tikki is resting on his chest, something they had learnt helps them heal faster. This meant that Plagg was forced to sulk in the corner. Pretending to enjoy the cheese, sneaking worried looks at his holder.

“Marinette look!” Tikki squeaks, as she throws another sketch away.

Marion eyelids start to flutter, Marinette leans over him, sketchbook hitting the ground. He opens his eyes and groans before rolling to his side, followed by a hiss of pain.

“Stay still you stupid cat!” Marinette gently but firmly forces him to sit back.

“Not stupid,” Marion sleepily slurs, sinking into the hospital bed.

“Reckless then,” Marinette schools the smile off her face as Plagg zips over to him.

“No I’m not,” He glares with sudden clarity, “Day?”

She rolls her eyes standing to open the curtains.

“Why yes it is,” Marinette smirks as he cringes at the light.

“What day?” His cringe turns back to a glare, completely unintimidating with the small Kwami curled against him.

“Don’t worry, they put you under for the night, for your system to work out all the fear toxin,” Marinette closes the curtains slightly, coming to sit on the chair next to him.

“Akuma?” Marion tries to bring his hands up to pet Plagg,

“Nope, I finally got some rest without you,” Plagg huffs, not moving away from Marion's touch.

“Arm?” Marion turns to Marinette, still smothering Plagg.

“Fine, it’s probably mostly healed, clean break,” That was probably stretching it, but it doesn't make much difference.

“Scarecrow?” Marion's expression turns dark.

“Prison,” Marinette probably mirrors his expression.

“... anything else I need to know?” He asks, shifting a little higher.

“Still and idiot,” Marinette picks her sketchbook back up, smoothing out the pages.

“Well it's great to see you accepting your-”

“Marion! You're awake!” Aunt Selina is standing in the doorway, she covers the distance in the blink of an eye. Almost as fast as their Kwami’s manage to hide.

“-fault,” Marion glares over their Aunts shoulder at Marinette.

“What was that?” Selina leans back, a slight smirk.

“Nothing,” Marion doesn’t stop giving the stink eye.

“Are you ok?” Their Aunt asks, checking Marion over.

“Yeah I feel fine,” Marion pushes her away gently, but it’s enough for her to lean back. Looking over him with a more cool expression.

“Hmm… I suppose bullet proof armour under your clothes would lessen the damage,” She says casually.

“Well yeah obvious-” Marion starts, stopping as they both realise at the same time;

“It’s a fashion statement!”

“This is Gotham?”

Their Aunt raises a brow. Their panic, wide eyes and wild gestures obviously painting the picture of innocence.

“Alright then, I won't press, already told the doctors your parents are just paranoid,” She leans back on her arms propping her up on Marion’s bed.

“Maman! Papa! Are they-”

“It’s fine, I called them,” Selina holds up a hand to calm his outburst, “Convinced them not to ship you back to Paris, told them they had nothing to worry about,”

“Unfortunately that is a lie,” Bruce Wayne walks in, a pensive frown aimed at his fiance's casual shrug.

“Hello Mr Wayne,” Marinette greets formally, standing.

“Bruce, please, how are you two feeling?” He gestures Marinette to sit back down, standing by her chair.

“A-ok” Marion gives the thumbs up, far too quickly for someone with broken ribs, “Ow,”

“Don’t worry I checked with the doctors there's no brain damage this is just unfortunately how he usually is,” Marinette deadpans, hoping to ease his worry.

“I must apologise, I didn’t expect these rumours to get so out of hand,” Bruce's expression is twisted with guilt, as Marion slowly brings his arms back down.

“It’s not your fault, kind of strange they took that risk for a rumour,” Marion shrugs, not unlike how their Aunt did, who is now forcing him to lie back down.

“Not really considering you basically confirmed it,” Marinette rolls her eyes.

“I did no such thing,” Marion gasps dramatically as if she insulted his very honour. Something, in her opinion, he gave up a long time ago to make puns.

“Here,” Marinette brings out her phone, pulling up a clip from the previous morning. Fast forwarding to the part where Marion tells the camera; “Bruce Wayne is our Father,”

“Oh,” Marion blinks at the screen a few times before turning to Bruce, “I’d like the record to state that was taken out of context,”

“Doesn’t matter to the press, their vultures, the attack is all they care to talk about,” Aunt Selina spits venomously, eyes honing in on Marinette's cast.

“I’ve held off on making an official statement without your approval,” Bruce informs, undercurrents of anger almost undetectable, “If you’d like I can organise our lawyers to come visit you here,”

“Thank you, that would be great,” Marinette beams, taking him aback, “Or um, not great, but-uh… appreciated- yeah that,”

“I’ll send them over whenever suits you,” Bruce gives a slight smile back, making hers beam brighter.

“Thanks, wait a minute- how long am I going to be in the hospital!” Marion whips around to Marinette.

“Hopefully long enough to stay out of trouble,” Selina ruffles his hair, not that it makes much difference at this point.

“My whole life!?” Marion shouts, only half joking.

“Not if you don’t keep running into dangerous situations,” Selina retorts, booping his nose.

“Technically this one came running at me,” Marion grouches, entering a staring contest with their Aunt.

“Ah-ha,” She mocks, meeting his challenge, as always, winning.

“Sooo- what's everyone been doing,” Marion turns to Marinette, eyes only slightly watery.

“I basically had to push Kagami out of the hospital this morning to go on todays tour,” Marinette smiles, willing to give Marion this out, “Chloe texted me a bit ago saying they were heading here,”

“They’re going to kill me for almost getting killed, aren't they,” Marion whines, Marinette is sure he catches Bruce’s flinch.

“Yep,”

“Make sure my gravestone says ‘living it up’,” Marion says as seriously as, well, death.

“I’d rather throw your body in the river,” Marinette inspects her nails, leaning back in her seat.

“If I go missing tell Batman she's the primes suspect,” Marion turns to their Aunt, not learning his lesson, and pointing at Marinette with a hiss of pain.

“I will,” Selina chuckles, and Marinette swears she sees Bruce's lips quirk.

“Mari!” Chloe runs through the door in a blonde blur, which splits, and oh that's Adrien. Both basically tackle Marion.

“Ow! No! That is the opposite of making me feel better,” Marion curses, both latching on either side.

“Deal with it I saved your ass,” Chloe snaps, Marinette sees her grip loosen slightly.

“I thought that was Kagami?” Marion looks over at her, Kagami was standing inside the room, behind her waiting at the door stood the rest of the class, “Or at least a Yokai that looked like her,”

“Pssh, I helped too, I was Queen Bee after all,” Chloe sits up, flicking her hair out.

“Yeah with the train-” Marinette begins.

“Enough about the train!” Chloe explodes, releasing Marion.

“I think this is our cue to leave,” Their Aunt stands, leaning over Marion and giving his forehead kiss, “I love you two so much, be good my little adorable munchkins! I’ll be back later”

“I wuv you sooooo much too Aunty,” Marion teases her right back in an overly cutesy voice.

“You’re no fun,” She sighs, smirk still firmly in place, “See ya,”

She and Bruce walk out the door, class making way for them.

“You are sure you are quite alright,” Kagami comes to stand by the head of the bed, opposite side to Marinette.

“Yes Kags I’m fine,” Marion smiles brightly, still being smothered by Adrien.

“Good,” She hits him over the head, making him yelp, “That was well deserved,”

“Yeah, probably,” Marion grumbles, hand instinctively raising to his head, followed by a grimace.

“Come on Kagami he’s already been hurt enough,” Adrien frets over Marion, letting him go.

“Thank you Adrien! My one true friend! In my time of need, you're always there for me!” Marion bring his arms around Adrien, smothering the other.

“I fought Scarecrow for you!” Chloe roars, Adrien not trying to get free from Marion.

“Adrien was moral support,” Marion pouts, hugging him closer.

“You’re impossible,” Chloe throws her hands up, falling back on the bed.

“Why thank you,” Marion does a mock bow as much as he is able.

Someone clears their throat, Marinette looking over at the door. The rest of the class were still standing at the door. Alix holding up a bag of chips, awkwardly waving. Everyone else also holding some sort of snack, minus Lila. Marinette glances at Marion, who just shrugs, releasing Adrien.

“You can come in, but it might be a bit squished,” Marinette smiles amicably.

“That's fine, dude,” Nino smiles back, ushering the class inside.

The class all take their seats, most having to perch on armrests or the edge of the bed. Each dropping snacks at the foot of it.

“I meant what I said and won't take it back, we aren’t friends,” Marion fixes those in the class that apply with a stern look.

Marinette could tell he wasn't angry, but a few snacks was not enough to mend the bridges burnt. Marion won’t let them forget that. The class shifts awkwardly, sharing glances. What do you say to that?

“Then why did you protect us?” Kim speaks up, apparently that.

“Because it was the right thing to do,” Marion fixes them with an intense gaze, making it clear he meant every word. Alix clears her throat.

“Well then this is a meeting as a class, and a thanks for saving our butts, both of you,” Alix gives a smile from her perch on the bed railing.

“Alright then,” Marion says seriously, before taking on a joking tone, “Mostly cause I just realised I haven't eaten anything since that horrible cereal yesterday,”

“Hey!” Adrien exclaims, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Marion, Chloe squeezed in on Marion's other side. Both leaning off the edge slightly to not put pressure on his ribs.

“Sorry Adrien, but your taste buds have the intelligence of a two year old mistaking pure sugar as an actually good taste,” Marion sneers, as if he can still taste it.

“You’re a bakery snob, you know that?” Adrien grumbles, crossing his arms and sinking down further.

“Sure do,” Marion teases, the rest of the class shifting uncomfortably.

Marinette had to guess they didn’t realise just how far they had drifted apart, the divide now startlingly clear.

“Well hopefully these please your majesties pallet,” Nathaniel tries to break into the banter.

Marion playfully sneers down at the pile, getting a few giggles. Alix starts throwing snacks to everyone. Giving Marinette a bag of cookies, she can’t help but smile, especially at Marion's downright insulted look as he’s passed a wheel of camembert.

“Such peasant food,” He tries to offload the cheese on Adrien, who practically falls off the bed to avoid it.

“That's ok, Lila said she was bringing a specially prepared dish by the top chef of the most popular restaurant in Gotham,” Rose squeals excitedly, unintentionally running both their moods.

“I did but just outside the hospital was a poor, sick, homeless man, he begged me for any food I had," translated from Lila speak roughly means; I ate it, "I thought Marion would understand that some people actually needed food enough to not turn the nose up at anything,”

The class gives their assurance and praise. Marion's eyes narrow, unwrapping the cheese and just straight up taking a bite. Marinette spots Plagg being held back by Klakki and Tikki, hiding behind their bags. He chews on it bitterly downright glaring at Lila.

“Dude you were totally badass!” Nino breaks into Marion's brooding.

“Was I? Everything's kinda a blur, especially after the fear toxin,” Marion directs Nino's attention elsewhere, dropping the wheel of cheese off the edge of the bed, into Plaggs waiting arms.

“You were so cool, it was all bam! and swoop!” Kim stands up, badly reenacting punching the air.

“Ah yes, that clears it up, thank you,” Marion says sarcastically, letting Adrien pass him a bag of chips to drown out the taste of camembert.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Alix leans forward, interest sparking in her eyes.

“Ah- Maman taught us of course,” Marinette answers, it was sort of true.

“She can be scary,” Kim shivers, having a selection of memories to choose from.

“Bring her to Gotham, we wouldn’t have problems like this anymore,” Nino lightly pouches Adrien's shoulder in place of Marion, leaning against the wall next to them.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she was Ladybug,” Chloe muses, well they were both people she truly respected.

“Haha… yeah,” Marinette sweat drops, trying(and failing) to look unfazed.

“I have to say,” No you really don’t Lila, “I was surprised to see you two fight, you usually just up and run away whenever there's an Akuma attack, I guess you had no choice but to act brave this time,”

“They’ve helped out plenty of times during Akuma attacks,” Nino looks puzzled, oblivious to Lila's glowering.

“Yeah didn’t we tell you about how Marinette became class president?” Mylene asks, eating a snack that was probably organic contrast to the sugary monstrosities before them.

“Oh of course, but if they could fight this well all this time then they should be helping Ladybug and Chat Noir, god knows they need it,” Lila’s malice hinting at her own mention of the heroes.

“Nah, the dudes can handle themselves, it’s better not to get in their way,” Nino shrugs, hitting himself in the face with a snack he was trying to catch.

“Well unless they ask,” No one else catches the moment realisation(scheming) crosses Lila’s face “And I know for a fact Ladybug did,”

“Really!” Alya turns to Lila before whirling around to Marinette.

“Um, yeah! Ladybug once asked me to be Multimouse, to help beat Kwami buster,” Marinette answers before Alya can take out her phone.

“That is so cool! Why didn’t you tell me!” Alya’s enthusiasm is not nearly as potent as Lila’s malice.

“Because she asked me not to tell, but if Lila is going to tell everyone anyway there isn’t much point,” Marinette shrugs, her brother hiding a grin, Lila started this war but she could win this battle. “Marion saw me detransform so Ladybug can’t give me a miraculous ever again,”

“Well no wonder she chose you, you were so brave and cool, you were beating Scarecrow with a broken arm, even before Batman showed up!” Nathaniel speaks up, always the fan of superheroes.

“Didn’t he seem rather mad at you?” Lila asks(not so) innocently. ‘Wow she's really giving this her all’ Marinette muses, trying even when they are put in the hospital.

“I think it was likely aimed more at the guy holding us hostage,” Max states like a fact, slightly condescending.

“Of course, but it would have never happened if they didn’t spread the rumour in the first place,” Lila pushes as if they need a reminder.

“Uh, Lila I don’t think they did,” Rose says sweetly, pink frosting somehow ends up on her nose.

“What!” Lila snaps, making poor Rose jump, and others look surprised.

“Well they said they didn't, and Marinette's really smart,” Juleka mumbles, glaring at Lila.

“Hey!” Marion exclaims, getting a giggle from Rose.

“And Marion!” Juleka quickly amends.

“Now you just sound insincere,” Marion slouches down, sniffing theatrically. Juleka relaxes as Chloe teasingly patronises him in her own loving way.

“Something like that is really dangerous,” Mylene tells Lila gently. As if trying to explain to a child what they did wrong.

“No one would wish it on themselves,” Ivan backs up his girlfriend. Lila clearly looking for an opening to try and gain the advantage back.

“Marion almost died,” Kim says bluntly, honestly.

There is a long silence. They were all thinking it but none dared speak it. Even Lila lets the silence loom, nothing she could say would make them look worse and her better.

“So… what did you all do today?” Marinette tries to cut the uneasy silence.

“We went to the city library,” She of course knew that.

“That reminds me, I got out some books I thought you’d like, since your stuck in bed and everything,” Nino passes a book to each twin.

“Thanks,” Marion lets Adrien take the book for him, leaning over to look at the cover Marinette couldn’t see.

“Oh actually I did too!” Rose reaches into her pink bag.

“Me too,” Alix laughs, passing Marinette a history book.

Then everyone else reaches into their bags pulling out more books, giggling sheepishly.

“Oh no, I am going to be here forever aren’t I?” Marion stares in dismay at the accumulated pile, flopping miserably against Adrien.

“We’ll try our best,” Adrien promises, patting his head.

“Selina, do you want to explain to me why your Nephew was able to go toe to toe with Scarecrow, while under fear toxin,” Bruce asks in his, I already know the answer but for some reason I want you to say it, tone. Not even a minute after talking with the doctor.

“Do you want to explain to me how neither you or Robin realised he was under fear of toxin?” She deflects, heels clicking down the halls quickly.

“I believe this circles back to how he can operate under fear toxin,” Bruce growls.

“I don’t know Bruce!” She explodes, more dramatically to get him to drop it, but none the less true, “I taught them a thing or two sure! Some martial arts, parkour, stealing under the guise of magic!”

“What was that last one?” He asks, stopping.

“Not important!” She snaps, continuing on her rant, turning fully towards him, “But I never thought they could do something like that! How and why are they acting like it’s no big deal!”

“Selina, it’s ok,” He pulls her into a hug. She lets her lips curl slightly, that might be the quickest she’s been able to end an argument, short of jumping off a roof. “I’ll find out,”

“... They’re too much like you Bruce,” Selina leans into her fiance's chest, she could swear everyday the children looked more like him.

“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, obliviously.

“In this case? It's dangerous,” She answers honestly, pausing before stepping back, “I need to call their parents,”

He nods, giving a chaste kiss before leaving her alone in the hall. She sits down, staring down at her phone for a long time.

“Aunt Selina?” Her chest twists painfully.

“Whats up Kitten, where are your friends,” She smiles at her so-called Niece, a word she avoided like the plague. That is to say, she tries but there's always a rat around to ruin everything.

“Oh I told them I had to go to the bathroom,” Marinette's bright smile betraying her.

“But,” Selina prompts as Marinette sits next to her.

“I’m actually celebrating,” She practically squeals.

“Why's that?” She asks, amused and warmed by her daughter's excitement.

“The kingdoms crashing down and the queens still inside,” Marinette says in a sing song voice.

“Should I be worried you sound so joyful?” Not that she actually would be.

“It’s a wicked Queen who abuses her power and makes her subjects miserable,” It’s teasing, but there is nothing artificial about the words.

“Party away,” Selina leans back, flipping her wrist.

“Knew you’d understand,” Marinette hugs her, letting her lean into it.

“I’ll always be here for you Kitten,” Selina brushes the hair out of her daughters face, “Now go, you don’t want to miss the show,”

Her smile is nothing compared to the one plastered on Marinette's face as she bounces away with a small wave. With a sigh Selina leans back, staring down at her phone. It could’ve been minutes, it could of been hours, but she hits call eventually.

“Hey there,” She greets, betraying nothing about the conversation to come. “Just wanted to let you know Marion is awake, just as sassy as usual,”

“Sassy, I just beat you at mecha strike three? Or you started the banter and he’s just matching you,” Tom asks, dusting flour off his hands as Sabine holds the phone.

“Brother dearest, how little do you think of me?” She asks in mock hurt, Tom raises an eyebrow, “Great, thanks,”

“Do you think we can call them?” Sabine asks.

“They’re with their friends right now so I wouldn’t, I think this has been a long time coming,” She thinks back to what Marinette said, the rude girl from their reunion at the Wayne tower coming to mind, “And it's not the only thing... look, I lied,”

“The shock of the century,”

“Tom!” Sabine swats at her husband, from past sparring matches with Sabine she knows she can do a lot worse.

“No, no he’s right, as much as it pains me to say it,” She sneers playfully at her brother, getting one in return. She hesitate before sharing, “The twins were actually specifically attacked by Scarecrow,”

“Why!?” They both burst out.

“Because everyone thinks Bruce Wayne is their Father…” Selina cringes at their surprised expressions, which are about to get a lot worse. “And their right,”

“I thought you didn’t know the Father?” Tom asks after a long pause, not accusingly but eerily calm.

“... I lied,” She shrugs, letting the awkwardness she usually keeps leashed leak through. Gina had practically raised them together, he knows how to see right through her better than most.

“This might actually be the shock of the century,” Tom nods, he doesn't seem mad, great thing about him reading her it works both ways.

“... Yeah,” She shrugs, letting the silence hang, long enough for them to process.

“You should tell them,” Sabine declares, so much assurance in such a small woman.

“What!” Selina stands in shock, making jerking gestures, “Sabine that not what I-”

“Hush now, let me speak,” Sabine chides, actually making her pause, “We will always be their parents, but that's only because of you,”

Selina goes to argue, but a stern glare is all the discouragement she needs. Tom is nodding along, of course! They’ve probably discussed this before

“It’s only right that you don’t have to look in pain every time they call you Aunt,” Apparently she was able to read Selina just as well as her husband,  “It’s your choice, but they have enough love in their heart for more than just us,”  

She tries, dammit she tries, but it’s not enough to stop the flood of emotions manifesting in tears.

[link4eva]

Kiro’s R&S: Bystanders (Chapters 33-34) Translation [CN]

Hi, y’all! Just a couple of quick notes before you begin reading...

This R&S translation contains spoilers from the CN server for Chapters 33-34 which have not yet been released in the ENG server. So if you don’t wish to be spoiled then please don’t look below the cut! 

The next thing is that I don’t actually know any Chinese myself so this translation was done through the power of Google Translate and with a huge help from the lovely @keliosyfan​ . Thanks so much!! 

Hope you enjoy!~

No matter how the outside world changes, his heart is as pure as always.

[Chapter 1]

That experimental kid.

This is Hephaistos’ first impression of the new Helios.

He first saw this kid, not at the headquarters, but on the TV on the side of the road.

A blonde young man, with a soft smile within his blue eyes, sang a song in English on stage. The camera turned away from the stage. Fans screamed and waved light sticks frantically, the directors and judges on the side were all intoxicated.

Passers-by, who were attracted by the youth’s singing, gathered in front of the TV, obsessively looking at the shining star on the screen.

Only Hephaistos in the crowd stood by with cold eyes. He clearly understands the hypocritical admiration in front of him and what kind of fanatic power he will eventually integrate into his plan. This is the purpose of BLACK SWAN; to promote the symbol of “Kiro” to the public.

What’s so good about this kid’s singing performance? Hephaistos huffed and left uninterestedly.

But that impression would soon be overturned.

The dark alleys are not easy to navigate after the rain. The muddy water and blood mix together to form shallow puddles. Each footstep produces a sticky sound. Hephaistos ordered his men to clean up the mess. He looked to find the silver-haired young man walking out of the shadows and greeted him, “It’s done?”

Helios took a USB flash drive from his pocket and threw it to him: “It’s all here.”

“The new Helios’ methods are much more straightforward than I thought.” Hephaistos looked at the humble gadget in his hand, “It seems that working with you in the future should be easy.”

He stretched out his hand to Helios: “It seems I have forgotten to introduce myself. I am Hephaistos, but you’d better not call me by this name. It’s too confusing, and I’m not used to it.”

Helios glanced at the dark-skinned man in front of him. The other party showed him a friendly smile, but his gaze in the nightlight looked like a falcon locked onto its prey, making his nerves instinctively go on high alert.

He nodded but didn’t hold Hephaistos’ hand back: “There’s blood on my hand. Makes it inconvenient.”

Hephaistos expressed his understanding and stepped to the side: “Are you coming back with me to headquarters now?” 

“There’s something else.” Helios obviously didn’t intend to talk to him more, so he left.

Seeing Helios walking away, Hephaistos said: “I’ve heard your song.”

Helios paused and turned his head.

“Although I don’t have much appreciation for music, I still think it’s a good song.” Hephaistos lips formed a slightly playful smile. “Just thinking of someone who can write such sunny and gentle lyrics who is capable of creating such horror in a blink of an eye. I can’t help but feel goosebumps.”

Helios’ expression remained the same: “Are you done talking nonsense?”

“Is this really nonsense? I just thought I’d remind you,” Hephaistos gave a step back. “Since you have returned to the dark, don’t think of the light anymore.”

When Helios heard this statement, his gaze dropped slightly. When he raised it again, his golden pupils were sharp as blades, and they passed the corner of Hephaistos’ crooked smile. However, the murderous intent was taken back by him in an instant.

“Then, let me remind you. Before reminding me, do your own thing first.”

“Of course I will do my own thing.” Hephaistos held the USB up to him, “Don’t worry. You and I are in the same group.”

Helios didn’t respond to this “companion” who suddenly showed up. He didn’t look back at Hephaistos as he turned and left the dark alley. 

“Brat.” Hephaistos clicked his tongue. He added an attribute to his previous impression of Helios in his mind.

The experimental kid that is difficult to deal with.

[Chapter 2]

Hephaistos never felt that BLACK SWAN was set in stone. Just 17 years before, there was a rift in the organization and the eventual addition of Ares and Hades was the fuse that completely detonated the rift.

Although BLACK SWAN did not appear to have any anomalies on the surface, the undercurrent surging underneath the surface had long been divided into two streams by an invisible boulder, both heading towards different goals.

When Hephaistos stood in front of the diverging boulder, he didn’t take much time to think before choosing his own direction. After all, compared with Hades’s paranoia, another “new world” was attractive to him.

Even if his companion was the experimental kid who is difficult to deal with. 

Helios had settled into the organization earlier than him. As one of the main members of the plan, his influence became more and more prominent. The identity of “Kiro” was already a burden to him. Throwing it in the trash is one thing but the reality is another.

A Lincoln slowly drove out of the hall, flanked by crowds. In the crowds, everyone was blurred by the drizzling rain. Only the swinging flashlights in their hands were visible in the night.

“WE LOVE KIRO” *Made some word changes here* Hephaistos glanced out the window and said, “I didn’t understand you at your comeback concert before. Anyway, it was just a farce made by Anole to solve his problem. That’s it, there’s no need to re-enter the stage-life at all.”

Kiro’s comeback to the entertainment world is a major event. It caused a lot of waves and rippled even in BLACK SWAN. But, given that Helios himself has always been a maverick and is now the leader of the organization, everyone only dared to talk secretly. However, Hephaistos is different. He and Helios have had a cooperative relationship from the beginning. Even before the two met, Hephaistos would’ve been happy to dance on Helios’ minefield of a temper.

“Or, did you come back because you still want to enjoy being a big star? Is it fun for you to watch those young girls scream for you?” 

“Shut up.” The man who was still smiling at the fans with an angelic smile was expressionless at this moment. When he heard this sentence, he did not raise his head and continued to tap the keyboard with his fingers.

“Ah, I understand.” Hephaistos suddenly thought of something and grinned. “You are all about that girl.”

Tap.

The crisp sound of the pressing of the ENTER key drowned out all the other sounds in the car cabin.

Helios looked at the calculation results displayed on the screen, his eyes dimmed: “I have my own considerations, and I don’t need others to interfere.”

“I’m not interfering. I’m just making small talk. I was bored anyway.” Hephaistos turned the steering wheel and drove steadily down the road. “Besides, I have to thank you for being “Kiro”, because otherwise, it would have been difficult for us to get an invitation for this banquet.”

Helios didn’t say anything. He quietly looked out the car window. A drizzle of rain ran across the glass, splitting his reflection in the window into countless fragments. At that moment, he no longer seemed to be a “Helios” nor a “Kiro”.

The two were silent for the rest of the way until the towering banquet building finally appeared in the night; like a dormant beast waiting for its prey to mindlessly walk into its trap. Helios just said in a low voice: “Since I’m going to act low-key this time, I can go in alone. You can station yourself outside.”

“No problem.” Hephaistos reminded Helios, “Leto’s tricks up his sleeve are almost all gone. It’s no surprise that this kind of madman will attempt anything at this banquet. Since you are going to bring QUEEN into this banquet, you must get her and bring her out.”

“Of course I will bring her out,” Helios replied, “As you said, everything we do is for the New World. In the New World Project, QUEEN is indispensable.” 

Hephaistos smiled: “It is all for the New World….right?” He pressed the pedal, “The time is near. Go. Don’t let your little dance partner wait for you any longer.”

[Chapter 3]

The rain has stopped.

15 minutes have passed since Helios and QUEEN entered the lobby. However, fans and reporters crowded around and were not willing to disperse anytime soon. Hephaistos, who had not received his next command, continued to hide in the crowd and wait. From time to time, one or two conversations of passers-by floated in his ears, nothing more than that surrounding the dazzling star and his dancing partner.

“Unfortunately I couldn’t see what it looked like….”

“I seem to have taken a picture but something was blocking the view.”

“I really want to be Kiro’s dance partner too!” 

Hephaistos raised the corners of his lips slightly. In the hall, everyone was so occupied with the scene in front of them, paying no mind to the trivial things in the outside world. Hephaistos didn’t know whether to think it ridiculous or sad. As he was looking around, there was a sudden scream coming from the door! *Took some liberties in translation here*

“What’s the matter?”

“What happened?!”

The reporters outside wanted to rush into the hall that was now filled with the scent of blood but were stopped by a line of uniforms that appeared out of nowhere. The perimeter of the building was quickly sealed off. A siege launched inward in an orderly fashion.

“Are the people from NW here too?” Hephaistos asked and a brief command came from his headset: “Leto has acted.”

“Can you handle it?”

“I was slightly delayed by Anole’s trick.” Helios’ sounded slightly out of breath, presumably because he was running, “He shifted into Leto’s form and garnered everyone’s attention. You don’t have to worry about the situation inside. Just wait outside.”

“No problem.” Hephaistos could faintly hear the screams from both his headset and from the inside. It was obvious that the situation inside was not as relaxed as Helios stated it to be. He stepped back slowly and informed Helios: “Right. People from the NW. Moving in soon.”

“....”

“You know?” Hephaistos was surprised for a moment but he also quickly figured it out. If Leto is gone, NW and the Task Force will naturally have to draw a clear line with the loser.

Everyone is in this melee, fighting for their own agendas. He is just a bystander in all this.

Hephaistos took advantage of the commotion and disappeared into the crowd.

Hephaistos didn’t wait long at the agreed pick-up location before he saw Helios walking over from the woods.

He is no longer the blonde he was when he was inside. His silver hair is sprinkled with star-dust like shimmer in the moonlight. It almost seems ethereal. The dried blood on his cheeks was the only indicator that he was in fact not an elven prince who came from the moon but rather a Shura* who had just returned from purgatory.

*Note about Shura from @keliosyfan​* 

The Shura that is mentioned is talking about the Buddhism demigod of war Asura. In Japanese, it's used to describe a person who has to fight an endless war against something in a relentless or inhumane manner. Hephaistos was making a comparison between how Helios (as blonde kiro) went into the banquet all nicely dressed and clean like an elven prince from the moon and then later came out with blood on his face (silver-haired Helios) as if he just fought some bloody battle which he probably did.

Continue

“Nailed it?”

“Leto escaped but he can’t go far.” Helios said faintly, “There is no way he can escape the dog.”

“Yeah. The rest is for the Task Force and they will have a headache. As long as our goal is achieved.” 

Hephaistos asked, “Where is QUEEN?”

“Sent her back.” Helios pondered for a while and decided to share some more information.

“After her Evol was retrieved, her strength became even more powerful and there was not much time left for us.” 

“I understand.” Hephaistos opened the door and motioned Helios to get in.

“Where to next?”

“Go to the temporary headquarters.”

After speaking, Helios climbed into the car. As he passed Hephaistos, Hephaistos suddenly noticed that the rain had stopped a while ago but Helios had water stains on his shoulders.

That seems to be….tears?

[Chapter 4]

The description of the bereaved dog is a bit too good. Under the first-hand news report of QUEEN and the live video uploaded by KEY, Leto’s true face was thoroughly exposed to the public’s eyes. As this is such sensational news, BLACK SWAN was naturally made aware of it.

At this time, many members of BLACK SWAN are on standby in the temporary base. Although they are scattered apart, the center of the crowd is still the young silver-haired man. It seems that wherever he is, he will be the most eye-catching light.

“I just got three pieces of news. One good, one bad, and one really bad. Which one do you want to hear first?”

“Say it if you want to, or shut up if you don’t.”

Hephaistos leaned against the wall and tsked boringly: “Then tell me the good news first. Artemis was also in the banquet hall at the time and was injured.”

Hearing that the members of the same group were injured, Helios didn’t even flinch: “Her life and death have nothing to do with us.”

“That’s true. As for the good news and the bad news, I’ll talk about them at the same time. The good news is that the Special Task Force has surrounded the orphanage. No matter how hard Leto struggles, he’s already dying. The really bad news is that even if he is dying, a dying beast may still be able to bite when crazy. He has threatened to kill all the kidnapped orphans if QUEEN won’t go to speak to him unaccompanied.” Hephaistos said this and paused deliberately.

“Don’t you worry about QUEEN?” 

When he heard the word QUEEN, Helios’ icy appearance seemed to thaw slightly before it quickly froze once more. After a moment of silence, he replied briefly: “I believe in her.”

“Believe in her?” Hephaistos thoughtfully said, “Indeed, if you don’t believe in her, there will be no way to continue.”

He didn’t say anything. Now that QUEEN’s ability has been recovered, this is also an excellent opportunity to observe how much her power can grow.

Hephaistos glanced at a huge device placed behind him. Its shape stood out from the dark environment that it was in. If Hades’s “Return to Zero Plan” was his answer sheet, then this device is of their faction. 

Hephaistos asked in a low voice, “When will our next step begin?”

“The next step is to be done by someone else.”

“Someone else? Is it me? I’m not good at this high-precision work.”

“Of course it’s not you.” Helios glanced at the time. “He’s almost there.”

Ten minutes later, the man Helios had in mind pushed the door open.

Hephaistos didn’t expect to see Ares, the traitor of BLACK SWAN, at the temporary base. He was astonished like everyone else for a moment. When he saw Helios’ unsurprising expression, he quickly calmed down.

Helios said that the person who will take over this next step is actually Ares? In other words, the two of them had been conspiring since a long time ago. He should’ve known sooner.

He even suspected that maybe Ares’ “rebellion” was also the plan made by these two.

Hephaistos looked at the man in black who had walked up to Helios step by step, his palms involuntarily started to sweat. He couldn’t help the way the corners of his mouth rose.

Forget it. No matter what these two have in mind, as long as the goal is achieved, he didn’t care that Ares had returned once more.

After thinking about all of this, he coughed slightly and expressed his greeting first: “Ares, welcome back.”

[Chapter 5]

Leto disappeared. Hephaistos was a little surprised when he heard the news and felt it was reasonable.

As a member of the New World Project, he firmly believes that the power of QUEEN is the key to opening everything. No one can predict how huge a door this key can open and what kind of world will be behind that door. Leto’s disappearance is nothing more than a small experiment to test the power of QUEEN. When her power really breaks through, it will be….

Hephaistos turned his gaze back to his hand holding a photo.

Originally, he did a little research out of curiosity about that girl. He didn’t expect the results of his investigation to be so interesting.

The picture shows a couple embracing each other. Except for the man’s eye-catching silver hair, the two are no different from any other couple in the streets. The girl raised her face slightly, with a bright smile, while the man’s eyes were filled with indefinable affection. It was definitely not the expression that someone monitoring QUEEN should have. It was not for show but rather pure love straight from the heart. 

Even Hephaistos, an outsider, can see the attraction and bond between the two.

“So,” Hephaistos whispered, “No wonder you didn’t let me be nosy at the amusement park. No wonder you insisted on taking her in during the banquet. And no wonder you would be so confident in her.”

Hephaistos once thought that loneliness was the true face of Helios, and the sunny “Kiro” on the screen was a mask he wore. But the soft murmur of the silver-haired youth in the car on the day of the banquet, the tears on his shoulders, and the photo in his hand completely broke this perception.

It seems that his impression of Helios can be rewritten again.

Hephaistos felt that until the arrival of the New World, he could use this observation as a leisurely pastime, adding a little bit of fun to being a bystander.

Even if you are in a chess game.

Plunk.

A soft sound from the device behind him interrupted Hephaistos’ thoughts. He walked towards the device and the flickering signal jumped between his pupils. For a while, he truncated through these light spots and saw the endless world.

Hephaistos smiled to himself.

Forget it. No matter what kind of lingering past, what kind of feelings, bond or obsessions Helios and QUEEN have, they will be crushed by the New World the moment they face the end of truth and evolution.

“This is real romance.” Hephaistos sighed and lit the photo without resignation, and threw it in the trash can.

[END]