#like surface level it mostly seems normal in that department i never really see people go ''wow i hate fat people''

[sonknuxadow]

"they should give jim carrey a fat suit in the next sonic movie to complete his transformation into eggman" actually they should have just cast a fat actor to begin with i think. also its kind of fucked up that you only want him to be fat Now to show that hes "more unhinged" or whatever. Peace and love

[fragileizywriting]

C'est la Sea

pairing: Luka / Marinette word count: 9,111 chapter: 1/2 rating: E summary: There’s a mermaid in his bed. A pouty, pretty mermaid on his bed. “Why are you wrapped up like a sushi roll, sweetheart?” “It’s cold,” Marinette shivers, just to prove her point. She collects an edge of the blanket to cover herself back up and make a bigger mess out of the covers, trying to tuck in her tail. “Why is it colder on land than it is on sea? How are you able to withstand this much frost, Luka? Even my scales are starting to go stiff.”

AO3 | Chapter One | Chapter Two

I just can't stop myself from writing Lukanette...

Written for my lovely and beautiful friend @valiantlyjollynightmare !!! Your mermaid AU is so wonderfully written and it gives me so many feels that I had to get the mermaid fever out. Please enjoy!!!

Life is simple and stagnant on land and it goes like this.

Wake up. Put on clothes. Find breakfast somewhere in the tiniest kitchen he’s ever been a witness to. It’s compact to the point that it’s hysterical, and it would probably fit someone of normal size. She’d fit in the kitchen just nicely, because things are about her height and eye level, but he has to crouch in order to see inside the fridge. Why are things so small?

Either way, after breakfast he leaves the house and goes to class.

And the classes are mind-numbing, and repetitive, and after the longest chapter of marine ichthyology he almost sleeps through, he’s on his way to find his friends. He’s made a couple of friends for the few months he’s been around, and tries to socialize with them after most of his morning classes have finished, and attempts to enjoy their company before the second block of afternoon classes happen. His friends are kind, and also in the same field as him, so they’ve mostly come close out of the nature of being in mutual classes, but they’re not anyone he’s really gotten close to.

So he’ll eat lunch with them, at some point. Start his next block of classes, and try his best not to roll his eyes at the casual inconsistencies referenced in the slideshow. Find his friends again, if any are available after class, and eat dinner at some point. Walk home, and politely decline any and all attempts to hang out after they’re finally done for the day— after all, everyone knows that he’s extremely busy studying for his classes.

They ask about her often, ask if he’ll be going to visit her for whatever break they have that gives them a sliver of days between classes, asking for pictures of her and well wishes. They ask about her students, ask if she’ll be getting anything for teacher appreciation week that’s common in Canada, and ask about how his life and family are back there before he transferred.

He makes up lies as he goes, of course, because he’s never actually been to Canada and certainly has never been to Quebec, but it seems to be working. His vague knowledge about the West Atlantic works in his favor because none of his classmates are from there, nor have they ever gone themselves. His friends mean well, knowing the feeling of longing when it comes to missing another person, and always offer condolences to the transfer student who seems to be a fish out of water in a new country with a funny Canadian accent, but they aren’t aware of the true nature of his relationship with her.

They know that he’s married. Human customs are similar to his, and the gold band on his left ring finger is a clear sign. Some people he’s met over the past couple of months have shied away and lost interest in him when they’d looked down to see that he never takes the ring off— he doesn’t hold it against them. His friends speculate about how she manages to handle the long-distance without him, but they have no idea just how hard it actually is.

Because they don’t know about the bond fever.

The fever that makes it harder and harder to breathe without her.

Every moment not thinking of her is just a distraction. Every moment not being next to her is biding time. Food tastes bland, music sounds wonky, and all his body wants to do is move. Staying still will make him curl up and stagnate for the rest of his days, and if he wants to leave this part of his life as fast as possible, he can’t afford to stop moving.

So, he’ll arrive home after school, and check up on the coral and fish in his tank to see if everyone in there is fine and not having a turf war without his knowledge. He’ll attempt to have a conversation with his fish, and feed them until they complain, because he’s never gotten the hang of actually taking care of pets. He’ll spin his ouroboros as he continues to waffle between staying and powering through, or the second option of leaving everything behind and dropping everything in favor of her. Work out to get rid of feelings of loneliness— of this horrible, aching bond fever that grips his heart enough to squeeze and hurt and make him regret ever turning to the surface in the first place.

He’ll take the scenic route, along the shore, looking over the ocean he knows and loves dearly. The sun will set over the sea as he takes a break when the buildup of lactic acid in his body gets too painful. It’ll take him hours, probably, of hard running down by the water, but it’ll be enough to get him to stop thinking about her for even a smidge.

Take a shower, afterwards, and making absolute-positive sure that his ouroboros is safely and securely wrapped around his wrist, lest he loses his sea legs— and try to talk to his fish again to get a conversation. Try to finish his homework before passing out asleep on his bed.

Sometimes he remembers to pull the bedsheets up on him. But most of the time he falls asleep in whatever position he’s laid himself down onto the bed, waking up with his arms and legs facing all the wrong way and the alarm on his phone blaring at him to wake up. He wakes up stiff, and sore, but there’s barely any time to sit back and relax before his day starts all over again.

Rinse.

Wash.

Repeat.

Over and over until the days glaze and mesh in his head.

He’s tired— the fish are his only true company, for now, and they rarely talk to him unless they’re begging for food. Sometimes they have a conversation with him when he really gets personal and deep with them, but they don’t really offer much advice, other than the occasional idea to spice up his diet and take a new route to school.

There’s nothing that can get him out of this slump. Nothing above land, anyway. Some days, on the weekends when he has enough time to, he opens the windows that box his mattress as well as the windows in the living room, and lets the salty breeze fly in through the whole houseboat— indulges in the idea of being back home with her— before he begrudgingly faces back to the stacks and stacks of homework piled on his desk.

It’ll be worth it. Just a year and a half left. The ring on his finger is proof enough of that. The bond fever may hurt, and may try to push him to go home, but he knows that she’ll be upset with him if he doesn’t finish school. She’ll probably shove him back up here herself, with her pouting and determined face. She’s docile, but bull-headed, and sometimes the storms in her eyes are as terrifying as the sea he’s from, and he’s certain that she won’t be satisfied until he has that diploma in his hand.

So, he puts his bag down by the door, kicks off his shoes, deadbolts the door behind him, and goes hunting for anything in his fridge that is available. He’s hungry, and he’s far more metabolic in this form than in his normal one, something about being on land just makes him hungrier— and nothing is safe from him when it comes to food.

His houseboat is about the size of a clam, the kitchen itself smaller than a pearl, but the ceiling is tall enough so that he doesn’t have to keep his head down whenever he walks around, so he can’t exactly complain— even when he opens the door to his fridge the size of a child, there’s nothing but a lettuce head that is definitely more white than green, a small box of blueberries he buys every time he makes eye contact with it in the store and thinks of her, and his leftover carton of eggs. The box of blueberries is full, still, and he’s convinced that he leaves it in the fridge until it rots just in case she ends up showing up and wants her favorite food.

But…

Life is simple, and stagnant on land, and he’s forgotten to do groceries this week.

Rinse, wash, and repeat.

He makes quick work of making the saddest scrambled eggs he could possibly produce in his lifetime, using up all of the leftover eggs— six of them, and he won’t be able to regret the amount of food he’s eating until he wakes up tomorrow with absolutely nothing to eat— and proceeds to bin the shells immediately. He eats over the sink, a utensil in one hand and the handle of the pan in the other, spooning and chasing runny eggs into his mouth, barely paying attention to the flavor.

He’s famished. And it’s not like he’d even be able to taste the flavor, anyway, from how bad his heart hurts. Bond fever is a finicky thing.

At least he remembered to throw the eggshells away in the proper place, instead of letting them clog up the sink.

He’d compost them, if he had any plants to take care of— but that’s always been her department, not his. The walls of his one-bedroom one-bathroom boat are sparse and empty— simply just a bed with a comfortable duvet and blue sheets, his tank full of fish that don’t offer enough company, a desk with some shelves to study at, lined with textbooks, and a wobbly table to eat at. He’d splurged on the extra desk— he could’ve just used the eating table— but knew it was probably better to keep his school papers and food away from each other. Besides, the back left leg of the table definitely looks like it’s about to cave at any point. It’s why he’s started just eating standing up and over the sink.

But she would never let him live like this.

It’s a clean house, and everything has its place, but it’s barren. Almost as if he doesn’t really live here.

And to be honest, he doesn’t. Physically, he spends most of his time here, but— bond fever makes him completely and totally disoriented. Mentally and emotionally he is nowhere near land, but rather in her arms, away from this simple and bland house.

But if she were here… truly here, instead of a fleeting moment…

She would decorate the walls with paint. Put up shelves. Print out photos, and frame them, because she’s enamored with the idea of ink and stains and items that permanently stain other things. She’d taken up to painting quite well, the last time— buying a selection of beginner’s acrylic gouaches in many different colors, and had set to work painting for the first time in her life. The world had exploded onto the canvases. Boats, sunrises, shores from distant islands, a turbulent and salty sea— she’d painted like she was taking a photograph and was developing it right onto the canvas.

He wishes he had the paintings with him now. Anything and everything to keep him company— any remembrance of her is such a blessing. He’ll take it all, if he can. Somedays, the ring on his finger just isn’t enough to keep his heart from hurting. He’ll catch sight of a bolt of ruffled pink fabric in a store window that is so glossy and sheer and delicate that he’ll find himself spinning his ring nonstop, dreaming of being together with her again.

Just a year and a half…

She’d line the shelves with rocks. Trinkets. Keychains from cities they’d gone to together, braided knots, and beautiful jewelry. And how could he forget the plants upon plants she’d shove into every square inch of the place, to the point where the houseboat would be a living and breathing creature from all of the greenery? Sunflowers— peonies— roses— lilacs— geraniums— tulips— every flower she could possibly find at a flower shop would somehow make it onto a flat surface in the houseboat.

This houseboat is empty without her. He spins the ring on his finger, thinking to himself about her— wishing and longing to see her. Just a year and a half more. He can visit on holidays, if he can afford it— but this isn’t just for him. It’s for her, too.

He flicks the light on in his room after washing the dishes, in the process of taking off his shirt, getting ready to try talking to the fish today in the far corner, the furthest away from his full-sized mattress, before giving in to go on a run along the docks. He almost throws his shirt onto the bed— when— well.

That’s when he notices the mermaid on his bed.

The sleeping mermaid on his bed.

She’s dozing off— hidden under his blanket, the mass of blue covers pulled tight around her naked shoulders. One of her pale arms has escaped from the mess she’s made of the fabric, and it hangs off the bed— steam rising softly off of her skin like she’s slowly being cooked, matching ring glinting in the light of the lamp on his nightstand. His eyes widen at the sight of her— the slow and soft drag of her tail fins against the floor as she inhales and exhales, because even curled up she can’t fit all of her on the mattress. She’s never been considered large, not proportionately, but the tail fins are long and delicate, and the mattress is far too small to fit the both of them if he were in his normal form too.

Pink, shimmery and translucent fins flutter as if caught by a slow breeze— petal-like in shape and it always feels silky against his fingertips whenever he’s touched her in the past, and today it looks no different. He follows the line of her fins back up to her tail that disappears underneath the comfortable blanket, where she’s wrapped herself to keep warm from the stale and stagnant air that permeates the room. He’s always liked the temperature around him to be colder, because of how he grew up, but she’s never been able to handle the slight freeze unless she’s been charmed, the little reef-dweller. Either charmed or wrapped up so tightly around him in order to soak up his body heat, nearly squeezing him to death. He sleeps with an eel of a woman, whenever they’re together, completely and totally reluctant to ever let him go.

Like now.

She’s here.

Here.

Strangling the blanket around her shoulders to keep the cold away from her.

His heart squeezes, and he finds himself on his knees, not exactly kneeling on the mattress but rather the floor just in front of her— gently parting the blanket enough to locate her other arm. She hums at the back of her throat when the cold air reaches and pebbles her porcelain skin— face pinching softly at the cold— before she blinks awake when he whispers her name in order to rouse her.

He’s always loved her blue eyes. Especially when they look at him, shining and shimmering like diamonds. “Mmmm?”

“Hi,” He checks her ears for her own magical charm. They’re there, and safely secured on her ear lobes, two perfectly beautiful pink pearls. They had been wedding gifts to her from her job at the school, that many of the parents had chipped in to get her a charm that would be able to withstand long periods of time outside of the sea, and he’s never been so grateful as now to see her wear them. “How long have you been here for?”

She’s always been a slow riser when she wakes up, so the first few seconds of her being conscious again are routinely docile and sweet, and today is no different. Her face softens the moment she recognizes where she is and who she’s looking at, a certain sweetness in her eyes that makes his heart hurt. “Luka? Oh, oh— Luka—”

She latches onto him tightly, pulling him close by her arms around his neck and shoulders with a happy noise. She smells of the ocean, even though she’s dry— her soft black hair just as silky, and just as long as it’s always been. It spills between his fingers as he combs through it, almost liquid on the web of his fingers and down his wrist, and he spends a moment or two just basking in her warmth, basking in the way she sighs against him. She kisses the closest skin available to her, which seems to be his shoulder, his collarbone, his chest, and his bicep— smiling happily up at him when he pulls away enough to look at her in the eyes.

“Marinette— Marinette— I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Her eyes look glassy with tears. “Your fish told me you would be home later— why are you here so early? I thought I had time to surprise you and greet you at the door.”

“You must’ve slept for too long,” He noses at the shell of her ear. “This is about the time I get home every day. But little pearl, what are you doing here? Did you travel safely? Don’t get me wrong, please— I’m so thankful— but when did you show up? No injuries? It’s not a holiday at home, I don’t think, is it?”

“I’m okay. Everything’s okay. No one saw me, and no one tried fishing for me. I just couldn’t keep waiting for you to come back,” She hums. Marinette’s always been a singer, ever since they met for the first time. Always a tune in her voice, always singing and humming away like a never-ending record player. “I’ve missed you so much, Luka, you have no idea— so I just decided that today was enough waiting. I dropped everything off and told my parents that I needed to see you— you, my darling sky.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.” He kisses her. And then again. And then again. And again. He keeps doing it until it hurts to not breathe— but even then, he doesn’t really find the desire to pull away. After all, this is much easier than what he’s dealt with for the past year. “Every day, my heartache just keeps getting worse— this is horrible. How are we supposed to keep this up for another year?”

“And I thought the wedding would’ve been the hard part of all of this— turns out that the bond is just as real as they say.” She giggles as she pulls him closer. He leans over her, wrapping an arm around the smallest part of her waist, resting his open palm on her upper back to support her as he lays her back down. She’s handsy— he doesn’t blame her— brushing her fingertips on all the skin available to her, making an unsatisfied noise when she reaches his jeans. “Take these off?”

Ah. Lovely Marinette. Always so handsy and desperate for close contact— as if he’s any better. He hasn’t seen her in so long, he’s seconds from stopping the pleasantries and letting her know just how much he’s actually missed her. “But—”

“You’ve never been shy before.” She clicks her tongue with a silly little eye roll. She traces his tattoo on his arm, a small smile on her face, following the compass rose’s north tip up his arm. She makes it to the boat with seven sails, before looking up at him rather confused. “There’s nothing you haven’t already shown me— I’ve seen every single centimeter of you and every last scale. Unless— uhm— has something changed?”

“No, nothing has changed— relax that worry in your eyes.” He laughs, and can’t help himself when he kisses her again, slow enough to distract her as he pulls his jeans off, leaving his boxers behind. Her eyes blow wide at the sight of him naked, save for the jade ouroboros around his wrist and the band of his underwear. He hopes it isn’t inside out. “I just meant that I’ve barely been able to look at you, and I know you won’t let me go until it’s tomorrow if I let you have your way. You’re hidden underneath the blanket— let me look at you first before your tail disappears. Why are you wrapped up like a sushi roll, sweetheart?”

“It’s cold,” She shivers, just to prove her point, attempting to pull a fast one on him and reaching for the waistband of his boxers before he snags her wrist with a laugh. Thin and soft shoulders curl underneath his palms in an attempt to stop heat from escaping, and she collects an edge of the blanket to cover herself back up and make a bigger mess out of the covers, locks of her hair spilling over the blanket, pooling to where her waist should be. She tries to tuck in her tail with mixed results. “Why is it colder on land than it is on sea? How are you able to withstand this much frost, Luka? Even my scales are starting to go stiff.”

“Reef-dweller,” He grins.

“Yes, yes, continue to make fun of you poor wife who cannot contain heat because of biology. But you don’t have your scales on you right now, you sea serpent.” She pouts. “I should be much more suited for this cold than you should be, right now.”

He guides her burritoed form closer with a warm smile. Her fins flutter, delicate and sweet, as he pulls her close enough for her to rest part of her tail on his lap as he gently reaches for the edges of the blanket again. “It isn’t actually that cold. You’re just losing heat so you can get your sea legs, remember?”

“Unfortunately, I’m starting to remember the hard way. Stars, I keep forgetting how uncomfortable the transformation is. Maybe I’m doing it on purpose.”

“Let me see you,” He noses at her jawline.

“Only if you promise to warm me up after,” She teases, and she actually manages to snap his waistband against his hip, making him hiss at the sensation. She giggles, kicking up her tail delightfully at the noise he makes. “Please, sky?”

They’re politely ignoring the way he’s starting to fill out his underwear already at the sight of her. It’s instinctual, of course, because of bonds and magic and, well, it is Marinette that’s looking at him like she’s famished. “Of course. You don’t even have to ask.”

Steam billows from the opened pocket of the blanket the moment he unwraps her and finally takes a good look at her. Sweet stars, he’s missed her so much, and he shows her just how much by touching her everywhere. She shivers under his fingertips as he traces the small scales that line her chest and stomach. They’re starting to retreat and fade, now that the drying process is finishing up, but she’s still completely smooth and too scaled to have her human characteristics just yet.

“You’re shivering, my sweet pearl.”

“Yes, but— your hands are so warm,” She sighs.

There’s a gentle swell to her chest, hidden beneath the neat rows of hazy pink scales, but the swell isn’t as much as what she has in her human form. He’d learned early on, when they’d first tried their magic charms and had gained their sea legs, that he loves all versions of her body— including when her chest fills his palms with such softness he feels like weeping, with pink peaks that make her sing whenever he tweaks them. Everything about her is delicate, like the world’s most fragile flower.

But very soon, he’s going to end up with an entirely naked woman on his bed instead of a mermaid. Both are lovely ideas. He’ll be able to watch her wobble on her sea legs for an hour or two before she relearns her balance, and have to guide her by her naked hips if she wants to leave the room. She’ll probably want to stretch her legs, and take a turn about the very small boathouse, but they probably won’t be able to leave the house today. That look in her eyes is telling.

As if he’s any better.

He traces the rows of scales down her stomach, the scales getting thicker and larger as he reaches just about where her tail technically begins at the hips. Her arms, too, have patches of translucent pink scales that are starting to disappear in favor of just skin, and he follows the long line of her tail down with a palm.

He skirts over the area that he knows she so desperately wants to guide him to, gaining a brief huff and pout from her as he instead grazes along her scales all the way to her long and beautiful curtain fin. His touches are soft, and barely noticeable— but it’s enough to get her to twitch.

He starts to tickle her.

“Luka,” She slaps her tail on the mattress in an attempt to make him stop tickling her, and her hand grabs for his— but her laughter is so contagious he can hardly stand it himself. “What— ha— what are you— oh, stars— d-doing?”

“I haven’t seen my wife in almost a year,” He gives her a smile, laughing at the way she squirms uselessly under his hands. “Can I not touch her?”

“You can touch— but—” Such sweet laughter! “But why— oh! Why touch me there when I’m ticklish?”

“Oh? Would you rather me touch you higher?”

“Yes,” She giggles. “Oh, please, I know exactly where I’d like you to touch me. But buy me dinner first, at least.”

“I’ll do more than that, sweetheart.” He licks his lips, watching the way she shifts to prop herself on her elbows. She blows her bangs out of her face when it starts to fall across her lashes, looking at him with sparkling beautiful eyes. She’s so pretty. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all of that, but his love for her has never diminished in the first place. Sweet beautiful melody. “What is it that my lovely girl wants?”

“Hm…”

“Make it count, of course. Your tail is going to disappear soon.”

“How about: you tell me that you want me like this, sky,” She peeks at him from under her lashes.

He wants her in any form, this won’t be too hard. “I want you.”

She’s feeling cheeky, isn’t she? That smile is proof alone. “Tell me you need me.”

“As if I have to say that.” But she prods him with a cute pout when he rolls his eyes, and he acquiesces: “I need you.”

“Tell me you can’t live without me.”

“I’m miserable without you. So miserable.” He means it. And she knows it. “I don’t want to keep doing this long-distance anymore. I’ve never been so miserable.”

She tilts her head to the side with another hum, looking around the room. “Tell me you’ll let me decorate our home— it’s so bland in here. Where are all the flowers? The music?”

“Please decorate—” His brain flatlines. “Wait, decorate? This house? This— our— house? Home?”

“Surprise!” Another peal of laughter escapes from her, and it follows through her body to a delicate flick of her tail.

His eyes widen. “You— you’re staying?”

“Yes!” She nods, shimmying on her elbows as she grins. “Yes yes yes!”

“But— Marinette— you—” Sweet stars, she’s staying. She’s staying. How could he ever want her to go? The love of his life, the jewel in his heart, and his wife— staying for longer than a few fleeting moments when she can afford to slip away from home? Oh— oh— his heart could burst.

“I can’t stay away from you.” She confesses, cupping his hand and kissing the gold band on his finger. She balances her upper weight on her other elbow, but doesn’t seem to struggle under her own weight. “I’m tired of being away. The bond is making me miserable, Luka, and I’ve had just about enough of it. So, I decided to make it easy on the both of us.”

“But—”

She winks. “I know.”

“And—”

“Yes, that too.”

“Also, your job—”

“I know,” Her laughter is so sweet. He can’t even finish his sentences without her answering as if they’re on the same wavelength— oh— he’s missed this woman so much. “I know, sky. I know. But all of it will be there still when we go back next year. My students won’t go to the next teacher until five years from now. I’ve already talked to the other teachers about me disappearing off with you for a year.”

She… she would really be willing to give up everything, just like that, just for him? Her students, her daily work, her desire to teach? Her desire to nurture? All of it, just to be with him? “I can’t do that to you, little pearl. I know how important your students are to you— I can’t ask you to stay away from them. Maybe I should just go home with you, instead.”

“Luka, honestly! You’re not doing this to me, I want to stay with you— and you better finish this degree of yours. You’ve worked too hard! You know why I couldn’t come with you in the first place, but a year has changed and things are better now, my parents got help from a new family that’s moved into the reef. We can afford a year away from home now, my sweet. A real year away. You know I get one year off to stay with my bond.”

“But that was only as soon as you get married— that was, sweet stars— it was eleven months ago.”

“And I never used it,” She informs him, as if he hadn’t also spent the last year lonely and miserable. “So it’s still viable. I told you, I already talked to the other teachers.”

“But our family—”

“—is completely and totally better off without me constantly sighing in their ears.” She shrugs with a soft smile. It’s a little difficult, given that she’s still propped up on her elbows, but she makes it work. “If I touched my ring one more time in front of my mother, she would’ve personally pushed me out of the ocean herself. Not to mention your mother, telling me that ‘it’s not good to leave your bond alone, lassie. Bonds need to be cultivated, lassie’. Two mothers pushing me up onto the docks, telling me to sleep easy for at least one night. Better me than your mother dragging you back home to deal with me and my nightmares.”

She looks thin. Thinner than usual for springtime, and her face definitely looks a little darker than usual. His poor Marinette, how could he have done this to her? But it’s not like he isn’t affected in the same way, either… all of those nightmares and dull days, wishing to see and hold her. “Have you been eating? You’re looking thin.”

Perhaps they shouldn’t keep trying to test the universal truths with their bond. They really need that year together, don’t they?

“Me? You look thin, Luka.” There’s a frown making its way to the edges of her lips. “Is there not enough food for you? When was the last time you ate?”

“Tuttering pearl,” He murmurs. “Always worrying about me.”

“With good reason to,” She pouts. “Of course I worry about you, sky. What kind of spouse would I be if I didn’t ask my husband if he’s okay? Not a very good one, right?”

“I’ve been eating okay. I eat more in this form.”

“You look pale, my sweet.”

“You’re not the only one who’s been having trouble,” He admits. “Life has been so stagnant without you that I’m kind of just running like a machine. The days are all a blur, and it’s gotten to where I don’t even remember days unless I have a test or homework due that day. I already knew that university was miserable, but— ah, little pearl— don’t cry. It’s alright.”

Marinette’s going to burst into tears. “How stupid of me, leaving you alone.”

“No, sweetheart. You didn’t leave me alone.”

“You’re not as healthy as you usually are,” She hushes a bit when he kisses her, but it’s not enough. “I should’ve been here.”

“No. No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who left, and I shouldn’t have done that to you. To us.”

“I should’ve come with you.”

“I should’ve waited.” He kisses her again. And again. And again. “I should’ve waited just a little longer to come back up here.”

“You would’ve missed the scholarship if you had. Life could’ve waited for us back home— I should’ve come with you.”

Her tears taste like the ocean, too. “It’s okay, pearl.”

“Oh, sky,” Her eyes are so watery, even as he tries to calm her down with a gentle hand running down her scales. “What idiots we were.”

He tries for a smile. “Everyone told us this would happen.”

“They did,” She nods, sniffing into his palms as he cradles her face and wipes her lower eyelids free of tears. “They did, and we didn’t listen, and it’s cost us a whole year away from one another. How were we supposed to know it got this bad? It hurts to breathe without you.”

“I guess we were just supposed to listen to them,” He kisses her when she tilts her head up in an indication that she wants his lips on hers. He kisses her enough to make her eyes slip shut, and for her body to shiver as he reaches around her again to hold her at the waist. Sweet, sweet Marinette.

“Never again. Never ever again. I’m so thankful I’m here— I won’t let you go. I need you so much. Will you have me forever?”

There’s no need to ask. “Always. I did end up bonding with you, after all.”

She snorts, almost surprising herself with the noise. “A wise choice, you know. I’ve been told I’m very ‘agreeable’.”

Luka finds himself smiling. “Which parent said that?”

“Her child was impossible to console, every morning there was a new battle with this student. Every afternoon his mother would tell me that if no one ends up bonding with me by the following winter, she’ll start courting me herself, completely oblivious to the ring on my finger. She’s amazed at how easy I handle children, and I’m amazed she can just ignore the clear signs of me having bond fever for this long.”

“You’re perfect at your job,” They both laugh when he’s close enough to her to press his forehead onto hers. “But remember that you’re not the only one that wants to take care of their loved one. No more bond fever. I promise.”

“Definitely not. I’ll make sure to chase it out of our bodies on my own, if I have to.”

“Won’t stop until it’s gone?”

“Making up for the time we spent away,” She nods. “It might take us a little longer than normal, from how bad the fever’s gotten, but I don’t think you mind.”

“Greedy.” He grins. “How will I survive?”

She folds herself around him, encircling him as tightly as possible while still allowing him to move his arms. There’s genuine muscle behind the delicateness of her scales and fins— and while she can’t actually hurt his skin with her scales from how tough-skinned he is even in his human form, he is worried that she might accidentally hurt herself by how brittle and fragile they are. She’s still drying out, going through the process of getting her sea legs, meaning that her tail and fins aren’t as slippery as they usually are. “You’ve been captured, sky. No use trying to escape now.”

Their charms soak up most of the oils on their body, allowing them to fully dry out and gain human legs. Marinette is in the final moments of the transformation, which gives him about thirty more minutes of enjoying seeing his wife like she normally looks before she’s safely hidden amongst other humans.

But still, unbeknown to his wishes to see her completely laid flat, she continues to wrap around him, humming at the back of her throat as she soaks up his body heat, coiling around him like an eel. Cold little pearl. “Still freezing, my sweet?”

“I’m feeling a little better. I don’t think I’m losing any more body heat, but I’ll take any opportunity to be attached to you. I don’t want to let you go for the next ten days. Or weeks. Or months. What do you say to a whole year of us together in this bed?”

“We need to eat at some point.”

“I believe you said that there are delivery services available?” She hums. “I really liked pizza the last time. Do they make pizza with blueberries on them?”

“I’m not sure they do.”

“They should,” She makes a happy noise. “The taste would be sublime. Blueberries are so wonderful. Or how about blueberries and peaches on the pizza?”

“Humans would probably tell you that the pizza you’re craving is a crime.” His laughter is genuine, bubbling out of him at the idea of Marinette eating a slice of what humans consider revolting. “They don’t put fruit on them.”

“They’re missing out on flavors they never would’ve imagined.” She pouts.

“What are we going to do with your horrifying taste palette? You have the appetite of a sea-dweller. Are you sure you’ve lived your entire life in the reef?”

“All of my years, yes.” She giggles. “I don’t imagine I would be a very good sea-dweller. Much too cold down there.”

He smiles when a shiver travels down her tail at the thought of the water. “Oh, yes, how could I have forgotten that I promised to warm you up? Maybe I should cash that in now.”

A hand makes it to his boxers. She snaps his waistband with another version of her soft smiles and those wandering, glittering blue eyes, and, oh— it’s impossible for him to take off his underwear like this, with her tail completely wrapped around him like she’s a snake— but his wife is nothing short of persistent as she kisses his side. He shivers when her tongue sneaks against his skin, wet and moist, and he can feel himself involuntarily twitch his toes at the feeling. “Maybe I should warm you up instead, sky. You look like you’re having a rough time.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But—”

“You are hopelessly mistaken if you think I’m going to allow you to have free reign of my body before I’m able to enjoy the last sights of you like this.” Even as his toes continue to twitch with the way she mouths at his ribs. “You ravenous woman. You’re terrible at sharing, and I’ve missed you very much.”

“Oh, it’s not as if I can’t just take off my earrings and let you enjoy touching my scales some more.”

“You know what I mean,” He scrunches his nose. “Let me do this properly.”

“I’ll let you do whatever you’d like as long as I get to go first.” She tugs at the elastic. “Please? Just a few minutes, Luka? A decently sized amount of time to get my mouth on you?”

Oh, conniving mermaid. “I do not make deals with you. The last time I did, I ended up getting married to you.”

“As if that’s a bad thing!”

“I don’t regret it,” He shares a grin with her. “Definitely not. But you just have a way of convincing me to do things.”

“Oh, so I convinced you to marry me? Funny, I remember something about how you were convinced you were bad for me, but couldn’t help yourself but to keep trying to court me…” She giggles when he attempts to squeeze out of her grasp, rolling his eyes affectionately. “There’s no escaping, sky. Not with your sea legs, I’m afraid.”

It’s true. He is a lot stronger than her with his tail. With just about anything, really, because merfolk from the reefs are nothing compared to the ones out in the open sea with hardened skin and longer figures, but…

“This bed will break if I get rid of them,” He manages to get one of his legs out, much to her complaints. She’s far too dry for her to keep a genuine grip on him, poor thing. “Stretch out, little pearl. I’m curious to see how well you can last.”

“Will you take me like this?” She gasps, letting him unwrap her enough for his other leg to slip out from underneath her. “Oh, sky, yes please! I’m not sure—”

“We’ll do that next time. I have something else in mind.” Although he’s willing to try. Maybe when she isn’t on the cusp of transforming out of her tail, because that would take a little longer for them to find the best position— she’s always so small and tight as it is. It would be easier in water, of course, so that she’s in whatever position is more comfortable for her, but with his ouroboros on he breathes like a normal human. Sadly, he would probably drown himself.

Marinette would kill him.

A good way to go. But still killed and drowned all the same.

She’s still ticklish under his fingertips when he brushes over her scales again, but her cheeks are slowly pinking as they make eye contact. She’s not shy— definitely not. Honestly, she’s much more adventurous than him, in this aspect, but it’s been so long since they’ve been together, and he hopes that he remembers how to please her to the point she sings. Even though she’s excited, and he can tell by the way her fins twitch at the end of the bed, she mostly keeps still as he follows her scales back to where she’s wanted him to be from the very beginning.

Ah, there she is.

This spot is definitely not dry.

Soft, and full of slick, she opens gently to his prodding fingers with a sigh. Her nails are blunt, but they feel like little needles on his shoulders as she grips him, trying her best not to squirm and overwhelm him. Her body is tightly wound, almost hurtful, and even with the slick she’s not that easy to sink into down to the knuckle like he’d imagined. He hisses at how tight she is, feeling his cheeks heat and something stir at the base of his spine, panting as he hears her squelch as he pushes in more and more. “Why are you so tight, pearl?”

“I— oh— haven’t had much time to myself, the school keeps me so busy—” She makes a noise of contentment anyway, brushing her hair back and around her as he fingers her open. She’s a pretty sight, with her hair long and flat like ribbons near her waist. If he twists his finger this way… maybe she’ll… “And you know I don’t like doing it— oh, stars! Luka, yes, more of that—”

“Easy,” He grins, making sure she doesn’t squirm completely away from his hands. She wants to stay, she does, and he knows that, but she’s always too excited to keep still and let him finish. She wants all of it. She wants all of him, and always ends up rushing to the good parts instead of enjoying the moment. “Finish what you were saying, sweetheart.”

She huffs when he stills his finger, batting her tail along the end of the mattress. “I don’t like doing it alone, you know, and it’s been rather lonely doing it.”

“I know what you mean,” He fills in the silence between her panting, twisting his finger again and making her eyes roll as a groan leaves her.

She bites her lip. “I’d rather you help me out, it always feels so much better— oh— you’re just so good, sky.”

“Oh, am I?” He meets her gaze almost challengingly, slowing his fingers down enough to get a shine back into her hazing eyes. “So does that mean you thought about me?”

Does he really deserve that fin slap onto his shoulder? He would say no, but, there’s not much of an argument to be made when she rolls her eyes. “Of course I thought about you. What kind of ridiculous question is that?”

“Let me guess,” He tilts his head to the side, blinking at her with shaggy hair in his lashes. “Did you think about the last time we did it? How I’d made you sing for hours?”

“No— I mean, well, yes— but—” She moans.

He hums. “You almost woke up our neighbors with your sighs. Pretty little thing.”

“You know, I also thought about my husband hurrying up whenever he decided to finger me,” Her smile curls silly when all he does is laugh and continue to stall. Slicking his fingers against the soft and wet slit, only gently sinking in only to pull out again, making her mewl out. “I want to get you out of those boxers, damn this tail! Your cock is calling my name, I know it— if only I had the legs to catch you with, you’d see the summit of my desires.”

“Oh, I’d love to see that. A reef-dweller, trying to outmaneuver a deep-sea dweller.”

“You’re not as scary as you think, sky,” Her shoulders shake from laughter, and he retaliates by curling his fingers just so in order to get that whine back into her voice. “I’ll— oh my— h-have you know, I got over your differentness—”

“My ‘differentness’?” He grins, but she doesn’t elaborate.

“—within the first year of meeting you. Maybe even the first month— I knew from the moment your eyes turned into gold that I was going to marry you. Our friends were confused and terrified of it— but I knew that you’re nothing more than a guppy. And I knew it from the moment you scales changed colors to match the reef that I had found my eternal love.”

“Sweet,” He muses, trying his best not to blush. “But you are still no match for a deep-sea dweller, my love. They’re tougher than nails. The bullies of the merworld.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s true.” But she doesn’t make eye contact with him anymore, instead looking down at his boxers with a knowing look. His body stirs as she continues to look at him, wetting her lips with a slow drag of her tongue, enraptured by what she sees. “The ever scary deep sea, with their terrifying personalities and scary men who want nothing more than to please their wives.”

“And I, of course, wouldn’t know anything about that.”

Something in her switches, and her gaze snaps up to his. He looks at her shining eyes, watching them widen into a lovely shape as she whines at the back of her throat. “Let me have you, Luka, before I lose my mind from how much I need you.”

His finger goes back to making her sing. “I love it when you beg, sweetheart.”

“Ridiculous man,” She rolls her eyes but it almost feels forced as her face turns redder and redder. “Just— oh— watch out, sky, because once you’re done I’ll return the favor.”

She drags him closer for a kiss. He eases another finger into her, desperate to make the humming noise turn into a full-on shout, but he gets distracted by the way her tongue presses into his. Inquisitive, as usual, his pearl is frantic for him as she curls her tongue into his mouth, parting her own lips in a moan when he angles his head to the side and nips at her bottom lip with his teeth.

She’s alive under his fingers. Tight, yes— warmer than a furnace, too— she’s everything he loves and craves. He’ll chase the bond fever out of her, too, even if it takes him all night, but the way she sings praises of his fingers curling and uncurling in her as he works her open is a sign that it might not be long before his pearl is gushing over his fingers.

But the bond fever won’t be that easy to solve. They have a whole year to make up for, of course, but he’s certain that this is in the right direction. To hell with obligations of tomorrow, or even all of the groceries he knows that they have to go and get when he has her gasping and moaning from his actions— he hasn’t heard her sweet and moaning voice in months. It’s a sweet song that he’ll hold forever in his heart.

“Luka— Luka—” She purrs.

Or tries to, at least, since they’re outside of water and the sound doesn’t travel like it should. Regardless, it’s a rumbly and poetic noise that warms him all over, evidence that the strain in her shoulders is starting to lessen, and evidence that she’s relaxing completely. He almost straddles her, his knees on either side of her tail and careful not to step on her hair, pistoning his fingers in the way he knows will alleviate that curl in her spine.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” He could watch her come undone by him for the rest of his life. “Nothing in the world compares to you.”

Oh, and he knows she loves hearing him say that. Luka knows she’s the happiest when he pays attention to her and goads her with endless amount of praise. None of it is ever lies, or forced— which is probably the reason why she loves it so much.

As if to prove his point, slick squelches out of her as she sighs. She’s taking his two fingers so well, even as it’s a tight fit, even as her body attempts to push him out because his fingers are much bigger than what her body reasonably allows to penetrate her, but still, she’s doing so well— even her scales are shining in the lamplight from the amount of fluid she’s producing, and it makes the pink scales look all the more vibrant. “Sky— oh, please, sky—”

“Just a bit more,” He whispers. “I want to watch you just for a little longer. My darling. My wonderful and absolute darling.”

“Please—” She’s babbling a bit, leaning into his hand he has at her cheek, looking at him with those diamond blue eyes. “Please, Luka, please— oh—”

Oh, he loves it when she begs.

“Come for me?” He nips at her jaw and mouth. He’d bite and lick her at the chest if she had her sea legs, but there’s nothing but smooth scales to mouth over, and it would probably be best not to get any lacerations just because he couldn’t wait for a bit longer. “Be a dearest for me and come for me, little pearl.”

Her tail goes completely rigid when she does.

He feels his fingers get squeezed just as she throws her head back, and catches sight of her earrings starting to glow. He pulls his fingers out just as the magical charms release and stain her skin, and he blinks at the sight of beautiful cream-colored legs wrapped around his hips. Not to mention her pink slit, sticky from his help— he can’t stop himself from going back to her and using his fingertips up and down the sensitive flesh that has her twitching and mewling behind a hand.

“Oh! I— I forgot I’m more sensitive—” She flinches when he comes into contact with her clit. He rolls her flesh between two fingers, enjoying that cute face she makes, before— wait— are her thighs locking because she’s— “Luka— oh stars—”

“Twice back to back, pearl?” His eyes blow wide when she comes back from gasping and crying. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“Oh. I didn’t expect— oh.”

“Sweet Marinette. You’re so perfect, just like usual.” He murmurs as she starts to settle back down, starting to slow her twitching from his fingertips. “How are you feeling?”

“Mmmm,” She hums instead of answering, and he can’t fault himself for chuckling. “That one is going to cost you.”

“Is it?”

But the sight of her is mouth-watering, so breathtakingly mouth-watering— and he’s halfway to just opening her up again with his fingers and exploring all of her new skin available. After all, the swell of her breasts is so appetizing, her face flushed and glowing as she loses a bit of steam in favor of drowsily blinking up at him— he wants nothing more than to suck bruises onto her porcelain skin and have her continuously cry out.

His own arousal is an afterthought, so long as he can keep her with him looking this beautiful and this dazed.

But the world tilts very much soon after he makes that thought.

“Yes, my lovely sky. My turn— I’ll make sure you to give you two as well.” She smiles, saddling him with a fervor that he should’ve expected by now. The space between her legs is sticky and warm, and he can feel her wetness through his boxers as she sits right where he’s sure is most comfortable for her. Her thighs feel like the perfect weights against his hips, slotting against him like a perfect pair.

Her eyes are brown, now, just as dark and vast as the sea he grew up in before meeting her. Her human eyes are beautiful and nostalgic to his past, and he finds himself captivated by them every time. He loves her in all forms, after all, bond or not— she’s beautiful to him in all versions he’s ever met her, even as he plays with the strands of her slightly shorter hair, relishing in how soft it still is against his fingertips.

“Go easy on me, scary serpent, you know I bruise easily,” He grins at her, palming up the soft flesh of her legs. She shivers at it, still sensitive after just transforming. No doubt her body is still trying to make sense of the sudden change, but she seems to be more in favor of putting all of that on the back burner and focusing on him. She captures his wrist, and kisses softly at his ring when she brings his hand up to her face— he tries his best not to pay attention to how her breasts feel like silk against his arm and elbow.

“Not a chance, my dear.”

AO3 | Chapter One | Chapter Two

[a-secret-bolton-vampire]

Daenerys Stormborn, Part 1: From Pentos, to Vaes Dothrak, from Qarth, to Slaver's Bay

I've decided since this tiny post; I'll write about Dany. But there's so much I can talk about that I will most likely write between other essays (unless I feel otherwise). Daenerys Targaryen is my favourite character in ASOIAF. She's an incredibly complex character, and one whose fate interests me quite a lot. Of all the endings in the show, Dany's made me the saddest and angriest. Not only did they rush and make her turn a "twist" that happened on a dime, but it fed into the Mad Queen theories that I really despised.

Can't a powerful women with dragons not go mad with power and become prone to hysteria? Also, can said woman not be murdered by her lover/nephew as a way to give said lover more pain instead of having any meaningful end to her arc? And can said woman not have been "an insane tyrant the whole time"? I may one day vent on season 8, but I won't. Instead, I want to attempt to make sense of the ending we saw in the show, and how it applies to the books. Bit by bit, I will build up to Dany's ultimate role in the series. But first, we need to set the groundwork for it.

(CW: Rape)

The Last Dragon

The first we see of Daenerys, she is a very shy girl who was under the thumb of her physically and psychologically abusive brother Viserys. With no agency, she was married off as essentially a marital slave to be raped by Khal Drogo. However, after some meaningful dragon dreams, Dany began to try and take advantage of her surroundings to give herself power. Of course, Viserys didn't like this very much. Dany was everything Viserys wasn't.

Whereas Viserys was incredibly narcissistic and had no real feelings for anyone other than himself, Daenerys shows empathy to those lower than her. While Viserys was prone to violent outbursts of intense rage and did not think things through very well, Dany is more measured, perceptive, and intelligent (not to say she's infallible, nobody in this world is infallible). As Daenerys became more and more loved by Drogo and the Dothraki, Viserys found himself jealous that she was better received than him, the lawful heir to the Targaryen dynasty.

This culminated in Viserys threatening to cut Rhaego out from her, and Drogo pouring molten gold onto his face to kill him. Good riddance, fuck Viserys. Anyways, she then tries to convince Drogo to cross the narrow sea to invade Westeros, but he stubbornly refuses until an assassin hired by Robert attempts to poison her and is caught, at which point he vows to do so. In her first real experience with war, when the khalasar sacks a Lhazareen village, Dany is disturbed to see all the innocent men being massacred and the women being gang raped, so she decides to take the women under her protection, which earns her resentment from some of Drogo's bloodriders.

I don't think Dany was quite aware of what war and conquest would look like until the village, and she was horrified by what she saw. During the sack, Drogo was wounded slaying Khal Ogo, and with Dany's urging, one of the women she took under her protection, Mirri Maz Duur, agreed to heal his wound. Of course, being a maegi, she is hated and not trusted by the Dothraki. Regardless, Mirri heals Drogo's wounds and they continue on until Drogo collapses from a fever, having removed the poultice of his wound.

From there, Dany's hold on the khalasar is weakening. Her power is really tied to Drogo's, as Dothraki society is extremely misogynistic and views women as lesser beings. Desperate to save him, she turns to Mirri for any magic she could use to heal him. This decision is what finally breaks the khalasar, several of the bloodriders try to kill her, and in that time, another one of the women Dany rescued, Eroeh, was gang raped and murdered by Jhaqo and Pono. The result is Daenerys being left with what can't be more than 100 people out of the original 100,000 or so people in the khalasar.

However, Dany suffers another crushing loss; her child Rhaego. While Mirri says that death may pay for life, and she sacrifices Drogo's horse, the real price was Dany's unborn child. She did so because Rhaego was to be the stallion who mounts the world, a prophesied leader of all Dothraki who would become a great conqueror. In addition, Drogo is "healed", but permanently left in a catatonic state. When Dany asks Mirri when he will be back to normal, Mirri says;

"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east," said Mirri Maz Duur. "When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before."

Dany seems to take this to mean "never", and is heartbroken, so she mercy kills him by smothering him with a pillow.

Throughout the first book, Dany has a series of dreams and visions involving dragons, the most telling of which was her "wake the dragon" fever dream she had during Mirri's ritual. As a result, and to get vengeance for her husband and child, Dany decides to tie Mirri on a stake to Drogo's funeral pyre, as well as placing the dragon eggs with Drogo. Then, when it is lit, and Mirri burns alive, Dany walks into the flames. Everyone thinks she is mad, that she is out of her mind, but Dany seems to think this is all part of her destiny.

And sure enough, when the fire burns out, she is unburnt (save for her hair), and she has three newly hatched dragons. The "wake the dragon" dream also features, near the end, her opening the red door of the house she stayed in as a young child in Braavos, and finding herself under the visor of Rhaegar's helmet, as Jorah repeats "the last dragon". Dany's journey in the first book is about taking control of herself and her family's legacy.

Early on, she realizes that Viserys will never conquer the Seven Kingdoms, and although Viserys originally had Dany marry Drogo to get an army of his own, the khalasar eventually became Dany's army. And when Viserys died, Dany decided it was her responsibility to do what he could not; take back the Iron Throne for her family. And then, at her absolute lowest, when she has lost practically the entire khalasar, her husband, her child, she gains three dragons.

Viserys believed that his name made him a Targaryen, that being King meant he was a true Targaryen. His anger was a tool to assert his dominance as a Targaryen, to get others to bend to his will. He has immense pride for his family, which turned into unchecked narcissism. But for all his talk, Viserys was no true Targaryen, and no true dragon. Dany even thinks this just after he dies.

He was no dragon, Dany thought, curiously calm. Fire cannot kill a dragon.

Dany has brought dragons back to the world, a symbol of the power Targaryens had, back to life. She was not killed by the fire of Drogo's pyre (of course, she isn't fireproof, this was a one time weird occurrence). She is a true dragon, a true Targaryen, who is truly following in the footsteps of her family.

The Lost Dragon

During the Drogo pyre fire (hah), a red comet appeared in the sky. Believing that she has a bigger purpose, and that the comet was sent for her, she and her khalasar follow it, into the Red Waste. Despite thinking this is a sign for her future, she is mostly lost and unsure what to do. With enemies all around, the Red Waste is the only way to go. They find the abandoned city of what she calls Vaes Tolorro, and she sends out her bloodriders to look for what is around.

Eventually, Jhogo returns with three representatives of Qarth; Xaro Xhoan Daxos, Pyat Pree, and Quaithe. They bring her back to Qarth, where she is showered with gifts and given part of Xaro's own palace to stay at. She begs an audience with the Pureborn, the descendants of the kings and queens of Qarth, but they reject her plea for aid in conquering Westeros. Xaro meanwhile suggests marriage, but only as a means to steal her dragons for himself. Quaithe gives very cryptic and vague as hell prophecies to Dany.

With no one left to turn to for aid, Dany decides to seek answers from the warlocks at the House of the Undying, drinking shade of the evening and having numerous visions. When she finally finds the Undying, they seem to be trying to steal her life force, only for Drogon to set them alight. After that, with no way to leave Qarth and refusal to be sent off with any ships, Dany is stuck, and is the subject of an assassination attempt by the Sorrowful Men, sent by Pyat Pree, only for it to be thwarted thanks to Barristan.

On surface level, Dany's ACOK arc is less eventful and straightforward than AGOT; she remains in roughly a single location the entire time, with only two major events occurring (the Undying visions & the attempted assassination). However, after such a journey in AGOT, it makes sense for her story to slow down a bit before speeding back up in ASOS. After finally embracing the responsibility of carrying the Targaryen legacy her brother failed to live to, Dany now has to deal with the fact of how important she is and what her next moves are.

Despite Qarth being so beautiful and splendid, with seemingly everyone ready to provide aid for her quest to conquer Westeros, it is all an illusion. They see someone who is now one of the most powerful people in the world, someone they can use to manipulate for their own ends and gain power for themselves. Quaithe tells Dany as much:

Last of the three seekers to depart was Quaithe the shadowbinder. From her Dany received only a warning. "Beware," the woman in the red lacquer mask said. "Of whom?" "Of all. They shall come day and night to see the wonder that has been born again into the world, and when they see they shall lust. For dragons are fire made flesh, and fire is power."

Dany thinks to herself that there must've been a reason the comet led her to Qarth, as part of her belief that she is heavily tied to destiny.

"The comet led me to Qarth for a reason. I had hoped to find my army here, but it seems that will not be. What else remains, I ask myself?"

So what was the reason she was in Qarth? In my opinion, it was partly to teach her a lesson in not trusting people, but mostly knowledge. The House of the Undying is a massive moment in the series, as it lays out many future events of the series before us (and her!) that are very cryptic and hard to uncover. I will one day examine the full scope of the visions of the Undying, but I want to focus on the narrative reason for this.

Daenerys has a strong sense of destiny. The hatching of the dragons, the red comet, the visions, they all have to mean something, lead toward this grand destiny of hers. I think that a lot (but not all) of the visions Dany experiences are relevant to her future, and lay out a lot of what she will experience/do in the last two books. The prophecies she learns (especially concerning being the "slayer of lies", "three treasons", "three fires", and "three mounts") stay with her into ADWD, where Quaithe once again appears and asks she remember the Undying.

Prophecies are also very common in Greek tragedies, and also appears in Macbeth, a tragedy written by Shakespeare, wherein Macbeth seeks out the knowledge of the witches again out of fear that he will lose his position as king. Daenerys is aware that there will be three treasons committed against her, as well as three fires she will light, and three mounts she will ride, and that there are three heads of the dragon. She constantly considers in ADWD whether these prophecies are coming true, that she finds confusing and suspicious, frustrated even.

In short, the Undying is not just a window into the future, but more of an exploration of the effect prophecy has on a young person like Daenerys who so strongly believes in destiny. She also learns in a vision of Rhaegar about something called "the song of ice and fire", which seems to be extremely significant, and that she will be at the centre of the climactic events of the series.

In the end, it is not herself or the Qartheen who get her out of Qarth, but a disguised Barristan Selmy, sent with three ships by Illyrio to bring her back to Pentos. Dissatisfied with her time in Qarth, she decides to return to Pentos with Barristan... but Pentos is not where she ends up, not even close.

The New Dragon

After leaving Qarth and the return west, Jorah, mistrustful of Illyrio, instead convinces Dany to turn the ships to Astapor and buy Unsullied slave soldiers to help in her conquest of Westeros. Stopping by Astapor, she finds a hellish place, red bricks, tortured slaves, and narcissistic slave masters who have no regard or empathy for anyone other than themselves. Disgusted by what she has seen, Dany formulates a plan entirely in her own head; she decides to buy all the Unsullied by giving Drogon over to Kraznys.

Only she didn't. She only did that to gain control of the Unsullied, before burning the masters and freeing all the slaves. As she tells Xaro later in ADWD, despite being surrounded by slaves with the Dothraki and in Qarth, she did not see how horrible it could be until she got to Astapor and saw how the slaves were tortured. She had the power to try to end it, and decided to take it upon her hands. So instead of heading to Westeros, she decides to liberate Yunkai and Meereen as well.

It's easy to be frustrated at Dany's Essos arc, especially since it doesn't really interact with the Westerosi plot where the majority of the action is taking place, but I think it's important that Dany repeatedly is given an option to go to Westeros, but instead stays in Essos. Progressions in real life are rarely linear, and I applaud GRRM for being able to have clear character arcs while not having the progression be entirely linear and staying true to life.

After Astapor, Yunkai fears what will happen to them as she approaches and hires two sellsword companies for aid. Instead, Dany purposefully lies to the Yunkish envoy and the sellswords, and gives the later wine to get drunk on (and an offer to join her) while she attacks at night. Daario, a lieutenant of the Stormcrows, is won over by Daenerys, kills his fellow captains, and defects to her side. Yunkai is defeated, and the slaves are let go. However, unlike Astapor, Dany does not put an end to the Wise Masters. For this, she is hailed by the freedmen as "mhysa!" or "mother". The Second Sons also join Daenerys after the battle.

Then they move on to Meereen, who has decided to crucify a little slave girl for each mile as a marker from Yunkai to Meereen. When she arrives, the Meereenese champion is easily defeated, and Mero, the former captain of the Second Sons, attempts to kill Dany in her camp, but is promptly killed by Arstan Whitebeard, who is then revealed to be Barristan, who reveals Jorah has been spying on Daenerys for King Robert.

Daenerys takes Meereen and crucifies the 162 Great Masters as retribution for the 162 slave girls crucified. When Barristan explains why he did not tell her who he was, she accepts and forgives him, but she finds she cannot forgive Jorah and banishes him. And of course, instead of leaving for Westeros, she decides to stay in Meereen, after learning that Astapor has been left in the hands of a butcher king named Cleon, overthrowing a council she had instilled when she left, and proposing war against Yunkai, which she just liberated.

Worried about what the effects would be if she simply left Meereen for Westeros, she decides to stay in Meereen and rule as its queen. I decided to call this section "the new dragon" because of Daenerys dismantling an institution her own ancestors helped found. The Ghiscari of Old Ghis had slavery of their own, which they ended up teaching to their new conquerors, the Valyrians. Then, after the Doom, slavery continued again, only this time it was now being practiced by the Free Cities, who are in constant trading with the masters of Slaver's Bay.

As she notes, they keep to the Ghiscari gods, and their symbol is of the harpy, a symbol of Old Ghis, but they no longer speak Ghiscari, instead speaking High Valyrian. Slavery was something the dragonlords of Old Valyria engaged in routinely, and that legacy is still all over Essos. In a way, she is undoing the sins of her ancestors past, and trying to make the world a better place and fighting injustice by using her dragons.

In contrast to ACOK, where she seems as yet undecided on what exactly her destiny is, she seems to be taking control of it in ASOS, becoming Mhysa, the Breaker of Chains, a saviour to those who have been enslaved. It is at this point that she starts to gain a serious following, one that I only assume will continue to grow in Essos. Because of her actions in fighting against slavery, she not only becomes a real saviour to the freedmen, but she also becomes a messianic figure to the followers of R'hllor, as a reincarnation of Azor Ahai.

This is where Dany goes from being simply the last Targaryen, the last dragon, and into a legendary, almost mythic, god-like figure. In my future essays, I will expand upon this aspect of her, since it is going to be really important moving forward, but the start of that is here in ASOS. And thus, this will be where I am concluding part 1. AGOT had Daenerys starting low, but eventually learning to rise up and realize she has to be the one to carry on the Targaryen legacy, after knowing Viserys would never live up to it.

ACOK had Dany questioning her destiny, as well as figuring out what her next step is after the miraculous birth of her dragons. And ASOS concludes her act 1 arc, by having her take control of her destiny and becoming a truly legendary figure who is changing the world. In part 2, I will be discussing in depth the thematic and personal struggles Daenerys faces as she is ruling Meereen in ADWD, and what those struggles and their resolution means for her future.

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Unedited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Twenty One: The One Where he Promised

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2536

      Close to two months. Lily and Bucky had been together for close to two months. Something Lily would have never thought for herself. Especially not after her divorce. Scott had made her feel so empty, so unloveable. For a while she doubted even divorcing him all those years ago, feeling as though she would never find anyone ever again. Because he had convinced her she wasn't deserving of it. That he was the only person who could love her. Boy, if she knew where she would end up, she would have laughed in his face at those words. Because despite the mental trauma she dealt with from her first marriage, Lily found herself on the other side.

      But, she was saying goodbye to the man who helped her feel loved again.

      "You promise you'll be home for Christmas, right?" Lily whispered as she unwrapped her arms from the taller man, looking up at him with wide eyes, "Hunt's really excited for it."

      Nodding, Bucky pressed a quick kiss to the blonde's lips, "I promise, doll." the brunette whispered, "And I promise I will call you everyday until I'm home. It shouldn't be too long."

      Lily nodded and pursed her lips. Bucky and Sam had been tasked with a mission a week before Christmas. And listen, he had gone on missions before throughout their relationship. But those were mostly weekend jobs. This one was predicted to be a week long, taking it all the way up to Christmas Eve. Lily had become accustomed to waking up with the supersoldier at her side, admiring her and tracing gentle patterns on her exposed skin. Or waking up to the smell of pancakes and faint voices coming from the kitchen as Bucky helped Hunter with homework, and Rose cooked. So far, he had been most helpful with the twelve year olds history lessons. No surprise to anyone.

      Running her hand through the short cut of his hair on the back of his head, Lily smiled sadly. It had been a few months since he had cut his hair as well, and lord was the blonde obsessed. She loved it. And of course, she would miss playing with it as he fell asleep on her chest at night. Or watching Hunter pout since he couldn't braid it anymore. Or attempt to braid it. In reality, Lily knew she would just miss him. His smell, his touch. But she knew she wouldn't, nor couldn't, stop him. This was his job and Lily loved that, that he was out there protecting people. But the selfish part of her wished she could just keep him wrapped in her arms.

     But it would be a nice break for the two of them. Every couple needs that.

     "Are you leaving already?" Hunter's voice called as he walked down the wooden stairs with Rose, "Can't you stay for breakfast?"

      Lily stepped back with her sister as she watched Bucky bend down to Hunter's level. Rose wrapped her arm around her sister's shoulders, tugging her into her side. Lily rested her opposite arm around the taller sisters waist landing on the side of Rose's five month pregnant belly. The younger of the two had learned she was having a baby boy, and now the big deal in the house was figuring out a name for when the baby came. Hunter was hell bent on Bucky, which only made everyone chuckle.

      "I'll be back for Christmas, buddy," Bucky smiled tightly, ruffling the blonde boy's hair, "and I'll talk to you and your mom everyday while I'm in Vienna. I promise." The brunette nodded, lifting his pinky to the young boy.

      Lily felt her heart swell as she watched Hunter bypass the pinky promise and wrap his arms tightly around the Avengers neck. Leaning her head against her sister's shoulder, Lily grinned at the interaction. She took note of the way Bucky tensed slightly, only to relax and close his eyes as he tugged the son of his girlfriend closer, and gave him a tight squeeze. The moment was interrupted when Bucky's phone rang, signaling that it really was time for him to leave.

      "Alright I've gotta go, Hunt," he hummed, kissing the top of the boys head, "I'll tell you all the cool things that happen. Be good for your mom." The tall man grinned, standing and turning to Lily. He hugged Rose briefly before kissing Lily one last time, "I'll call you when we get there okay?"

      Lily nodded and watched as he turned to leave. All three watched intently as the superhero got into his car, pulling away and driving off from the suburb. Leaving the three Osborne's standing in the doorway of the freezing December morning.

      "Alright Hunt, let's get you fed before school." Rose whispered, tugging the twelve year old away from the door as Lily watched the black car disappear past the intersection.

-----

     The day Bucky leaves, the day Lily has the most stressful day at work imaginable. Two appendix surgeries, a few colonoscopies, and things that Lily didn't even want to talk about. She had also gotten a call from Hunter's school saying he had seemed off that day, and that he was even quieter than usual. Not to mention, Rose was blowing up her phone with pregnancy questions. Overall, Lily wanted nothing more that day than to have Bucky at home, telling her she would be okay and that one stressful or bad day was normal.

      Instead of Bucky, however, she got Gen.

      "I know it's a Thursday but I brought wine." The woman grinned as Lily pulled open the front door, "Figured might help you take your mind off of how awful it must be to have your supersoldier boyfriend gone on a mission to save the world." She teased sarcastically, earning an eye roll from the blonde as the two walked into the kitchen.

      Lily had indeed attempted cooking an actual dinner. Over the past few months Bucky had mostly handled dinner when he came over while Lily took care of breakfast the next day. But, Bucky would be gone for a week, which meant Lily had to properly cook again. And it's not like she had no idea how to, she'd been cooking for Hunter and herself for twelve years now. Was she very good at it? Not really. But she made do, and that's just how it had to be for the next few days. Even though everyone in the house knew at some point, Lily would give up and either pass the reins to Rose, or order pizza.

  The Osborne's were known for their intelligence, not their chef skills.

   Lily sometimes found herself dwelling on her parents. The entire thing had come out of nowhere. One moment she believed her parents to be innocent scientists, only to find out that they were trying to get their hands on technology that was somehow connected to Hunter. The entire situation was confusing for her, and she shied away from the details that Bucky had offered her whenever they spoke on the issue. But she didn't want to face the truth. It only hurt her more. And as it stood, the only Osborne's left standing with their free will and morals intact were Rose and Lily. Both living together once again and continuing on with their lives, knowing that their parents had made a mess, and had to lie in it.

   "Rose were you around for the last time that your dearest sister decided to cook a stir fry?" Gen joked as she placed the wine bottle down, "Because I distinctly remember having to almost call the fire department."

    "It was not that bad!" Lily laughed as she tossed the rest of the vegetables into her skillet, "Did I have to buy a new stove? Yes. But there was no need for the fire department. Right Hunt?"

    The young boy glanced up from his phone and raised an eyebrow at his mother, "...Mum you raised me not to lie." He stated simply.

     "Wow, you two even turned my own son against me." Lily chuckled as she mixed the ingredients around on the hot surface. Just as the conversation began once more, laughter and sweet tones of happiness mixing with the gentle music playing in the background, Lily's phone began to ring.

     But she wasn't the quick one.

     Lily watched and laughed as Hunter hurried to the phone. The entire time since he had gotten home from school and Lily from work, he had been waiting by her side. All because Bucky promised he would call every night. It made Lily's heart swell, the amount of love that the twelve year old had for the man. Of course it worried her in some aspect, seeing as she didn't know where the relationship would lead. Scared that if it went sideways, it would leave the young boy broken. Possibly even more so than Lily would be. She was very aware of the fact that Hunter would try and attach himself to a father figure, seeing as he lacked one. But Lily just...fell hard for Bucky. Had she fallen in love? Well she wasn't entirely sure just yet. But she knew she would. Whether it be soon or a bit longer. She knew it would happen. And it crept around corners and hid under furniture, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and take over Lily's heart.

    "Hi Bucky!" Hunter's voice rang out as he slid up on the blonde's phone. Lily dropped the hand she had out to reach for it, smiling softly at the bright and excited face of her son lit up the room.

    "Hey there buddy," Bucky replied, his voice muffled slightly as it rang through the phone speakers, "what're you and mom up to?"

    "She's making dinner right now. But she had a stressful day at work so it won't be surprising if we ordered pizza." Hunter bluntly stated, causing Lily to scoff as she continued working on the food.

      "I haven't even been gone a day and she's already trying to burn your house down!" Bucky chuckled, joking along with the boy, "Is it just you and mom there?"

      "No, Aunt Gen and Auntie Rose are here." Hunter answered.

     As the conversation went on, Lily's heart sunk slightly, yearning to hear the man's voice upclose, see the dimples on his cheeks and the lights of his eyes. But she knew that it meant the world to Bucky that Hunter loved talking to him so much, and she knew how much it meant to Hunter to see the supersoldier. The smile on the young boy's face said that much as the two continued with their conversation. School, Joey, and what Hunter wanted for Christmas were the main topics of the conversation between the two as Lily finished up dinner. Placing the meal onto four plates, Lily glanced back at Hunter and felt that same sunken heart swell at the bright and vibrant smile that was placed on her son's cheeks. She hadn't seen him so effortlessly happy in a while, and she never wanted to see that smile fade.

      "Well we are just eating dinner now, Buck." Lily called as she leaned over Hunter's shoulder to place hisplate down, "Shouldn't you get some sleep? Isn't it midnight in Vienna? And you had a long flight darling." Leaning back, Lily placed her hands on her scrub covered hips, tilting her head to the side.

       "It's alright, doll. I wanted to see your guys' faces before I went to bed." He cooed, readjusting on his bed, glancing over to the side at the scoff from Sam that echoed through the speakers as well.

       "That's very sweet of you Buck, but I'm sure Sam would like to sleep too." Lily chuckled, taking a seat in her own chair, picking up her fork.

       "Thank you Lily!" Sam called, earning a chuckle from the entire call.

      "Alright I'll let you guys go for now then." Bucky sighed, gesturing for Hunter to turn the phone towards Lily, "I'll call you later if I'm still awake and the grumpy one of the two of us is asleep."

      "Alright terminator let's not go that far." Sam called over once more.

      "Well call me in an hour or so then." Lily smiled, before saying her farewells and ended the call.

       The table fell silent as Lily stared at the now black screen of the phone her son was holding. Clearing her throat, the blonde reached forward and slid the device into her pocket. Without another word, the group dug into the food. Either she had actually done well, or everyone was treading on thin ice around her in fear that the lack of conversation she and Bucky had may have hurt her a bit more than she was letting on. Of course she would never say any of this outloud, but she wished that Bucky would have said something so that she could talk to him. But, if he was awake, she would hopefully get the chance in a few hours when Hunter had gone to bed and Gen left or settled in on the pullout couch in the basement for the night.

-----

    Three hours later, two glasses of wine, and one sleeping son later, Lily finally found the comfort of her own bed. Gen had taken the pullout couch, the rest of the bottle of wine in her stomach. Lily climbed into bed, turning on her TV as Joey settled into his bed. It was nine o'clock, meaning it was 2 am over in Austria. And Lily was positive that the man had fallen asleep. But it was when she finally settled in, a romantic movie playing in the background to only further her sad mood, when her phone rang. Joey's head popped up and the blonde chuckled as she reached over and slid her phone across the screen, answering the call.

      "Why're you up so late, Buck?" she asked, reaching over and turning on the lamp beside her bed.

       Winds whipped past Bucky's mic as the sight of Austria lit up at night took over the entirety of her screen. She smiled at the flurries of snow that fell down onto the stone streets and covered the beautiful architecture. Lily rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palm before rolling onto her side, showing Joey's head laying on the pillow beside her on camera.

     "I'm not even gone for a day and the dog already stole my spot!" Bucky chuckled, turning the camera around to display his chiseled features and slightly tousled short hair.

     "Well this is where he typically sleeps when it's just me in bed." Lily chuckled, eyes creasing slightly at the edges as she watched the man seemingly admire her face on his screen.

     "I want to bring you here one day. To Vienna. It's beautiful here." He cooed, resting his arms on the stone rail that surrounded what seemed to be the balcony of him and Sam's room, "There are so many places I want to take you, prinţesă."

     "I'm not much of a traveller." she chuckled, burrowing further into her pillows, pulling the large shirt that actually belonged to Bucky over her chin.

     "Doll I've got some news," Bucky sighed, his voice dropping slightly, "Sam and I did some scoping on the mission. It may take the entire week. I thought we would be done earlier but..." his voice trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

      Lily sighed gently, running a hand through her golden hair, "That's alright, darling. I just really have to stress how much I need you home for Christmas. How much Hunter needs you home for Christmas." She persisted, moving her eyes from his face on her screen to the soft fur of her dog.

      "I'll be home, prinţesă. I promise."

-----

      Christmas Eve came. Not a word from Bucky. He had texted her briefly but the two hadn't been on a call for a day or two. She wasn't able to get any updates from either Sam or Bucky, leaving her with zero contact the day before christmas eve and the day of. Lily's anxiety ridden mind immediately went to the worst. The mission had gone sideways, and she no longer had a boyfriend. God she wished that he would just text her, or get in contact with anyone so that she would just know he's okay. She just wanted him to be okay, and to be able to tell Hunter he was on his way home.

     "Hunt can you help me finish up?" Lily called from the living room as she searched for the stocking that would complete the set on the fireplace, "Do you remember where you put your stocking?"

      The sound of four feet walking forward grew closer as Rose and Hunter came into the living room. Rose gave her older sister a pitiful smile, knowing that she was avoiding hanging up the stocking that Hunter had chosen for Bucky. It sat on the couch beside the fireplace, taunting Lily at the idea that he wouldn't be home. That something dark happened. She could barely even fathom the idea of the man not being there for Christmas after he promised her and promised Hunter. The day was too important. But most of all, she just wanted to make sure he was safe most of all.

     "Here," Hunter smiled and picked up his red knit stocking, "are you going to hang up Bucky's stocking?" the boy asked, looking up at his mom after hanging up his own stocking.

      Lily's hand faltered as she readjusted Rose's stocking. Squeezing her eyes shut she let out a gentle laugh, looking down at the young blonde boy who stared back up at her with large hazel eyes. Tilting her head, she smiled and bent down, kissing the top of his head. Nodding, she reached over towards the newest addition, and stared at it for a second. Deciding to rip the bandaid off quickly, she placed it right next to her own, admiring Rose's stitching of the man's name. Lily traced the cursive name with her thumb, looking down at her feet that were covered by warm slippers.

       "Alright buddy, let's get the milk and cookies out for Santa and then get you ready for bed okay?" Lily smiled tightly, squeezing the boy's shoulder and leading him into the kitchen, Rose following behind.

       After setting the cookies out, Lily followed the boy up the stairs to his bedroom. After he brushed his teeth and crawled into his bed, she knew what was coming. The way he looked at her. The sadness in his eyes and the clear question that sat on the tip of his tongue. Hunter wanted to know about Bucky, and where he was. Why he hadn't come home yet, despite promising he would be home for Christmas. The two sat in silence for a moment, before the younger boy decided to make the first move.

        "Why isn't he home?" Hunter whispered, looking up at the blonde woman, eyes wide.

        "I'm sure he'll be home for tomorrow, love, but I just don't want you to get your hopes up," Lily sighed, running her hand down the boy's cheek, "You know how important his job is. It may take time, but he's keeping people safe."

       "I know..."  the young boy sighed, pulling his covers closer to his chin, "I just thought it would be nice to have him here."

       "Well, Aunt Gen will be here tomorrow too so you have her." Lily smiled sadly, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the boys forehead, "Goodnight Hunt, I love you."

       Flicking off the light, Lily left her son's room with a shaky breath. It pained her to see him so upset that Bucky wasn't home yet. It killed her too. She knew how much it would mean to not only her, but Rose even. But especially Hunter. It had always been the entire Osborne family going up to their parents house in Long Island, or coming down to Lily's and gathering around the firepit in her backyard. But now, it was the four of them, Gen, Rose, Lily, and Hunter. But Bucky would have just been the cherry on top for everyone.

      Climbing back down the stairs, Lily sighed and dropped onto the couch next to Rose. The younger sister pulled the elder of the two tight into her side, pressing a kiss to the moms temple. The two sat in silence for a moment, before it dawned on them, they had a shit ton of presents to wrap from Santa. Heaving themselves off of the couch, Lily beckoned Joey down to the basement with them, where all of the secret presents were hidden underneath a bunch of blankets and cooking supplies in a closet. When the clock struck one, the two had finished. Lily felt the tears gathering in her waterline, and the moment her door shut, they fell.

       Sliding down onto her butt, Lily felt the hot tears stream down her face at a rapid rate. She longed for her sons happiness, and the fact she couldn't do anything to help mend his mood, killed her on the inside. Especially on Christmas. Leaving Hunter with a missing father figure, and Lily with anxiety that something bad had happened to him.

       Tucking herself into bed, Lily attempted to calm down. Everytime she tossed and turned, it seemed as though the clock fast forwarded another half an hour. It was three thirty, almost four, when she had finally begun to doze off, when the sound of the lock of the door down the stairs, began to make gentle beeping noises. Sitting up straight, Lily grabbed onto the closest object she could find and slowly cracked open her door. Joey followed at her ankles as she and the dog walked down the stairs slowly, careful not to make any noise as they stood on the landing.

      Glancing over the banister, Lily watched intently at the figure that loomed at the door of her home. The outdoor lights automatically turned off around one am, leaving the figure only illuminated by the light of the moon behind them. Staring at the figure, Lily gripped at the object in her hand tighter, soon realizing it was actually a dog toy. Scoffing at herself, the blonde crept down the hardwood stairs, gripping the iron banister as her bare feet padded gently on the floor. It was only when the door pushed open, when Lily retreated behind the protective dog, who was now bending into a pounce position.

      When the figure stepped into the home, Lily dropped the toy with a feeling of shock and anxiety coursing through her veins.

[wakaoujisenhime]

❤️ F!reader is sweet to her boys Shouto & Hitoshi. They know about each other, but rarely talk unless it’s about her. She always has songs stuck in her head, whisper sings doin lil dances while sitting, both think is adorable but don’t say it. She gets really hurt saving them, losing blood, they’re tearing up “why would you do that, dummy?” She’s singin “fuck apologies I would say I’m sorry if I really meant it” ☺️ happy they safe, she sleeps for a week, Toshi puts blanket on Sho, she wakes up

A/N: This is the first time I got a request in such a form, so I hope I understood it right and could give you the story you had hoped for! Please enjoy! (๑꒪▿꒪)*

Tags: Todoroki x reader ✅  Shinsou x reader ✅  SFW ✅  fluff ✅  slight angst ✅

image/art source: Pinterest (if you know the original artist please let me know!!)

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

The best sight one can wake up to - Todoroki and Shinsou x reader

Todoroki, Shinsou, and you. 

Everybody from class 1-A and 1-C knew about the peculiar relationship the three of you shared.

On one hand, we had Todoroki, the young prince amongst the future heroes as well as Endeavor’s youngest son. 

The cold and distant facade he had put up, broke the moment he first saw you smiling bashfully at him after he had caught you dancing on the school’s rooftop.

Why are you just standing there? C’mere and dance with me!

He wasn’t used to such a cheerful voice welcoming and even inviting him to an activity you apparently enjoyed so much.

On the other hand, there was Shinsou, the ambitious young man who was ready to give it his all, in order to become a hero and show the world that even someone from a less popular class could be on the same level as them.

You were the first person to ever truly grasp what kind of impact his quirk actually had on his life, while others simply said that he was unsocial and hard to get along with. 

Is there a song you like? One that sets your mind at peace for example.

If there is, then I'd advise you to always sing it quietly to yourself...trust me, it helps.

What you had said was nothing but a simple comment with no real meaning behind it, but exactly that statement had changed his life.

And last but not least we had you, (Y/N), the girl that ran all the way from the support department to the future heroes’ classrooms to pick them up so that they could eat together during the lunch break.

Being a part of the class that had nothing but their inventions, there was no time for deeper friendships and everybody knew that...so how was it that you got along with the most unapproachable boys in your entire school?

It had still been a mystery to you, but you cherished those bonds nonetheless. 

In the beginning, you had a lot of difficulties to even get Todoroki and Shinsou to meet up with you at the same time, one didn't stop complaining about how he didn't want to talk to any of those ’pompous asses from class A’ while the other didn't even bother complaining at all - he sighed multiple times instead.

But after you had expressed the wish of wanting to spend as much time as possible with the most important people in your life, they simply couldn't refuse you anymore.

They didn't talk to each other more than necessary and if they chatted then it would've been mostly about you.

”Look at her...sketching something and singing some random songs, completely unaware of her own cuteness.”

The first person to speak up was the red- and white-haired boy and it threw the other young man off, but upon seeing the gentle expression on his face Shinsou knew that both of them shared the same amount affection for you.

“If you think that’s cute then you should see the small dances she does when she’s sitting and sketching something, they are absolutely priceless and a must-see.”

Todoroki didn’t expect to get any kind of reaction from the purple-haired boy, but he surprisingly did and that made him feel like they had become a tad closer.

They were so embarrassed to have shown the other such a weak side of their own, so any other cute characteristic of yours wasn't discussed out loud, and telling it straight to your face had never been an option anyway. 

A decision both of them soon regretted…

The teachers decided to send some pupils from each class on a mission to strengthen their teamwork as well as to prepare them for times during which they had to work with heroes they didn't personally know.

When you guys arrived on site, pro-heroes like Mt. Lady paired each and every one of you into groups of three. Fortunately, you were in a team with Todoroki and Shinsou which made you extremely happy. 

Everything was calm and just like any other street patrol, no villain or suspicious activity in sight.

Then suddenly a tall and vicious man ran straight into you. Had it not been for the two guys behind you, your cute butt might’ve collided with the dirty asphalt. 

You wanted to apologize, but the moment both of your eyes met he quickly backed away, taking a fighting stance.

”(Y/N)...get behind us.”

”Things are about the get ugly.”

It was confusing to you at first, but one look down at your UA uniform answered every possible question you might've had.

Nevertheless, you obliged and let both of them take care of the situation since they were the ones with the quirks.

A few minutes passed and the whole situation had escalated. Shinsou and Todoroki had tried to calm the man down and persuade him with words, but he was too agitated already and one just couldn’t get through to him.

As of right now, you were hiding behind a car watching the fight unfold. Not being able to help these two ate you up from the inside, but on the plus side, it also made you think of ways you could jump in and support them.

If there is one thing the students for 1-H should know, then it’s to never leave for a mission without their babies!!   

Hatsume’s words seemed quite peculiar and funny to you back then, but now...you were extremely grateful for the advice. Right before All Might told you guys to dispatch, you made sure to pack some of your inventions with you. One of it was a handy machine gun that you conveniently managed to design in such a way that it fits into any pocket and upon pressing a small button, the item would unfold its massive size. Unfortunately, it was still a prototype and you hadn’t tested it yet, so there were bound to be some malfunctions that could even end deadly.

I have to at least help them somehow...no matter the cost!

You took all the courage you could muster and aimed right at the man’s massive frame.

“Shoto! Hitoshi! Move!!”

These two were lucky enough that your invention needed some time to heat up at first, giving them the opportunity to react and dodge the incoming rain of bullets.

———

“(Y/N)!”

“What were you thinking?!”

The voices that were screaming at you sounded so far away, yet they belonged to the two boys you loved so much. Right now they were crouching on each side of your body, holding it as gently as they could, in order to not make the injury - which was caused by your prototype of a weapon - worse than it already was. 

Your gun’s recoil had been stronger than you’d anticipated and with its very first shot, it had hit you right in your abdominal region, the repetitive motion tearing up your skin, leaving nothing behind but a big and bleeding wound that was the cause of your sudden blackout.

With that small bit of consciousness, you still managed to hold on to, you listened to the nagging that was coming from both sides. 

“How can you even bring a weapon to a mission you haven’t tested yet...let alone use it?!”

“We told you to stand back, so why...? Why would you do that, dummy?”

“What should I do if you had...died..? What should we do then, huh?!”

It was actually a very serious and sad moment to be in and that’s how you should’ve felt as well, but you didn’t. You smiled weakly and began singing in a low and raspy voice.

♪ “What you want from me...? I would say I'm sorry if I….really meant it…...fuck apologies I'm not perfect….I got pride...that's not what it is this time...so….” ♪ 

Before you could finish the song, the happiness that you were able to save them caused the last bit of power to leave your body and turn your vision blacker than the darkest night…

———

A week passed and you were still unconscious, worrying the two young men with each passing second, minute, hour during which their fear for you grew.

Recovery girl helped with her quirk as much as she could and even if she had healed your injury on the surface, the ‘waking-up’ part was entirely up to you.

They came up with a schedule and decided to take turns with visiting your hospital room, but one day when it was Shinsou’s turn he silently opened the door and the first thing he saw was the bicolored hair of a man he’d gotten to know more than he’d intended.  

Did he...stay here all night?

With slow and silent steps the purple-haired man took off his jacket and covered Shoto as gently as he could with it. 

Normally he wouldn’t have done that, but the time he’d spent with the both of you caused an unexpected change of heart. 

As careful as possible he positioned a chair on the other side of your bed, taking your small hand in his own bigger one, silently praying to the gods for you to soon wake up…

———

The nurse that was assigned to you was quite astonished when she heard about your case.

An inspiring scientist, trying to become the first person heroes turned to when they needed any supporting item, was ironically hospitalized by her own invention.

The bitter irony behind it was not only sad but fascinating at the same time, but what fascinated her the most was the scene that played out in front of her right now.

You had woken up from your long slumber and were now grinning from one ear to the other. 

Seeing that Shoto and Hitoshi had fallen asleep by your side was the best sight one could wake up to...

[sibillascribbles08]

Cinnamon and Ginger

Wrote some more Lloyd and Queenie, mostly just talkin... mostly

    Lloyd wasn’t sure what he expected to find in this ancient temple, but this certainly wasn’t it.

    For one he was surprised the temple was even in the labyrinth, as he didn’t remember seeing it when he came in here with his father. It was old, crumbling, covered in vines, but the interior seemed to be in better condition. There were carpets and tapestries along the walls. Hand carved chairs, plush cushions, and torches. Lloyd stared at it all along with the carvings in the stone. It reminded him of oni, but why was it here? 

    “Was this an oni temple?” Lloyd felt bold enough to ask. By now it was just him and the Oni Queen. Pythor and Machia, under orders, left the two of them alone. Despite the queen’s presence, Lloyd didn’t feel very threatened by it.

    “It was.” She glanced back, smiling at him. “Back then the forest wasn’t nearly so overgrown, however. I suspect the first master of nature had a hand in that, but I wasn’t here to witness it.”

    Lloyd frowned. “But why?”

    “To hide things. Why else build a labyrinth?” She turned all the way around, arms out. “Hiding a mask, a realm crystal, a few other things.” She led him into a room on the upper level. The sun poured in from the center, lighting up the entire space. There were lush carpets and cushions all along the floor and a small stone oven in the corner. On top of it sat a teapot and a set of cups. 

    “Please, sit.” She pointed. “Would you like some tea?”

    “You have tea?” This felt stranger and stranger by the minute. “Uh… what kind?”

    “I’ve collected some jasmine, oolong, peppermint… Oh! And I make this wonderful mixture with cinnamon and ginger.” 

    Lloyd didn’t want to admit that sounded nice. Everything about this felt so casual. He always expected if he did run into the leader of the oni there’d be some massive invasion, or a battle.

    Not tea time. 

    “I guess… whatever you’re making.” Lloyd mumbled and sat down on a few of the pillows. They were much softer than he expected. 

    The Queen made the tea in silence, or mostly silence. All while she worked she hummed a strange tune, and Lloyd could feel it having some kind of effect on him. His muscles relaxed, the tension left his jaw. He watched her light the fire with some flint. She opened a jar where she poured the tea leaves into the cups one by one. When the water in the pot boiled she took it off the heat, waiting a bit. 

    “Why aren’t you pouring the water?” Lloyd asked.

    “Too hot and we’ll scorch the leaves. Surely your uncle taught you this.” 

    Lloyd had never actually seen his uncle make tea. He just always seemed to have a new pot in hand. 

    Finally the Queen poured the water in the cups. She waved a finger, the cups levitating and following her as she came over to the cushions. 

    “How are you doing that?” Lloyd had to ask. If they got some details about her powers maybe it’d be easier to fight her later, if it came to that.

    “Not all of the elements you humans have came from dragons, you know.” She let the cups gently sit on the ground before she sat next to Lloyd. “Gravity is one oni reside over. So is sound,” she hummed, “and light.” With a snap of her fingers, small glowing orbs danced around her hands. “And more.” 

    Lloyd just stared back at her. Why were they never told that? “I thought oni could only destroy, not create.”

    “As I said before, there’s so much you don’t know.” She picked up her cup, breathing in the steam from it. “I guess I can’t entirely blame your teachers for the slander on our names. That war was not one of my better decisions.” She took a gentle sip. 

    “Um…” Lloyd picked up his own cup. “Which war, exactly?” 

    “Goodness, did they not even give you a basic history lesson?” She sneered. “Then again I doubt my son liked to talk about it much.” 

    “Mistaké told us that the dragon and oni fought over my grandfather but…” Lloyd thought for a moment. “She was there wasn’t she, during the war?”

    “Putting two and two together huh?” The Queen smiled. “Indeed, her gift with form made her a valuable spy, but I assume spending so much time among humans made her fond of them. She wasn’t the only one. Many members of my army defected.” She stared into her cup. “Again, I don’t blame them, but I best start at the beginning.” 

    Lloyd blinked when the room went dark. Where did the sun go? Before he could move to look at the sky lights snapped through the room, forming little figures in the dark. 

    “I’ll keep it short.” The Queen said as dragons and oni popped up on opposite sides. “In the first realm, before the others came into existence, our people were at odds. The dragons, while creators, could never manage the resources that we needed to survive. The fighting caused casualties on both sides. Eventually I grew tired of it, and tried to form a peace treaty by proposing a marriage with the queen of the dragons.”

    One of the oni and one of the dragons moved closer to each other in the center.

    “Wait.” Lloyd said. “You two actually got married? That ex-wife comment wasn’t a joke?”

    “I don’t joke about things like that. At any rate, relations between our people actually heavily improved, but that sadly all fell apart when our son came into the picture.”

    A smaller figure appeared between the oni and the dragon. All the lights in the room turned a violent red. 

    “I’m sure you heard about what happened after that. First there was the war between the oni and the dragons. My rage was fueled by the fact that my son sided with the dragons. But after some time in that war, he fled into this realm. My army chased after him.”

    The lights swirled in the room before reforming. Lloyd didn’t recognize the shape they took in the center. Was that supposed to be Ninjago? Tilting his head he realized it was, just how it looked before it split. 

    “Sadly, my goal at that point was mostly vengeance. I decided if I couldn’t build a life for my people in the first realm then we’d take over this one. I’m sure you know how that ended up.” Her sigh was long, sad. “I lost my generals. So many of my people ran and hid. Eventually those who still remained had no choice but to flee the realm.”

    “But you stayed?” Lloyd tried to read her expression in the dark, but he could only see her eyes. 

    “My goal has not changed, though I refuse to approach it as foolishly as I did in the past.” The sunlight came back as she turned to look at him. “My people can’t thrive in the departed realm. The first realm is no longer an option. This is the best place for us to put a foothold. And now I have the opportunity to try again.”

    “But I’m the only thing standing in your way.” Lloyd glared. “So you’re trying to convince me otherwise.” 

    The Queen studied him. “While it’s true that you hold just as much power as your grandfather, I’m not really concerned about you being in the way. You’ve hardly scratched the surface of your capabilities.” She sipped her tea. “But I would much rather us not be at odds. Family is an important thing to me Lloyd.”

    “What?” He stood up. “Are you kidding me? You sent an entire army after your son.”

    “You didn’t know him.” She sneered. “And I regret not approaching Garmadon or Wu, but with your father always around there was never an opportunity.” 

    “I don’t want to destroy anything.” Lloyd mumbled. “I don’t want to be responsible for that, I don’t…” He looked down in the mug, at his eyes that had turned red ever since that snake bit him. “I don’t want to end up like my father.” 

    “Are you ashamed of him?”

    “He used to be evil.” Lloyd snapped. “And he’s evil now, ever since Harumi brought him back.” 

    The Queen clicked her teeth, then drank her tea. “That wasn’t your father.”

    Lloyd blinked. “What?”

    “That wasn’t your father, that was another oni. His name is Efri, in fact. I sent him here to get hold of the realm crystal, but then we discovered the realm crystal was shattered. Not long after that he just… goes off on his own, blocks out my orders.” She sighed. “What is it about this realm that makes my soldiers leave? Then again he was very young.” She tapped her chin. 

    “That… wasn’t my father?” Lloyd mumbled. “But she summoned him!”

    “No, she summoned an oni.” The Queen chuckled. “A fancy spell I rewrote to suit her desires. Honestly now, using oni masks to summon a dead human? Does that sound quite right in your mind?”

    “Then what about my hair?” Lloyd pointed to his head. “And my mom?”

    “Your mom wasn’t necessary, but oni DNA is.” She looked into her now empty cup. “And normally it takes three other oni but the spirits of them would work just as well.” 

    “Spirits? The masks?” Lloyd put a hand on his head. This was starting to become too much information at once. 

    “Yes! Do you know where they are actually? I would like to talk to my generals.”

    “Uh, two of them broke.” Lloyd cringed, not sure how she would take the news.

    The Queen didn’t flinch. “Two of them? What of the third?”

    “I don’t know where the mask of vengeance went. We haven’t seen it since.”

    “Ah, vengeance, Odol.” She smiled. “Well he’ll be delightful to have back when I find him. But no matter, not the topic for now.” She pointed at Lloyd’s cup. “Drink some tea, you haven’t touched it.”

    Lloyd watched her get up and head over to refill her cup. He took a sip, the smell of cinnamon and ginger hitting his nose before it entered his mouth. It had a bit of spice to it, but was still soothing. 

    “You say you don’t want to destroy.” The Queen poured the hot water in the cup. “But I wouldn’t ask you too. Besides, Little Prince, Creation and Destruction are one in the same.” 

    Lloyd lowered the mug. “What do you mean?”

    “To create a house you must destroy some trees. To create a blanket you must shear a sheep. To create parchment you have to skin a beast.” She flashed a bit of a morbid smile at that comment. “Things don’t come from nothing. That’s why Creation and Destruction are balancing powers. Take something away, make something new, you understand.” 

    Lloyd kept drinking tea, thinking about it.

    “Let me ask this, how did the first realm look when you visited?”

    He blinked. “I didn’t but um… Kai described it as a wasteland. Like a desert.”

    She nodded as she came back over to sit on the cushions again. “Dragons can create all their resources, so they never bother to maintain it. I figured, since my people left, the balance was destroyed.” 

    “But you won’t go back.”

    “Heavens no.” She put a hand on her chest. “And get into another war with the dragons? Absolutely not.” 

    “But you’ll go to war with Ninjago.” 

    “There doesn’t have to be a war if you help me.” The Queen pointed at him. “Think about it, this could be the new peace treaty. We could recreate that balance.” 

    It sounded so good in theory, but Lloyd had trouble believing her that it was that simple. If the oni came over the citizens would panic, no doubt. If anyone lashed out, how would the oni take it? The oni were so much more powerful. People would die. 

    “I can see your doubts.” Those circles on her horns were glowing again. “Mind is another element that stems from us oni.” 

    Lloyd flinched and took a step back. 

    “Can I at least show what we’d be capable of?” The Queen grinned. “No citizens involved. You have my word.” 

    “Forgive me for not fully trusting that.” 

    The Queen put the cup down and put her hands together, bowing. “You have my word, Little Prince, no one will be harmed during this.” 

    Ugh, he hated how convincing she was. It had to be a trick. Oni were trickers, right? But damn, how could he argue with it. Arguing would just put more people at risk, wouldn’t it? And hey, if she showed him this maybe he’d get more powerful. Maybe he could fight back. 

    “Okay,” Lloyd mumbled. “Fine.” 

    “Grand.” She stood. “Then first thing is first, we have to get rid of these shackles.”

    Lloyd frowned. “Huh?” 

    She tapped her sharp nail against his chest. “You cling too tightly to your humanity, Little Prince. You’re so much more than that.” 

    Lloyd could hear his next heart beat. It shook his entire body and made his ears rings. He didn’t get the chance to figure out why it happened. Everything felt warm, like his blood was boiling. Sharp pain bloomed in his forehead. He gritted his teeth to try and alleviate the pain in his jaw. What the hell was happening? 

    He glanced at his hands to see his skin turning black. 

[koffeins-writing-archive]

Rusted Tree

[Old Commission for @princce7 ]

No birds were heard in the large forest. No rustling of leaves, not even little animals running about. Nothing but the wind whistling against branches could be heard. That same wind blew harshly against the trees, lifting dead leaves from muddied and graying grounds. A fog plaguing the sky, one so thick that it hindered all who crossed its path. That fog is how those same people would succumb to their death.

With their steps calm and silent, the tall being emerged from the trees, finally out of hiding. That familiar black suit covering his misshapen and lanky body, and a tie as red as his victims blood securely wrapped around his shirt collar. The air felt the same since the last time he had visited the area. Cold and heavy, coated with feelings of guilt, grief, and regret.

If Slenderman had the ability to smell, the winds would no doubt be riddled with sulfur and the rotten stench of decay.

He turned his head this way and that, though it was difficult to tell which direction he was looking in since he had no face. The man stepped farther out, exposing himself to the outside world even more. He knew that he wouldn’t be spotted by humans, there were probably even less in the town then last time.

It had been a long time since Slenderman had come to this realm.

As he wandered through the forest, the pungent odor slowly became more evident as he got closer to the edge of the forest.

He started down a dirt path that led to the ghost town. He glanced every so often at the odd beings that infested the streets. Monsters howling out in pain and fear, writhing in agony, hissing and moaning out in pain as they stumbled about. None would dare get close to Slenderman, and those that came close enough immediately moved away from him once they realized how close they really got. He could sense the monsters fears, and in a way it amused him.

Slenderman didn’t have much of a reaction to the creatures. He had dealt with beings much worse than these.

It seems like nothing has changed since the last time he had visited these grounds. Slenderman roamed the streets in silence as the town shrieked and roared all around. Blood on the pavement, rust inside buildings, and that infamous thick fog followed him. In a way, it reminded Slenderman of home, if home were a town full of screeching monsters of course. He stopped in front of one building, gazing up at it curiously. He knew of this building quite well. It’s where he had met ‘them’. As he scoured the building for the creature, Slenderman inspected the decay that had spread throughout it. Peeled paint, holes everywhere, and various stains coating any surface from the floors to the ceiling.

Slenderman had to crouch down to move around and not bump his head on anything.

It wasn’t long before Slenderman finally found them. A figure hunched over something, pulling back a large blade and swinging it back down with full force. Blood gushed upwards and out onto the floor with each impact of the blade. “There you are, I was wondering where you were.” Slenderman greeted.

The figure slowly rose up yet did not turn around. They instead lifted their blade and began to fiddle with it.

Slenderman walked over to the figure, his head tilted as he glanced behind them.

“I see that you’re hacking away at a monster again?” The man with a pyramid clamped over his head looked up from inspecting their blade. They dragged it along the floor, causing it to let out an irritating shriek as metal collided with old tiles. Slenderman knelt down to eye level with Pyramid Head. “You shouldn’t drag that thing on the floor, the blade will be ruined.” Pyramid Head just stared up at Slenderman, not saying anything. With a slump of his shoulders Slenderman just shook his head. “Why do I even bother with you? You never listen to a word I say.” He stood up once more, continuing to tower over Pyramid Head.

“Shall we head out then?”

Pyramid Head simply walked past Slenderman.

The same horrible scrape of metal against concrete returned as the two walked, it soon caused Slenderman to gaze down at his acquaintance. Watching him drag the old blade on the floor annoyed Slenderman. “Must you drag that around? Why not hoist it over your shoulder, or better yet: get a damn sheath large enough to put on your back.” He knew Pyramid Head wouldn’t listen to a single word he was saying. Slenderman was the one to make the most conversation out of the two of them.

The long walk through the building was mostly silent, except for the groaning of the walls and the shuffle of monsters scattered along the halls.

Pyramid Head stopped in his tracks. Slenderman grew quiet and tilted his head.

“Is something the matter?”

He looked up over Pyramid Head and noticed one of the bubble-head nurses stumbling around, blade in their hand. Slenderman looked back down to notice Pyramid Head taking a step towards the monster. He knew what they were going to do.

“Stop, don’t take anymore steps.” Slenderman spoke, placing a hand on Pyramid Head’s shoulder.

Without warning, Pyramid Head quickly swung his sword back, causing Slenderman to let go of him immediately.

Slenderman took a step back. His shoulders hunched and there was a tearing sound coming from his face. His skin was being ripped open, revealing a darkness that could not be described by man. The strange black substance poured from his, newly formed, mouth as he opened it wide to speak.

“How dare you swing that damned thing at me?” he roared loudly.

Pyramid Head was going to swing once more when he heard a loud screech from behind. He turned his head and watched the bubble-head nurse hobble towards them, slashing their blade back and forth. He fully turned his body and lifted his sword.

Slenderman went to grab the blade, but was too late.

Blood splashed against his suit as a horrible, ear-piercing cry of pain rang out from the nurse. He watched as Pyramid Head reached out to grab at the bleeding nurse.

“That is enough!” yelled Slenderman, quickly wrapping several tendrils around Pyramid Head and lifting them up from the floor.

Pyramid Head let out a low, cold groan as he was being twisted and turned this way and that until he was face to face with the tall monster.

“I have had it with your revolting behavior, and if I see you trying to assault another monster while I am here I will personally see to it that your limbs are ripped right off before I depart. Do you understand me?”

Pyramid Head stared back at the nothingness that was Slenderman’s face. His new mouth had gone away, his flesh appeared to be healed with no sign of tearing whatsoever.

Finally, Slenderman released Pyramid Head, causing him to land onto the ground with a harsh thud. The red pyramid on his head scraped across the floor as he climbed to his feet.

Slenderman knew that it was hopeless to persuade Pyramid Head out of doing something horrible to the monsters. They seemed mindless after all, so was there really any point in stopping him? Slenderman had no control over how this particular area worked, nor how things were to be.

Though it sickened him, he let it be. It was how the land, the town was meant to be. He stood over the stove, watching the old coffee machine gurgle and crank, groaning as it strained to use whatever salvageable power it had left. The mugs set beneath the nozzle were soon filled with old, heated coffee. Slenderman took the mugs and carried them over to the old bench where Pyramid Head was sitting. “Here you are, then.” Slenderman held out one of the mugs to the monster. Pyramid Head set down his blade, which was still covered in fresh blood, and took the mug into his hands. Slenderman sat down next to him. Though he really had no need to drink or eat human items, he still enjoyed the process of making those things. Heating up a kettle or watching a mug be filled with something sweet and hot. He liked the warmth against his cold hands. His mouth reformed, skin stretching and tearing, just enough for him to sip at the warm coffee. Bitter. Old. Perhaps a bit muddy in texture. He didn’t complain, it was most definitely expired by now, and he had no issues with drinking such things.

“You are someone who harasses the other monsters in this old town, something that I normally tear humans apart over. Do you not see how wrong that is? Or is it simply what you must do out of how this ‘James’ person acts and feels?” questioned Slenderman.

Pyramid Head looked down at the mug in its hands before shrugging their shoulders. They lift one hand up and gently move their hand up and down in a ‘kinda-sorta’ manner. Slenderman stared at the creature before letting out a sigh.

“I suppose if I were to be a manifestation of someone’s guilt and ultimate punishment, I’d be copying that person as well. He’s not laid a finger on anyone, yet his emotions and thoughts are what drives you to do these things, correct?”

Pyramid Head nodded, raising the mug up to the odd helmet-like object that was his head. The contents of the mug simply spilled out onto the ground. Slenderman stared for a moment longer, placing a hand to his newly formed mouth, as if to muffle a laugh.

“You’re indeed very strange…how did you think drinking that would even work with your head being closed off?”

Pyramid Head gave another shrug in response.

Slenderman moved a little closer to Pyramid Head, inspecting the large clunky pyramid attached to his head.

“Do you even have a head under there?”

Pyramid Head moved away at that, turning his head slightly in Slendermans direction. Slenderman moved back, repressing the chuckle that was bubbling in his throat.

“I’m certain you must have one, where else would your brain be?” Slenderman jested.

Pyramid Head responded by reaching for his blade, gripping the handle out of security.

“Now now, there’s no need for that. I apologize for the cruel banter…”

“I’m still very confused as to why you have to live in this strange place. Doesn’t it get boring? Or are you bound to this plane of existence?”

Pyramid Head kept his attention on cleaning up his blade, paying no attention to the chattery being sitting next to him. The old bench the two chose to sit down on held that same musty smell as the floor, possibly molded and having stains of blood on various spots of it.

“I can only imagine how tiring it must be to stuck here for such a long time. I wish I could bring you back to my realm…Or, maybe not, you’d try to kill everyone.”

Slenderman glanced back to Pyramid Head.

“You’ve been busying yourself with something, I hope?”

Pyramid Head stopped cleaning the large blade and finally looked up at Slenderman.

A slow nod, and a reach into one of the ratty pockets on his butchers apron. He held out a closed hand. Slenderman held out an open palm. A small mouse was dropped into Slendermans palm. The mouse sniffed about and started climbing up Slendermans arm before Slenderman carefully picked it up by its tail.

“I never thought you could be an animal person.” Slenderman spoke with a slight chuckle.

Pyramid Head held his hand out. Slenderman placed the little mouse down and watched as it trailed up Pyramid Heads arm and up to his head. The mouse sniffed and gently pressed it’s tiny face to the red contraption before making its way back to the old pocket it came from.

“Does it have a name?” Slenderman asked.

Pyramid Head shook his head.

He stood up from the bench and picked up his blade. Slenderman stood as well and followed Pyramid Head out of the building and onto the streets. Monsters howled out, some scattering as Pyramid Head headed in their direction.

“Where are we going?”

Pyramid Head continued on in silence as he lead Slenderman down a long road. There were fewer monsters along the path, and as the pair continued onward, the lack of monsters was more evident as the sounds of the town dwindled away.

The building up ahead had two stories, strange blue colored rooftops, and the building appeared to be built out of, old, cobblestone.

‘What is this place?’ thought Slenderman.

Pyramid Head reached out and gripped the doorknob, turning it. As the door swung open it popped away from the hinges and hit the floor with a loud crash. Pyramid Head ducked as he entered the building. Slenderman glanced over to the large sign on the building. ‘Silent Hill Historical Society’.

Slenderman followed, practically crouching down to enter. Taking a good look inside, it was safe to say that the building had definitely seen better days. The front set of doors had been pulled from their hinges. Slenderman wandered further into the building, seeing another set of doors, he opened them.

The next room was in shambles. Display cases were shattered. The most noticeable thing was the broken down wall, with stairs leading down to who knows where. Various photographs hung on the walls. Just as Slenderman was about to inspect the photos, he heard a loud crash from the first room.

He rushed back into the room to see Pyramid Head hunched over, shaking ever so slightly.

Slenderman took a cautious step forward.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

The closer he got, the worse Pyramid Head seemed. Shaking closed fists, glass beneath his feet. His blade propped up on one of the old display cases.

Slenderman looked up at what Pyramid Head was standing at. A strange tapestry hung on the wall. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Pyramid Head, or what looked like him at least, was standing in the tapestry as mangled corpses hung from cages. Slenderman looked to the plaque below the artwork.

‘Misty day, remains of the judgment’ it read. He looked from the plaque to the tapestry, then back to Pyramid Head.

“Is that you?” Slenderman asked.

Pyramid Head remained still.

“Is this why you brought me here?” Slenderman questioned.

Pyramid Head kept silent. He finally turned his head towards Slenderman.

Slenderman reached out and placed a hand on Pyramid Head’s shoulder, gripping it slightly as a means of comfort. Pyramid Head lifted his hand and put it over Slendermans, giving that same strength in his grip.

“Let’s…go and look at something else, alright?” Slenderman suggested.

Pyramid Head nodded, releasing Slendermans hand to pick up his blade. The pair left the room, glass crunching beneath their feet. They headed towards the second room with the various photographs on the walls.

“This place has quite the history. Shame it’s a literal hell hole.” Slenderman commented.

Slenderman glanced at a few of the photographs, humming quietly as he inspected them. He was about to comment on the photo he was currently viewing when he felt a tug at his hand. Looking down, he noticed Pyramid Head’s hand was holding onto his own. The grip less strong than before. Slenderman tilted his head up. Pyramid Head was still shaking, ever so slightly.

He remained silent as he carefully pulled Pyramid Head into his arms. Slenderman knew all too well that Pyramid Head wasn’t one to show emotion outwardly, so seeing him this way worried him greatly.

“I may not know all that you go through, but I want you to know that it’s not entirely your fault…Yes, you lash out at the other monsters, but that is in your nature to cause destruction and bring about judgment…I’m so sorry that you must live like this.”

Slenderman felt an arm around him, the weight of the red pyramid resting against his shoulder.

Leaving the historical building, Slenderman noticed that there was something falling from the sky. He held out his hand as black specks sprinkled onto his pale flesh. Ash.

“I heard about a siren going off every so often when there’s a change in this world…I suppose it’ll ring out soon?”

Pyramid Head gave a nod and pointed his blade outward towards the forest.

“Do you want me to leave before it goes off?”

Another nod.

Slenderman sighed and straightened up his shoulders. “I’m sad to say that I wasn’t able to spend more time here. Though, I’d prefer not to be stuck here forever.”

He turned to Pyramid Head, tendrils slowly escaping his back and laying on the cold ground.

“Goodbye then, try not to get yourself hurt while I’m gone, okay?”

Pyramid Head gave no reaction. He instead hoisted his blade up against his shoulder and made his way back towards the town.

Slenderman, with his tendrils now spread across the grounds, slowly rose with their aid. They creaked and cracked like tree branches. One set of tendrils reached out a long ways across, with the other set following, taking long stride after long stride across the town.

Slenderman watched beneath him as he moved, monsters were running about, howling and screaming. He moved quickly and was soon back to the edge of the forest. As his tendrils receded back into his suit and Slenderman sunk down to the ground once more, he took one last look out at the ghost town.

He would miss it, somehow.

Slenderman turned towards the large forest and made his way through, watching as a few small animals ran about to look for safety and shelter from the changes the siren would bring.

As he disappeared past some trees, the siren rung out in a loud drone.

[koffein-art-archive]

Rusted Tree

(Commission for @princce7 )

No birds were heard in the large forest. No rustling of leaves, not even little animals running about. Nothing but the wind whistling against branches could be heard. That same wind blew harshly against the trees, lifting dead leaves from muddied and graying grounds. A fog plaguing the sky, one so thick that it hindered all who crossed its path. That fog is how those same people would succumb to their death.

With their steps calm and silent, the tall being emerged from the trees, finally out of hiding. That familiar black suit covering his misshapen and lanky body, and a tie as red as his victims blood securely wrapped around his shirt collar. The air felt the same since the last time he had visited the area. Cold and heavy, coated with feelings of guilt, grief, and regret.

If Slenderman had the ability to smell, the winds would no doubt be riddled with sulfur and the rotten stench of decay.

He turned his head this way and that, though it was difficult to tell which direction he was looking in since he had no face. The man stepped farther out, exposing himself to the outside world even more. He knew that he wouldn't be spotted by humans, there were probably even less in the town then last time.

It had been a long time since Slenderman had come to this realm.

As he wandered through the forest, the pungent odor slowly became more evident as he got closer to the edge of the forest.

He started down a dirt path that led to the ghost town. He glanced every so often at the odd beings that infested the streets. Monsters howling out in pain and fear, writhing in agony, hissing and moaning out in pain as they stumbled about. None would dare get close to Slenderman, and those that came close enough immediately moved away from him once they realized how close they really got. He could sense the monsters fears, and in a way it amused him.

Slenderman didn’t have much of a reaction to the creatures. He had dealt with beings much worse than these.

It seems like nothing has changed since the last time he had visited these grounds. Slenderman roamed the streets in silence as the town shrieked and roared all around. Blood on the pavement, rust inside buildings, and that infamous thick fog followed him. In a way, it reminded Slenderman of home, if home were a town full of screeching monsters of course. He stopped in front of one building, gazing up at it curiously. He knew of this building quite well. It’s where he had met ‘them’. As he scoured the building for the creature, Slenderman inspected the decay that had spread throughout it. Peeled paint, holes everywhere, and various stains coating any surface from the floors to the ceiling.

Slenderman had to crouch down to move around and not bump his head on anything.

It wasn’t long before Slenderman finally found them. A figure hunched over something, pulling back a large blade and swinging it back down with full force. Blood gushed upwards and out onto the floor with each impact of the blade. “There you are, I was wondering where you were.” Slenderman greeted.

The figure slowly rose up yet did not turn around. They instead lifted their blade and began to fiddle with it.

Slenderman walked over to the figure, his head tilted as he glanced behind them.

“I see that you’re hacking away at a monster again?” The man with a pyramid clamped over his head looked up from inspecting their blade. They dragged it along the floor, causing it to let out an irritating shriek as metal collided with old tiles. Slenderman knelt down to eye level with Pyramid Head. “You shouldn’t drag that thing on the floor, the blade will be ruined.” Pyramid Head just stared up at Slenderman, not saying anything. With a slump of his shoulders Slenderman just shook his head. “Why do I even bother with you? You never listen to a word I say.” He stood up once more, continuing to tower over Pyramid Head.

“Shall we head out then?”

Pyramid Head simply walked past Slenderman.

The same horrible scrape of metal against concrete returned as the two walked, it soon caused Slenderman to gaze down at his acquaintance. Watching him drag the old blade on the floor annoyed Slenderman. “Must you drag that around? Why not hoist it over your shoulder, or better yet: get a damn sheath large enough to put on your back.” He knew Pyramid Head wouldn’t listen to a single word he was saying. Slenderman was the one to make the most conversation out of the two of them.

The long walk through the building was mostly silent, except for the groaning of the walls and the shuffle of monsters scattered along the halls.

Pyramid Head stopped in his tracks. Slenderman grew quiet and tilted his head.

“Is something the matter?”

He looked up over Pyramid Head and noticed one of the bubble-head nurses stumbling around, blade in their hand. Slenderman looked back down to notice Pyramid Head taking a step towards the monster. He knew what they were going to do.

“Stop, don’t take anymore steps.” Slenderman spoke, placing a hand on Pyramid Head’s shoulder.

Without warning, Pyramid Head quickly swung his sword back, causing Slenderman to let go of him immediately.

Slenderman took a step back. His shoulders hunched and there was a tearing sound coming from his face. His skin was being ripped open, revealing a darkness that could not be described by man. The strange black substance poured from his, newly formed, mouth as he opened it wide to speak.

“How dare you swing that damned thing at me?” he roared loudly.

Pyramid Head was going to swing once more when he heard a loud screech from behind. He turned his head and watched the bubble-head nurse hobble towards them, slashing their blade back and forth. He fully turned his body and lifted his sword.

Slenderman went to grab the blade, but was too late.

Blood splashed against his suit as a horrible, ear-piercing cry of pain rang out from the nurse. He watched as Pyramid Head reached out to grab at the bleeding nurse.

“That is enough!” yelled Slenderman, quickly wrapping several tendrils around Pyramid Head and lifting them up from the floor.

Pyramid Head let out a low, cold groan as he was being twisted and turned this way and that until he was face to face with the tall monster.

“I have had it with your revolting behavior, and if I see you trying to assault another monster while I am here I will personally see to it that your limbs are ripped right off before I depart. Do you understand me?”

Pyramid Head stared back at the nothingness that was Slenderman’s face. His new mouth had gone away, his flesh appeared to be healed with no sign of tearing whatsoever.

Finally, Slenderman released Pyramid Head, causing him to land onto the ground with a harsh thud. The red pyramid on his head scraped across the floor as he climbed to his feet.

Slenderman knew that it was hopeless to persuade Pyramid Head out of doing something horrible to the monsters. They seemed mindless after all, so was there really any point in stopping him? Slenderman had no control over how this particular area worked, nor how things were to be.

Though it sickened him, he let it be. It was how the land, the town was meant to be. He stood over the stove, watching the old coffee machine gurgle and crank, groaning as it strained to use whatever salvageable power it had left. The mugs set beneath the nozzle were soon filled with old, heated coffee. Slenderman took the mugs and carried them over to the old bench where Pyramid Head was sitting. “Here you are, then.” Slenderman held out one of the mugs to the monster. Pyramid Head set down his blade, which was still covered in fresh blood, and took the mug into his hands. Slenderman sat down next to him. Though he really had no need to drink or eat human items, he still enjoyed the process of making those things. Heating up a kettle or watching a mug be filled with something sweet and hot. He liked the warmth against his cold hands. His mouth reformed, skin stretching and tearing, just enough for him to sip at the warm coffee. Bitter. Old. Perhaps a bit muddy in texture. He didn’t complain, it was most definitely expired by now, and he had no issues with drinking such things.

“You are someone who harasses the other monsters in this old town, something that I normally tear humans apart over. Do you not see how wrong that is? Or is it simply what you must do out of how this ‘James’ person acts and feels?” questioned Slenderman.

Pyramid Head looked down at the mug in its hands before shrugging their shoulders. They lift one hand up and gently move their hand up and down in a ‘kinda-sorta’ manner. Slenderman stared at the creature before letting out a sigh.

“I suppose if I were to be a manifestation of someone’s guilt and ultimate punishment, I’d be copying that person as well. He’s not laid a finger on anyone, yet his emotions and thoughts are what drives you to do these things, correct?”

Pyramid Head nodded, raising the mug up to the odd helmet-like object that was his head. The contents of the mug simply spilled out onto the ground. Slenderman stared for a moment longer, placing a hand to his newly formed mouth, as if to muffle a laugh.

“You’re indeed very strange…how did you think drinking that would even work with your head being closed off?”

Pyramid Head gave another shrug in response.

Slenderman moved a little closer to Pyramid Head, inspecting the large clunky pyramid attached to his head.

“Do you even have a head under there?”

Pyramid Head moved away at that, turning his head slightly in Slendermans direction. Slenderman moved back, repressing the chuckle that was bubbling in his throat.

“I’m certain you must have one, where else would your brain be?” Slenderman jested.

Pyramid Head responded by reaching for his blade, gripping the handle out of security.

“Now now, there’s no need for that. I apologize for the cruel banter...”

“I’m still very confused as to why you have to live in this strange place. Doesn’t it get boring? Or are you bound to this plane of existence?”

Pyramid Head kept his attention on cleaning up his blade, paying no attention to the chattery being sitting next to him. The old bench the two chose to sit down on held that same musty smell as the floor, possibly molded and having stains of blood on various spots of it.

“I can only imagine how tiring it must be to stuck here for such a long time. I wish I could bring you back to my realm...Or, maybe not, you’d try to kill everyone.”

Slenderman glanced back to Pyramid Head.

“You’ve been busying yourself with something, I hope?”

Pyramid Head stopped cleaning the large blade and finally looked up at Slenderman.

A slow nod, and a reach into one of the ratty pockets on his butchers apron. He held out a closed hand. Slenderman held out an open palm. A small mouse was dropped into Slendermans palm. The mouse sniffed about and started climbing up Slendermans arm before Slenderman carefully picked it up by its tail.

“I never thought you could be an animal person.” Slenderman spoke with a slight chuckle.

Pyramid Head held his hand out. Slenderman placed the little mouse down and watched as it trailed up Pyramid Heads arm and up to his head. The mouse sniffed and gently pressed it’s tiny face to the red contraption before making its way back to the old pocket it came from.

“Does it have a name?” Slenderman asked.

Pyramid Head shook his head.

He stood up from the bench and picked up his blade. Slenderman stood as well and followed Pyramid Head out of the building and onto the streets. Monsters howled out, some scattering as Pyramid Head headed in their direction.

“Where are we going?”

Pyramid Head continued on in silence as he lead Slenderman down a long road. There were fewer monsters along the path, and as the pair continued onward, the lack of monsters was more evident as the sounds of the town dwindled away.

The building up ahead had two stories, strange blue colored rooftops, and the building appeared to be built out of, old, cobblestone.

‘What is this place?’ thought Slenderman.

Pyramid Head reached out and gripped the doorknob, turning it. As the door swung open it popped away from the hinges and hit the floor with a loud crash. Pyramid Head ducked as he entered the building. Slenderman glanced over to the large sign on the building. ‘Silent Hill Historical Society’.

Slenderman followed, practically crouching down to enter. Taking a good look inside, it was safe to say that the building had definitely seen better days. The front set of doors had been pulled from their hinges. Slenderman wandered further into the building, seeing another set of doors, he opened them.

The next room was in shambles. Display cases were shattered. The most noticeable thing was the broken down wall, with stairs leading down to who knows where. Various photographs hung on the walls. Just as Slenderman was about to inspect the photos, he heard a loud crash from the first room.

He rushed back into the room to see Pyramid Head hunched over, shaking ever so slightly.

Slenderman took a cautious step forward.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

The closer he got, the worse Pyramid Head seemed. Shaking closed fists, glass beneath his feet. His blade propped up on one of the old display cases.

Slenderman looked up at what Pyramid Head was standing at. A strange tapestry hung on the wall. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Pyramid Head, or what looked like him at least, was standing in the tapestry as mangled corpses hung from cages. Slenderman looked to the plaque below the artwork.

‘Misty day, remains of the judgment’ it read. He looked from the plaque to the tapestry, then back to Pyramid Head.

“Is that you?” Slenderman asked.

Pyramid Head remained still.

“Is this why you brought me here?” Slenderman questioned.

Pyramid Head kept silent. He finally turned his head towards Slenderman.

Slenderman reached out and placed a hand on Pyramid Head’s shoulder, gripping it slightly as a means of comfort. Pyramid Head lifted his hand and put it over Slendermans, giving that same strength in his grip.

“Let’s...go and look at something else, alright?” Slenderman suggested.

Pyramid Head nodded, releasing Slendermans hand to pick up his blade. The pair left the room, glass crunching beneath their feet. They headed towards the second room with the various photographs on the walls.

“This place has quite the history. Shame it’s a literal hell hole.” Slenderman commented.

Slenderman glanced at a few of the photographs, humming quietly as he inspected them. He was about to comment on the photo he was currently viewing when he felt a tug at his hand. Looking down, he noticed Pyramid Head’s hand was holding onto his own. The grip less strong than before. Slenderman tilted his head up. Pyramid Head was still shaking, ever so slightly.

He remained silent as he carefully pulled Pyramid Head into his arms. Slenderman knew all too well that Pyramid Head wasn’t one to show emotion outwardly, so seeing him this way worried him greatly.

“I may not know all that you go through, but I want you to know that it’s not entirely your fault...Yes, you lash out at the other monsters, but that is in your nature to cause destruction and bring about judgment...I’m so sorry that you must live like this.”

Slenderman felt an arm around him, the weight of the red pyramid resting against his shoulder.

Leaving the historical building, Slenderman noticed that there was something falling from the sky. He held out his hand as black specks sprinkled onto his pale flesh. Ash.

“I heard about a siren going off every so often when there’s a change in this world...I suppose it’ll ring out soon?”

Pyramid Head gave a nod and pointed his blade outward towards the forest.

“Do you want me to leave before it goes off?”

Another nod.

Slenderman sighed and straightened up his shoulders. “I’m sad to say that I wasn’t able to spend more time here. Though, I’d prefer not to be stuck here forever.”

He turned to Pyramid Head, tendrils slowly escaping his back and laying on the cold ground.

“Goodbye then, try not to get yourself hurt while I’m gone, okay?”

Pyramid Head gave no reaction. He instead hoisted his blade up against his shoulder and made his way back towards the town.

Slenderman, with his tendrils now spread across the grounds, slowly rose with their aid. They creaked and cracked like tree branches. One set of tendrils reached out a long ways across, with the other set following, taking long stride after long stride across the town.

Slenderman watched beneath him as he moved, monsters were running about, howling and screaming. He moved quickly and was soon back to the edge of the forest. As his tendrils receded back into his suit and Slenderman sunk down to the ground once more, he took one last look out at the ghost town.

He would miss it, somehow.

Slenderman turned towards the large forest and made his way through, watching as a few small animals ran about to look for safety and shelter from the changes the siren would bring.

As he disappeared past some trees, the siren rung out in a loud drone.

[Want to commission me? Here!]

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: The Shining Beacon Part 2

I miss RWBY. Specifically, I miss early RWBY when there was less drama (not really but let me pretend), so let’s head on back to Volume 1.

In our opening scene of Episode 3, Ruby and Jaune have managed to find the hall where the rest of the newbies are meeting and honestly? I’m super proud of them for it. These are the two fools who will later argue over who had the map while wandering around the wilds of Remnant. Baby leaders managing to find the rest of their flock? Great job. Well done. Mama’s proud.

This little time skip raises some questions though. Did they ever find the Beacon cafeteria? What else did they chat about the rest of the day? Yang makes it sound like they’ve been gone a number of hours and I for one would love to know what awkward Ruby and even-more-awkward Jaune got up to during that time.

Tis the realm of fics though, not canon. Instead we get another shot of RWBY’s infamous shadow people with Yang standing out like the goddamn sun.

Who could the main character possibly be??

Beats me. What a gosh darn difficult question.

Yang: Ruby! I saved you a spot.

Are... are there spots, Yang? You’re all standing in a giant auditorium. If Ruby comes to stand beside you is another student gonna throw a fit about it? I mean real talk, I went to watch the changing of the guard while spending a month in London and let me tell you, there were people who guarded their spots like a pissed off bird guarding her eggs. (For the record you couldn’t even see anything. This was just human prickliness at its finest). So who knows, maybe Yang knows precisely what she’s doing.

Ruby abandons Jaune to join her, which on the one hand is kinda mean—you can’t invite your new friend to stand around with you?—but Ruby does say she’ll “see [him] after the ceremony,” so that’s nice and all. I know my anxious ass would have been thrilled to hear someone making future plans like that, even if it’s mostly just a nicety. Making new friends is hard.

Of course, Jaune doesn’t make that job any easier on himself. I’ve written before about his Nice Guy tendencies in the early volumes and they come back in full force here. He bemoans Ruby’s leave, asking himself where he’ll find “another nice, quirky girl to talk to?” It’s an easy introduction for Pyrrha, revealing her behind Jaune and quite obviously setting her up as that “nice, quirky” girl who he’ll become closest to as the episodes progress, but jeez, Manic Pixy Girl assumptions abound. Especially given the fact that Jaune/Pyrrha became canon in Volume 3. Obviously Pyrrha will be written with great depth as RWBY continues, but it does rankle a bit to have her introduced as a Ruby stand-in, someone positioned as a way of fulfilling Jaune’s ridiculous “needs.” I’m glad this is undermined later when she takes initiative towards him, i.e. saving him during initiation and angling to be his partner. Her interest is clear even if at that point Jaune will take anyone pretty: Ruby, Weiss, Pyrrha herself.

But I digress.

Ruby gives her whole spiel about meeting Weiss and Yang’s response is, “Yikes. Meltdown already?” heavily implying that she expected Ruby to have a “meltdown” at this school, just not so soon. Which—iffy terminology aside—isn’t at all surprising. RWBY does an excellent job of setting up Ruby’s nerves, from her “bee’s knees” comment to her eagerness in showing Weiss exactly what she’s capable of. The girl is desperate for validation—as is the whole RWBYJNPR gang, in their own ways—and a lot of that comes out as anxious, social awkwardness. If Ruby was at all inclined towards “meltdowns” at Signal then I’d say she did a damn good job holding herself together through everything that happened at Beacon. Granted, being put in a position of power will help with that, at least on a surface level. To semi-quote Oz, how can you expect others to put forth their best if you’re not constantly doing the same? Ruby has the veneer of self-control down now because she had to for her team... which makes me anticipate her inevitable breaking point all the more. We saw in Volume Six how close Ruby got to dropping her ‘I’m an endlessly put together leader’ persona with Qrow drinking himself to oblivion, but she never quite got there. I’m waiting (hoping really) that Ruby’s long-established anxiety will finally be addressed, what with Yang having made good headway in that department and all the shit they’ve gone through adding up to a very justified breakdown.

Let the poor girl really falter for once and let the rest of the group grapple with that. Everyone deserves it.

I’m jumping six volumes ahead though. Here and now Ruby is still telling Yang all about her horrible encounter, segueing into how she “just wanted her to stop yelling” which of course is the perfect moment for Weiss to sneak up behind her with a loud “YOU!” (Jaune’s comment linking to Pyrrha; Ruby’s comment linking to Weiss—RT enjoys writing these little bridges, particularly for introducing new characters).

I love this moment simply for how much it tells us about Weiss. Largely in retrospect. Because while her trailer song is definitely on the nose in some respects—“I’m the loneliest of all”—it’s not until later on that we realize exactly how abusive Weiss’ family is and how isolated she’s been for the whole of her upbringing. This girl has absolutely no experience interacting with people outside of the Schnee/everyone else hierarchy (note in a moment how she assumes that Ruby will want to “make it up to [her]”) so if you’re suddenly surrounded by people for the first time who aren’t fawning over your name and money and dust connections... what do you? How do you get some vaguely positive attention? Oh okay, guess I’ll force it! Here Weiss is claiming that she never wants Ruby to speak to her again, but she’s the one who barged in on their conversation and loudly drawing attention to herself. Weiss is starved for healthy validation while simultaneously stuck in the behavior she’s been taught: asking for attention solely by trying to show off— here’s a rambling summary of the Schnee Dust Company’s disclaimer look at what a good puppet I am—or by insulting others. Weiss mocks Ruby’s genuine offer to buy school supplies together but then doesn’t move away from her and Yang once the announcements start. She doesn’t know how to say ‘yes’ to any offers of friendship, but she also doesn’t want to say ‘no.’

Interestingly, that moment also tells us a fair bit about Ruby. Not just by re-emphasizing how kind she is by extending the offer to start this relationship over, but also adding weight to the headcanon that Ruby is neurodivergent. Weiss’ heavy sarcasm about how they can “go shopping, paint our nails, and talk about cute boys” goes right over Ruby’s head. She responds with a “Wow! Really?” similar to the “...can you?” heard right before she attacks the Nevermore during initiation. Ruby has a history of not just being awkward but missing a lot of ‘normal’ social cues as well.

The girls’ bonding is interrupted when Ozpin begins his speech and boy oh boy do I love this moment too. Anyone who reads my metas knows that I’m a firm defender of our disaster headmaster, especially after volume 6, and looking back this scene is the PERFECT example of how RT tries to make Ozpin seem shady... while really failing to accomplish that. Obscuring eyes/the whole face is a super easy way to tell the viewer that this is an Untrustworthy Character. See: every horror movie where the villain’s face is obscured by shadows, our own dear Adam who keeps his face hidden with a mask, etc. It serves to dehumanize the character, keeping us from seeing some of the most expressive parts of their bodies, and equates one thing they’re hiding—such as a deformity. Yay ableism! /s—with other things they’re keeping from the heroes; secrets, sinister intentions, and the like. The primary exception to this are characters who wear masks for defined and morally acceptable reasons. i.e. superheroes who need to keep their secret identities intact and, notably, aren’t withholding that information from the viewer. We as the audience usually know who they are and thus aren’t inclined to distrust the character based on secret-keeping.

Awesome superpowers aside, Ozpin doesn’t fit within the mold of superhero, so all of this reads as pretty damning:

Like holy shit, friends. With the exception of one moment, 

notably when Ozpin informs them that “knowledge will only carry you so far,” the cinematography goes out of its way to hide his eyes, if not his entire face. Oz comes across as super shady here, compounded by the close up and centered shot of Ruby’s silver eyes to contrast. Compounded further by the exchange Ruby and Yang have afterwards about how he seemed “kind of off”—an exchange that doesn’t precisely fit with in-world logic (how does Yang know what Ozpin is normally like?), but serves as a clear message to the viewer: Something is UP with this guy.

The problem? This isn’t Ozpin’s introduction.

Imagine a series where in Episode One we only hear about a powerful Beacon headmaster. Someone who bends the rules and let’s Ruby in two years early for reasons unknown. Then by Episode Three we see this guy almost insulting the new group of students (Yang’s eyes narrow when Ozpin says he sees only “wasted energy in need of purpose”) and the entire time the camera refuses to give us a good look at him. That would have set up a character who is legitimately creepy. Someone we know instinctively might not really be on our side.

Instead our introduction to Ozpin is this.

He’s smiling and charming and legitimately kind. He listens to why Ruby wants to come to Beacon before making his decision (aka establishing her agency here). He shares a fond “Aww, you know I’m gonna get what I want” look with Glynda. He brings cookies, for god’s sake. Ozpin’s supposed shadiness falls completely flat here because we’ve already developed positive feelings for him, notably while he was with our protagonist and his BFF headmistress. The intimacy in Episode One implies that this is the “real” Ozpin, whereas a formal speech in front of (from the audience’s perspective) a literally faceless mass sets this up as a “fake” Ozpin, one that comes out when he feels the needs to be stern with incoming students. Or, based on information we learn later, when he’s pulling from another personality.

All of which isn’t a criticism of RT’s writing. Rather, given what we now know definitively from Volume Six, I don’t think they were invested in making Ozpin into a legitimately shady character. What RWBY is invested in is poking at or outright dismantling a lot of tropes and conventions, which is essentially what they did here. “You EXPECT the secretive, powerful headmaster to be a morally gray kind of guy... so we’re just not even gonna go there. Not really.”

But back to the actual plot. Jaune ends the scene by sliding up and announcing that he’s a natural blonde, another excellent example of precisely the thing women aren’t looking for in a guy. He knows Ruby now so it’s totally cool for him to re-join her, but using that as an excuse to start talking about his looks? Nah. Remember folks, women generally like it when you treat them as more than just a romantic and/or sexual conquest!

But enough about Jaune. We cut to that night where all the newbie students—way more than we’ll actually see throughout the rest of the series—are crowded together in Beacon’s hall, which from a world building perspective is a really great choice. I love what it says about Beacon as an institution: We’re not giving you rooms yet because we believe that most of you will fail the initiation (or at least that’s the impression they want to give the students). There’s a sense of ‘roughing it’ with simple mats and no personal space, the sort of things they’d have to get used to if they’re out traveling as huntsmen later in life. The overall emphasis on community and team work. Like the teams of four, Beacon is invested in setting up situations where the students are forced to work with one another. Particularly with those they might otherwise avoid.

That’s precisely the sort of interaction we get in a moment, but first: a tangent. Okay. So in previous metas—mostly Volume Six stuff—I’ve gotten a lot of pushback for my use of the term “kids” to describe the RWBY gang. Which I get. Post-Beacon most of them are legally adults by our standards and they’re certainly doing Adult Things nowadays. I do think there’s a lot of interesting nuances here—the fact that our protagonist and arguably most significant character plot-wise (Oscar) are both still underage, asking whether Remnant even views age in the same way we do, whether hitting the magical age of 18 suddenly gives you any more insight or maturity than you had at 17 or 16, acknowledging that they were never meant to be out in the world fighting this war and making these decisions yet, so we shouldn’t conflate traumatic necessity with emotional growth—but for the most part fans don’t want to grapple with those sorts of questions. There’s a knee-jerk reaction (particularly from those who are around the group’s age) of, “Most of them are 18. They’re not kids so stop acting like they are.” RWBY has raised a lot of questions for me regarding how I balance “Kids/teens/young adults are people with agency and more maturity than people tend to give them credit for” with “I remember how much of a kid I still was at 18 and know precisely how much I’ve grown in the decade since. I was not an adult then, no matter what the law said.” It’s a matter of acknowledging generational experience without turning into one of those, “Bah! Kids don’t know what the hell they’re talking about” curmudgeons. I’m an adult with a father who dismisses everything I say because he’s got—and will always have—50+ years on me. I’m well aware that it sucks.

Why am I bringing all this up again? Because this scene is just so kid-ish. It’s wonderfully young and carefree! Ruby is writing a letter to her friends in cutesy grimm PJs. Yang slides over with a comment about how it’s just like a sleepover. They acknowledge that Tai would not be pleased with all the boys around while Yang ogles the shirtless guys and Jaune wanders around in a footed one piece. This entire scene has a distinctly middle school or early high-school vibe. Not that adults don’t hang out and chat in super comfy PJs—we totally do—but rather that viewers know how scenes like these are coded. They’re supposed to look young here and even though experience has most certainly aged them, even though about two years have passed since this moment... that’s still only two years. I have a difficult time accepting that we should now view the group’s decisions as irrevocably Adult and Mature (cough-airship-cough) when such a short time ago they weren’t either of these things. And they weren’t meant to be those things. Not yet. I wish that these later Volumes of RWBY were more interested in exploring the concept of (yes) kids forced into the role of adults, as opposed to trying desperately to pretend that they’re adults already with a more worthwhile voice than people with 10, 20, or in Ozpin’s case, a 1,000 years more experience than them.

Anyway. Enough ranting for one recap.

Ruby shares her fears about not making any friends and Yang has her “You’ve just made one friend and one enemy!” line before giving her little sis a legitimate pep-talk. She explains that there are friends all around Ruby, “you just haven’t met them yet.” A near identical perspective to what we heard from Jaune last episode. Which is hilarious given that ten seconds ago Yang was pseudo-insulting the guy.

Seriously though, how is there not more Jaune-Yang interaction in canon? They’re got so much more in common than just blonde hair and anger management issues.

Cue another segue. Right after Yang finishes talking about future friends Ruby catches a sound off screen and we get our first look at Blake since the courtyard.

Yang quite literally drags Ruby over and it is an excellent display of siblings being siblings.

Blake recognizes Ruby as “the girl who exploded” and honestly I’m sad that this didn’t become a moniker for her in the same way “vomit boy” did for Jaune. Nothing like being defined by your embarrassing moments and ridiculous habits to encourage true bonding! My BFF calls me Trout and I call her Hunter and no, I will not expand on the ridiculousness that was my middle school years.

I mean, Ruby starts to tell Blake that she can call her crater face before realizing that this might not be the best idea. The girl is awkward af and I love her.

Yang: What are you doing??

Ruby: I don’t know help me!

God they’re so fucking relatable.

Yang manages to get Blake’s name out of her and then makes the mistake of commenting on her bow. Granted, Blake doesn’t show any overt signs of discomfort here—that would have been too obvious even by RWBY’s standards—but looking back we can assume that any conversation veering towards the one thing she wants to hide wouldn’t exactly endear her to these girls. Blake gets pretty rude by saying that she’ll continue to enjoy her book just as soon as they leave. Yang gets ruder by announcing, right next to Blake, that she’s a “lost cause.”

The book is Ruby’s in though. Now it’s less small talk and more legit interest as she asks what Blake is reading. The fandom has acknowledge to death the “It’s about a man with two souls, fighting for control” line and how that obviously relates to the Ozpin-Oscar situation, but beyond that I’m interested in the fact that we never learn the title of this book. Normally that wouldn’t mean much (only so much world building you can do and book titles aren’t necessarily the sort of thing RT wants to waste time on), except that Ruby specifically asks for it and Blake delves straight into the summary. I wonder if perhaps this specific text will show up again in future volumes. I don’t have any real evidence for the hunch, just the fact that we now know Ozpin has put stories out into the world that relate to his situation, namely The Maidens fairy tale. I have to wonder if perhaps other lives of his created art as a way of coping with their situation—unknowingly truthful accounts that people like Blake read, oblivious to the ways that this fiction might be setting them up to be more empathetic towards the same situation in real life. It just stands out to me that we’re not given a title or author here; that Blake was one of the ones to learn about Ozpin’s immortality off screen (denying us her initial reaction); that comparatively she was one of the more sympathetic during that awful moment out in the snow. It would be awesome if the “lol Blake is a nerd who sometimes reads porn” aspect of her personality actually sets her up to be one of the more understanding people in Volume 7.

Basically, please give me super nerd Blake who starts warming back up to Ozpin because she finds out he’s authored a bunch of her favorite books lol. Or at the very least she realizes that she’s now living the stories she’s long adored; she’s been given the opportunity to extend real support to someone so very like the characters she’s felt for all these years...

RWBY does love its meta.

Ruby admits to loving books too, particularly the fantastical stories that Yang used to read her. Blake is far more pessimistic.

Blake: Hoping you’ll live happily ever after? 

Ruby: I’m hoping we all will.

Hello, conflict of the entire series. As well as many fans’ hope for how it will all turn out. I’m personally not at all interested in a 7+ year investment with this cast only to watch them end on a bleak, or even bittersweet note. Despite what some might claim nowadays, happy endings are far from overrated. Given the state of the world, happy endings are radical.

Blake tells Ruby that her dreams are “Very ambitious for a child,” one of the very few indicators we’ve gotten (along with Weiss’ “Aren’t you a little young to be here?”) that the rest of the students recognize on sight that Ruby is younger than them. I’ve literally never heard one child refer to another, same-age acquaintance as “child.” Especially not when they’re hinting strongly that they’re being naive.

Yang is SUPER proud of that optimism though and starts a tackle hug that leads to them fighting cartoon style, complete with stars, cat noises, and dust clouds. The racket of course brings Weiss over. And by “of course” I mean “Oh look, another excuse she can use to go talk to the only people she knows here.”

We get another handful of great lines—Ruby has known Weiss a day but she was “always on [her] side,” Weiss exclaims that Ruby is “a hazard to [her] health”—but the episode is basically over. Blake blows out her candles and that’s that.

Meanwhile, I can’t believe I just wrote nearly four thousand words on a six minute episode. I’m gonna go re-think my life choices.

Minor Things of Note

“You’re lucky we weren’t blown off the side of the cliff!” Hey there, episode four foreshadowing! Also, Weiss, you guys are nowhere near a cliff. You’re so dramatic.

You can really see the difference in their expressions when Oz gives his speech. Ruby and Yang looked pumped and joyous. Weiss is anxious and unsure.

Still super interested in Ozpin actually using his cane as he leaves the stage. Probably just a random animation choice before they worked out all his character kinks, but if we imagine that his host was currently speaking maybe that’s a quirk specific to him.

We never again hear about “the gang back at Signal” that Ruby is writing to. Just like we never see the friends Yang apparently entered Beacon with (and weren’t meant to given that they were also shadow people). Not that RWBY needs any more characters to keep track of, but from an in-world perspective it is a little strange that they were supposedly super close to all these people and then just... never mention them again lol. 

[kjllerbass]

Slice of Life: A Total Drama Fanficiton

Chapter 1: First Day Jitters

Point of View(s): Cody Anderson and Heather Mendoza

Chapter Summary: The teens go back to school for their sophomore year of high school! Will a new teacher and new classmates cause strife for class nobody Cody Anderson and queen bee Heather Mendoza?

——————————————————————————

September 3rd, 6:15 in the morning. The alarm on Cody’s phone started. It was officially his first day of sophomore year at the teenager-dubbed “hellhole,” more commonly known as Wawanakwa High School. After what seemed like the shortest summer vacation of his life, he had strong disbelief that going back to school was the right idea. The crisp fall morning brought an attitude of freshness to Cody, despite his dread to leave his bed. He finally crawled out after a self pep-talk and a few tears. Little did he know that sophomore year held more in store for the young man than he could handle.

“I don’t understand why you’re so apprehensive to go to school, Cody. It’s not like you’re getting, like, tortured in hell for eight hours every day.” Izzy laughed, still bounding a few steps ahead of the male. His morning walk for the last three years, now four, had consisted of chasing his neighbor down a block or two before barely catching up to her for conversation. It was a blessing and a curse, but a great deal of cardio each weekday morning.

“Except I AM!” Cody sighed. He was now at an equal pace with the redhead. Her energy levels at such an early time were not understood by the male, but he brushed it aside to continue getting his thought out. “I have a literal fear of Heather Mendoza. That’s not good.” Cody was too busy playing with the straps of his backpack to notice Izzy almost double over in laughter.

“It’s a rational fear. I think everyone fears that-” Izzy stopped laughing as a horn stopped her, causing the friends to peer into the street. What they didn’t expect to see was Noah Archya waving them into his older brother’s car.

“You’re gonna be late.” The brunette whined unenthusiastically, and Izzy compiled by dragging Cody into the street with her. What was the girl thinking? He grumbled in protest as she forced him to climb into the backseat. Why would he want to get into Noah’s car? The two were barely friends, but Izzy was the buffer for the time being. “What were you guys talking about? Seemed funny.” He chimed sarcastically, making Cody’s face go red.

Izzy smiled enthusiastically as she started speaking on the topic again. “Cody’s fear of Heather! Isn’t that so crazy?” She said, almost speaking a mile a minute. The scrawny brunette sent his friend a glare. No one deserved to know about his fears. Especially not Noah.

“Priceless.” Noah chuckled. “I had to work on freshman council with her last year. Sucked ass.” He said plainly, shrugging his shoulders. “I gave up all thoughts of running for president this year.”

Before Cody could even muster up the courage to answer, the car reached its destination. It was quite an oddity, getting a positive and meaningful answer out of Noah Archya. He had no time to mull over it, though. Izzy had already booted him out of the car and chided at him for being a slowpoke. Cody watched the students file over the school campus. Some, mostly freshman, were socializing in the middle of the pathway. Others could care less about conversation and made themselves straight inside.

“The first bell is in three...two...one!” counted Noah, who led the threesome through the wilderness called the hallways. Turns out, they were all in the same homeroom. And to think Cody had a break from the brunette.

On the other side of things, Heather Mendoza couldn’t wait to be back and reigning the halls of Wawanakwa High School. Freshman year was a bit rough, yet she still made quite the reputation for herself. Who knew telling half of the student body about Gwen’s crush on Trent would boost her popularity? And getting her hair cut by Gwen as a result? The perfect catfight. Everything was normal. She was the top of the food chain. The presidential election would come as a piece of cake to her. That was until she entered homeroom. 

Wawanakwa’s current sophomore class was one of the smallest in its current cast of students, only being split into two or three homerooms that haven’t changed since freshman year. Heather walked into the classroom, immediately taking the middle seat Lindsay was saving for her. The two had fallen out over summer, but their status of the most popular girls in school kept them together.

“Hi Heather, how was-” Lindsay attempted to start a conversation, before noticing Heather’s drastic change in hair length. “Heather! Where did it go?!” She exclaimed, only for Heather to give a sigh as a response. Sometimes the blonde’s reaction time wasn’t too... outstanding.

“Pasty cut it off. As if she wasn’t already busy enough sucking Courtney’s boyfriend’s face off.” Heather said, loud enough for Gwen to hear. The goth ignored it though because everyone else had already assumed she and Duncan were a couple just because of their appearances. The chatter of the room was brought down by this year’s homeroom teacher, Mr. McLean. He was the new head of the drama department and taught English to teenagers who really didn’t care about why Harper Lee chose to write about Southern racism. Oh, and rumor had it that he once was famous.

“Alright, campers,” The man started, standing up from his desk. “I’m Mr. McLean, call me Chris. I don’t mind it.” He shrugged, now using the surface as a seat. He dressed casually for such a job and looked about in his mid-thirties to Heather. Sort of like the brother she never speaks of. “Enough about me though! Today, we have-”

Mr. McLean was interrupted by Beth Kanassis, resident nerd and wannabe friend of Heather. “Weren’t you on that figure skating show? The one where that guy dropped the girl? Right on her head?” She asked, and you could see the teacher get more and more flustered with every specification she gave.

“What a dumb assumption!” replied Chris, his face reading an emotion Heather couldn’t place. A girl from the back of the room stood up. “It was him! I’ve only seen it about sixteen times, though.” She said with a certainty that some students believed to be...unsure of.

“Speaking of new students, thank you, Sierra, for the confirmation!” An already aggravated Chris said. “Class, we have two new students joining us today!” He continued, staring the purple-haired girl down. “Please give a warm Wawanakwa welcome to Sierra West and Alejandro Burromuerto!” Chris waved the girl and a new, Latin-looking man into the front of the classroom. Given how many girls, and Tyler, were staring at him, Heather could tell Alejandro would be even more trouble than Justin.

“Hello! I’m Sierra, and I can’t-” Sierra already froze up during her introduction. Was it because she finally caught the daggers Heather was sending? The girl gave herself a mental pat on the back before softening her features. Even after she did, Sierra was still starstruck by something in the back of the room. Heather followed Sierra’s sightline to a brunette boy slouched in his desk. Cody Anderson? Oh god.

 “Next!” Chris said, nudging Sierra back to her seat. Attention was now focused on Alejandro, the guy who Heather already hated. “Hello, I’m Alejandro. Always Alejandro. Never...Al.” He stated, his voice falling to a malicious mumble towards the end of his introductory statement. Most girls were already tuned out and just in awe, but Heather was listening, alright.

“Sorry, Al, could you repeat that?” Owen, another person Heather wasn’t fond of, asked the question to set him off. Instead of losing it, Alejandro kept his composure. “Please, el gordo, just stop talking.” He chided, returning to his seat after speaking. 

So he was transparent, fake and...deliciously seductive? Well, not to Heather. Maybe he would be an easy target to gain as an ally, like Lindsay. But Owen pissed him off, so he was smart enough to comprehend that already. He didn’t know that Heather Mendoza was a force to be reckoned with, though.

Throughout the day, it was like she couldn’t escape the Latin Lover. He was in her honors classes, where she thought she could catch a break from at least some people. Lunch was the only period where she didn’t feel the threatening eyes of the new student. She made her way from the line to the table, immediately stopping when she spotted who Lindsay had already directed to the table. It couldn’t be real.

“Hello, you must be Heather. Lindsay has only said the most wonderful things about you!” Alejandro said, giving Heather that charming smile that made all of the girls, and Tyler, fall earlier in homeroom. He was good, too good, and so perfect. Heather would have to get it through the blonde’s thick skull that hanging around with him was bad news.

“That’s right. And you’re Al, right?” She asked, an emphasis on the nickname he hated. He kept his charming smile, and just blew a kiss to the girl who became an annoyance. Heather gasped, turning her head away from the boy in front of her. She could tell what was running through his mind, but it wasn’t until they were walking back to their lockers when Heather confirmed her suspicions.

“So, what do you think your purpose here will be?” Heather asked, still very uninterested at the thought of this boy. She was only playing nice for Lindsay’s sake. Yeah, for Lindsay’s sake. “You know, when you’re not too busy making everyone look more stupid than you do?”

“I was planning on running for class president. Lindsay suggested it to me. Nothing like a little bit of healthy, friendly competition. Right, Mendoza?” He said, opening the locker that lived three doors away from Heather’s. Thank god that he couldn’t see her face right now, for it was redder than his shirt. How dare Lindsay tell him about her plan? She would have no competition until the dumb blonde opened her fat mouth. Plus, the idea that he could just go and call her Mendoza like that? Unthinkable! No one disrespects the queen bee like that. Maybe behind her back, but certainly not to her face.

“May the best man win, Al.” She sneered, leaving the lockers with a thud and a growl that even scared herself.

[pjbehindthesun]

chapter 4: acoustics and interruptions

Saturday, June 23rd, 1990

“Wait, where am I going??” Lucy squints over the wheel of her Corolla.

“Straight, straight, it’s just at the end of the block…” I do my best not to laugh at her, honestly, the girl has the world’s worst sense of direction. She could get lost in a paper bag with a map and a flashlight. “Ooh, ooh, park here, park HERE!” I shout, pointing to an upcoming parallel parking spot. Honestly we could have walked here too, but Lucy thought it was too far and she was nervous about the neighborhood.

My friend somehow works her car into the space, and I somehow occupy myself with something terribly interesting outside the car window to avoid laughing at the Morse code-like taps against bumpers and curbs that ensue in the process. “Hey, we made it! Will you relax now? Why are you so worked up anyway?”

“I’m just nervous! You’re not?? God, Cora, we saw them back in February, he’s like a legitimate rock star!”

“And also a legitimate pest.”

“But seriously, he’s so intimidating-looking…”

“Nah, you’ll see, he’s like… he’s like this big, lovable older brother you never wanted.”

“Well, it’s too bad Alex couldn’t come tonight to meet your brother…” she raises an eyebrow at me as she shuts off the car.

Yeah. Too bad. She knows me too well. Chris and Alex would have gotten along like cats and dogs, which is so stupid, because there’s absolutely no reason for Alex to be jealous. Chris is married! But Alex always gives me a hard time about guy friends. It’s just easier not to have them, usually, but Chris has been pretty persistent. I smile inwardly. I’m actually kind of relieved Alex decided to go out with the guys instead, but I can’t admit that, not even to Lucy. “Yeah, too bad, he just wasn’t feeling up to it tonight, poor guy.”

We walk under the overpass and along the brick wall to the door of the Off Ramp and make our way inside, where we are instantly greeted by the loud, sludgy chords of the opening band, so heavy that I can feel the air in my lungs shaking with the beat. Tad, I think Chris said? I’m way too short to see much of anything through the crowd, but they sound amazing. My Chucks stick slightly to the floor and the air smells thickly of beer and smoke, and it makes me grin ear to ear. School hasn’t left me with a lot of spare time to explore the music scene out here yet, but I missed the hell out of divey clubs like this one. I nudge Lucy and we head over to the bar. I squeeze past a pretty English girl with long, curly dark hair who’s even shorter than me and deep in conversation with some guy about acoustics in outer space. I have to will my not-so-inner science nerd not to barge into their conversation, so instead I flag down the bartender and check on my friend. Lucy is her usual willowy, tall, beautiful, unassuming self tonight in a cute floral dress and white Keds, fidgeting nervously next to me. Meanwhile, I might get mistaken for a roadie any second in a white T-shirt and old jeans that are literally acid-washed from a lab accident last fall. In my defense, I did spend the whole day in the lab, and at least I put on a shirt that doesn’t have soil stains on it.

The band wraps up their last song just as the bartender comes back with our beers. I look around for Chris, futilely, of course… even trying to lean up on the bar edge is not exactly helping my vertically challenged vantage point…

“CORAAAAAAA!” And suddenly my field of vision is obscured by a crazy tangle of black curls as a shirtless guy sweeps me off my feet and parks me on the bar itself. “You made it!”

“Hi to you too, Chris,” I grin lazily, as if this is a totally normal human interaction, mostly because Lucy’s jaw is on the floor and it’s hilarious to see her all shaken up. The bar is tall, putting me above eye level with Chris. I rest my hands on his shoulders and squint at him through his curtain of hair with mock concern… “say, did you get shorter or something?”

“You wish, baby bear.” He turns around and gestures to a group of guys over by the stage, who descend on us. “Guys! This is Cora!” He picks me up like I weigh nothing at all and whirls me around, setting me down on my feet in front of this newly arrived wall of musicians. “And you are?” he asks Lucy, who’s looking dazed as I introduce them and Chris shakes her hand.

“Matt, Kim, Ben – Cora, these guys are my posse – guys, this is Cora, the girl I was telling you about! And this is Lucy!” Another guy, one I actually recognize, nudges his way to the front of the pack to figure out the source of Chris’s commotion. “And this is Jeff” – he points to my neighbor, and I can’t help grinning as Lucy turns bright red – “and oh hey, Stoney!” he bellows as he flags down another tall, slender guy to come join us. Fuck, is everyone in Seattle tall but me? I feel like a Hobbit.

“Stone, just Stone,” the guy corrects with an eye roll in Chris’s direction, before looking back at me. “Nice to meet you, Cora,” Stone says in a lazy voice. “Chris has been talking about you nonstop for like two weeks. Had to see if you live up to the legend he’s told us,” he smirks down at me and flips his long brown hair over his shoulder. Based on the “dude, seriously?” look he just got from Jeff, I can tell that it’s not unusual for him to try to make people uncomfortable, so I fire back.

“The legend? Oh no, Chris, you told them about the tourists we killed and ate on the trail? That was supposed to be our little secret,” I say innocently, licking my fingers and picking my teeth. Lucy’s looks like she’s about to implode from embarrassment. Jeff’s smiling at her and Chris is hanging back, watching the scene, grinning like Satan himself.

Stone sputters with laughter. “Careful, I hear those tourists will go straight to your ass, very fattening.” Jeff tears his eyes off Lucy long enough to scowl at Stone and punch him in the shoulder.

“What the fuck, man?” Jeff glances sideways at me and then back to his friend. Aww. Defending the lady. I try not to roll my eyes. Bless his heart.

“Beats all these skin-and-bones Seattle boys, like a bunch of plants that have been kept in the dark,” I poke Stone hard in his skinny chest and pull a scowl. He blinks down at me with big doe eyes, and for a split second I can see he’s stumped for words. Time to ease up, I just met the guy.

“So you’ve been hearing about me for weeks, huh? What’s this moron been telling you?” I nod in Chris’s direction and try a gentle smile, more to make Jeff and Lucy feel at ease than anything else, although it seems like they don’t need my help because they’ve already turned away from us and are chatting in an appallingly cute and wholesome manner.

Chris is the one who answers. “Just that you’re a sexy soil scientist who’s going to save the world from pollution… and forest fires.” I shoot Chris a dirty look that makes him chuckle. “Ok, ok, I know when I’m not wanted… might as well go play a show!” He winks, rounds up his band, and makes toward the stage.

With Jeff and Lucy flirting animatedly over at the bar, I’m left with Stone, who raises an insolent eyebrow.

“So, sexy soil scientist… tell me about these sexy soils…”

My eyes roll so hard I fear I’ve maybe pulled a muscle. “Chris is unreal. Honestly, I study dirt and it’s the least fucking sexy thing imaginable, he just said it to piss me off.” The snap in my voice surprises even me, and I can tell it surprises Stone too. The poor guy blinks down at me with a stunned look on his face. How could he know I spent my entire Saturday in the lab troubleshooting an ancient ion chromatograph that will be waiting for me tomorrow, just as obstinate in its refusal to give me data as it was when I first got to the lab this morning. Or that my advisor is absolutely no help and there’s no one else around in the department I can even ask. Or that the lab fridge was out of beer so I couldn’t even day-drink my way through the two hours on hold with tech support because even they didn’t know what to tell me. Okay, enough moping, time to recover before this poor guy thinks you’re a total psycho.

“Sorry. Long day. I just don’t want to talk about work. Surely you don’t like to talk shop when you’re not… uh, doing whatever it is you do?” I give him what I hope is an encouraging smile.

“I’m a musician, I play guitar,” he says laconically, looking around at nothing in particular but clearly endeavoring to seem cool.

He’s got an affected manner, which usually makes me want to run screaming, but he’s not very good at it. Just below the surface you can see he’s a dorky, awkward kid (takes one to know one), so his pretension just makes me laugh. “Oh, sorry, so I guess you’re still at the shop then. What’s the name of your band?”

“In between bands at the moment. I had this one band with Jeff for a while but that, uhm, ended in March, so I’m kind of just writing songs on my own right now, or with a friend here and there, just trying to figure things out.”

“Oh, yeah?” I was about to ask more about the kinds of songs he’s writing, or what happened with the old band, but before I can say anything else, the crowd starts screaming and I hear the first notes of Hands All Over, my favorite song from the cassette I picked up at the show at the Moore.

Stone and I are both quickly absorbed watching the show, or what I can see of it from here. Chris really is amazing. I can see what Lucy finds kind of terrifying, maybe, with his black cargo shorts and huge boots, and that brutalizing, scorched-earth voice. But it’s beautiful, too. A voice that can sing while screaming. A voice that sounds like the terror of a plane crash, but also a voice that somehow manages to put the whole thing gently back on the runway in one piece. And then there are his lyrics. These intensely heavy songs laced with frighteningly fragile thoughts. I’ve never heard another singer like him.

“I think he’s possessed,” Stone whispers in my ear, as if reading my mind. I look up at him and he widens his eyes and gasps in mock horror.

“Maybe, but you never met a nicer demon,” and we share a smile before turning back to watch the show.

Stone and I watch the rest of the set together over our beers, cracking jokes occasionally but mostly just enjoying the music. When the show’s over, he motions his head to the rear exit and produces a little glass pipe from his pocket. I grin and trail after him as he heads over.

We sit down on the curb outside the club. “So Stone’s not just a clever name, huh?”

“I don’t have to take this abuse, new girl. Do you want the pot or don’t you?” I bite my lip to tamp down the smile and nod.

“So how long have you lived here?” he asks as he packs the bowl with a furtive glance around.

I chuckle at the ground. “Is it that obvious?”

“Y’all ain’t from around here, are ya?” He smirks off into the distance, doing possibly the world’s worst imitation of a Southern accent before taking a hit and passing me the pipe.

“Ha! Something tells me you don’t get out of Seattle much. And no, I’m not from here. Asheville North Carolina, originally. I moved here a year ago.”

“For school, Chris said? Didn’t get enough book learning back in the hollers?” His words are barbed but the smile that accompanies them is welcoming, disarming, as if to say don’t listen to me, I know I’m full of shit, I’m just playing around, please play along.

“Welllll I started to have my doubts after they taught us in 3rd grade that Jefferson Davis rode a pterodactyl to victory in every major American war…” I say, stretching out what little drawl I still have as far as it’ll go before I hit the pipe.

He chuckles. “Yeah. I think you belong out here with us.” It’s an odd thing to say to someone you’ve just met, so I look up to try and catch his meaning, but he’s still looking away, scanning the street. Not big on eye contact, this guy.

“Well it beats the sticks, at least. You grew up here, I take it?”

“Born and raised.”

“Always wanted to be a musician?”

“Yeah. Always. I went to art school and I have unrepentant hippies for parents, so there was never much hope.”

“Hippies, huh?”

“What, the name didn’t give it away?” He rolls his eyes and glances over with a small smile.

“I like it. Earthy. Grounded. Solid.” I can’t pun with a straight face to save my life. Or maybe the weed’s kicking in already. I stifle a giggle.

“Says the professional dirt worshipper!” he laughs.

“Unabashedly.” I hold my hands up like I’ve been caught robbing a bank, shuffling my sneakers on the pavement. “Honestly I’ve seen people worship stupider shit.”

“Well you’re not wrong there. Probably more of us could stand to find something like god out in the woods. Maybe we’d take better care of things that way.”

“Oh, a fellow tree-hugger then?” I grin.

“Afraid so.” He finally flicks his eyes up to mine with a serious expression. And his eyes are striking. Olive green, with eyelashes most girls would probably kill for.

“Yeah, well, Alex thinks I’m wasting my time in school for anything related to the environment, thinks we all just need to focus on getting the fuck to Mars so we don’t have to worry about conservation. Says the damage is already done, so why should our generation have to fix everyone else’s mistakes?”

“And who is this Alex? Some kind of Nobel laureate, clearly.”

“Oh, Alex is my boyfriend.” Hadn’t I mentioned him already?

“Huh,” is all Stone says. Evidently not. The pause that follows is uncomfortable after the steady rhythm we’d fallen into.

“He moved out with me from Asheville,” I say. Why I am answering a question Stone didn’t ask? Why did he clam up?

“So this Cletus fella, he’s not in graduate school with you?”

“Alex! And no. We met during the first week of college. He’s a programmer, and he’s brilliant.”

“I’ll bet he is. And how long have you and Jimbob been a'courtin’?” The momentary thaw seems to have vanished and he’s back to teasing me. I pull a face and elbow him in the ribs.

“ALEX. Five years now.” Stone raises his eyebrows and nods down at the curb. “So tell me about your glamorous guitarist life,” I ask, figuring it’s time for a change of subject. “You had a band?”

“Yeah. Me and Jeff did. Guitar and bass,” he points at his chest and then vaguely back at the club. “Mother Love Bone, maybe you’d heard of us?” he says, passing the pipe back without looking up.

I shake my head and take another hit. “Sorry. You forget I’m still pretty new here. What happened, why the past tense?”

“We uh, lost our singer,” he says quietly. “Couple of months back. Overdose.”

Gone is the imperviousness. The sarcasm. The insouciance. What’s left is an awkward kid sitting on a curb, boring a hole into the ground with his stare, cradling a raw wound. That I have just rubbed salt into with my blundering curiosity.

“Fuck… fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I mean, you didn’t know, it’s okay.” He recovers his bearings a little. “Not okay that it happened, obviously, but it’s okay that you asked.”

I figure silence is my best bet right now, because what can I say? After a little while, Stone goes on.

“Andy. Andy Wood. He was our singer. And a really good friend. He… Jeff and I are still promoting the stuff we did as a group before he died. We put all this work in for two years on this album, so we’re trying to show that to people now. And trying to figure out what comes next, if anything. I’ve been playing guitar with this guy Mike, and he wants the three of us to pull something together, but I don’t fucking know.” He kills the rest of the bowl and taps out the ashes on the curb before stowing the pipe back in his pocket.

“Will it still be Mother Love Bone, or something else?”

“I think we would all need it to be something else. It’s hard, we’ve had people ask us about keeping the band going, sending us tapes of weird Andy tributes… I have no idea how –”

Stone is abruptly cut off by a pair of wasted guys who stumble outside and almost trip over us. “Watch where the fuck you’re going, would you?” I grumble. One of them gapes down at me.

“Hey, girl… your hair’s so red…”

“You’re quick.” My voice is level, but Stone’s watching me carefully like he’s unsure whether he should speak up or not.

“So baby, does the carpet match the drapes?” his friend slurs.

Stone’s mouth flies open, but before he can say anything, I respond in complete deadpan, “it’s tile.”

“What the fuck… god, whatever, these fuckin’ weird chicks, dude…” the guys stumble off into the night as Stone dissolves in hysterics on the curb next to me.

“That was great! Wait a second, did he think I was a chick?” he manages to gasp out between laughs.

“And you find that more offensive than what he thought about me??” I tease.

“Hell yes, I am as macho as they fuckin’ come.”

“My mistake, Stoner.” We’re still cracking up like a couple of fucking potheads when another pair comes tumbling out of the door, but this time I’m the one gaping as I see Lucy pulling a beaming Jeff by the hand out behind the club.

“See, that’s better,” she’s giggling, “we can actually hear each other out –”

Then she and Jeff notice us and shout, “Cora!” and “Stone!” at the same time, and he and I break down laughing all over again.

“Shit, they’re fucking high,” Jeff laughs. “You save us any?”

“Didn’t know you were coming out to sample the night air, otherwise we would have,” I’m grinning so broadly at Lucy that my cheeks hurt. She bites her lip sheepishly and mumbles something about it being too loud inside to hear.

“I bet. Stone, let’s give these guys some peace and quiet,” I say as we get up from our spot on the curb. Lucy’s stammering apologetic nonsense for no good reason at all, but Jeff’s smiling like an idiot.

“Oh yeah, carry on, children,” Stone purrs before following me inside.

***

Cora grabs me by the hand and pulls me back towards the bar. “WE NEED BEER!” she hollers over the din. I’m not arguing with that.

The club hasn’t emptied at all, but for a tiny little person, she cuts through the crowd like a knife. She drops my hand to flag down the bartender and puts down $2 just as I’m trying to get my wallet out of my back pocket.

“No, let me get it –”

She cuts me off. “Your macho is showing again. Come on, let me pay you back” she mouths the last three words “for the pot.”

“If you insist.”

“You bet your ass,” she hands me a bottle and smiles at me with those big, sparkling dark brown eyes. I wish she wasn’t so pretty. And unavailable. And hilarious, and kind, and warm. And unavailable. 

“So do you and Billy-Bob – OW” I clutch my shoulder where she’s just punched me “– fine, Alex, do you guys live around here?”

“Yeah, we live on the same floor as Jeff, he didn’t tell you?”

Oh hell, it’s that Alex? This poor girl. I had no idea Cora was Jeff’s neighbor, but I’ve heard a fucking earful about Alex. “No, uh, he didn’t.” No need to tell her what he has actually told me, then.

“And what do you think of our fair city?”

She finishes a swig of beer and says, “not much at all yet, I don’t get out a lot.”

“But you’ve lived here a whole year?”

“Yeah, but I work a lot, and I go to Alaska every summer, and –”

I’m just cutting her off to ask what the hell she goes to Alaska for when Mike materializes out of the crowd and slumps against my shoulder.

“Heyyy Stone,” he slurs with a big dopey grin, and Cora smiles back with a quick bite of her lip.

“Friend of yours?” she asks with raised eyebrows.

“Mike, Cora. Cora, Mike. Cora, Mike is a guitar genius and a stinky drunk. Mike, Cora is a nerdy redneck and a friend of Chris’s.”

Mike garbles something about how any friend of Chris’s is a friend of his, much to Cora’s amusement, just as Chris appears over Cora’s shoulder with his arm around Susan.

“Looks like we got a drinker,” he says with a gentle smile. “You good, Cready?”

Mike hiccups and gives a thumbs up.

“How are you guys getting home?” Susan frowns. “You all look a little south of sober.”

“I left my car at Jeff’s place, we were gonna walk back in a little bit.” Whenever Jeff’s done putting the moves on Lucy, I guess.

Cora pipes up. “Oh, we drove, Lucy and me, I bet she’s still sober. Wanna ride?”

“Thanks, friendofChris’s,” Mike mumbles drowsily, still leaning heavily on me.

“You and Lucy?”

“Yeah, she lives in our building. Keep up, Stoner,” she winks at me. “Let me go find her.” She ducks off into the crowd, leaving me to support Mike and catch up with Chris about the tour they’re about to go on.

A few minutes later, she reappears with the two lovebirds in tow, and I notice they’re holding hands.

“I found your bassist,” she says with a sly smile.

“Fuck yes,” muses the drunk on my shoulder.

“Former bassist,” I roll my eyes and Jeff uses his free hand to flip me off with a lazy smile. “Lucy,“ I go on, “would you take pity on a bunch of drunks and give us a ride, please?”

“Of course,” she says with a smile, but she’s looking at Jeff when she says it. These two are so sweet it’s nauseating.

We say our goodbyes to Chris and Susan and make our way out to Lucy’s beat-up Corolla. I unload an almost-passed out Mike into one back seat before heading around the car to get in on the other side. Jeff’s lining up behind me, but Cora cuts in front of both of us.

“You’re the tallest, Jeff, I can’t let you squish back here! You should sit up front.” She sounds sincere, but there’s something in her face that loudly broadcasts mischief. Jeff just shrugs, clearly not willing to argue with anything that puts him closer to Lucy, and Cora tucks herself into the middle and pats the vacant seat impatiently. “You’re bossy, Red,” I laugh as I climb in.

“You’re ungrateful, Stoner.”

“God, you two are like an old married couple already,” Jeff grumbles from the front seat as Lucy brings the ancient car to life.

I breathe a sigh of relief as we pull into the parking lot of their apartment building. Lucy’s a very sweet girl, but I almost feel like we would have been safer with one of the drunks at the wheel. I hate to use the fucking stereotype, but she legitimately is one of the worst drivers I’ve ever seen.

On the other hand, I spent the entire car ride crammed in next to Cora and having a fabulous time bickering with her relentlessly about the music on the radio. As we wave goodnight to Lucy on the 3rd floor and Cora on the 4th, I already miss the way her hair smells and the way she talks with her hands and the way she swats at me when she’s annoyed and the way she gets my humor and the way she makes me feel like we’re the only ones around for miles. So, it’s not all bad.

[imdrunkandreviewingshit-blog]

Tipsy Review of “Spider-Man: Homecoming”: Does Whatever A Student Can

Spoilers Abound

              Lemondrops. I’m not a fan of martinis in general, but you put lemon into anything and I’m probably gonna like it. Before this movie, I had myself three of these splendidly alcohol-heavy drinks and a cider. Maybe that is what contributed to the fun I had watching Spider-Man: Homecoming.

              Homecoming is the latest entry to the Marvel Cinematic Universe and the latest reboot of Spider-Man, though the first under the MCU banner. The film follows the youngest Peter Parker yet, played by Tom Holland, this time only a sophomore in high school. I was cautious about this development for Spider-Man, as I feel that the most relatable Peter Parker is the working-class hero version, but I enjoyed the film’s depiction of Peter’s life immensely. He crushes on girls, struggles with being a nerdy guy, and tries to balance his regular life with his extracurriculars. How can you not identify with that? Everyone can find a little piece of Peter Parker inside of themselves. It’s what has made him so immensely lovable since his inception.

              Of course, life is more complicated than just school. After the final bell rings, he runs out, changes into his costume, and swings across the city, stopping whatever crimes he can. But he dreams bigger; he calls Tony’s assistant Happy Hogan every day, telling him what he did with the day and hoping he can take on bigger assignments. When he comes into conflict with Michael Keaton’s Adrian Toomes, he doggedly pursues him to prove that he’s worthy of being an Avenger and earn the approval of Tony Stark, his new father figure.

              The heart and soul of this movie is Tom Holland. With Tobey Macguire, we had a great Peter Parker but a rather milquetoast Spider-Man. With Andrew Garfield, we had a witty, wisecracking Spidey, but an alienating and confusing Pete. Tom Holland blends the best of both and realizes the full potential of Spider-Man: a young man becoming the person he always wanted to be. And honestly, he plays both sides of the coin better than either of his predecessors; Spider-Man isn’t always smooth, as shown when he tries to pose before alerting some thieves to his presence. And while Peter is most definitely a nerd and awkward, we can understand why people find him charming and are drawn to him. Holland brings a natural boyish charm to the role, effortlessly inspiring while also never allowing the audience to forget that this is a kid behind the mask.

              His villain this time is Adrian Toomes, the Vulture. This is a new, more sympathetic take on the villain. Toomes is driven to villainy when his role in the clean-up of New York after the first Avengers movie is cut due to government interference, headed up by no one else than Tony Stark. Toomes is a response to Tony’s wealthy-yet-disconnected take on philanthropy. He works with the government to create a secret department dedicated to cleaning up after metahuman battles called Damage Control. However, by creating this, he puts blue-collar workers out of a job. Toomes, in order to provide for his family and for the men who work for him, turns to crime, stealing alien weapons and artifacts from Damage Control with a wingsuit and some nifty tools. Now, this design is awesome. You go looking from a little bald weirdo to an angel of death born in the dump. Vulture has never had such a good upgrade. On top of that, Michael Keaton is perfect here. Ignoring even his previous casting history, he plays Toomes with an incredible amount of malice brimming under the surface of a man who is done being kicked around by those in charge. Anyone who has had to work for a living can see where this guy is coming from. However, there are a few missteps along the way that keep this villain from being a truly great antagonist.

              First of all, he’s a goddamn hypocrite. We meet Toomes working in the grease and dirt of the ruins of New York. Later, Peter disrupts one of his heists, so he decides then that he has to go for “the big one,” the heist that he has repeatedly said no to throughout the film. You’re led to believe that he really does need this heist in order to survive, provide for his guys, and provide for his family. By the time Peter encounters him with no masks, this mother fucker is living in a house that is almost all windows. Then, he has the audacity to tell Peter that people like Tony Stark, “don’t understand guys like us.” Man, Peter Parker lives in a shitty apartment in Queens, you have nothing in common with him anymore. He can’t accept that he is now a part of the 1%, much like Stark is. And that would be fine if the film addressed this at all. Characters aren’t bad if they’re hypocrites, but the film can’t then go pretending that he isn’t. It’s frustrating because there are lots of great character moments with Toomes. His chat with Peter right before the homecoming dance is wonderful, his decision to incapacitate a troublesome worker convinces us how important his work is to him, but then you realize this is the type of person that probably would ask most people to take their shoes off before they step in his home. The blue-collar status disappears completely and you realize this is a man that is just driven by greed and nothing more. Everything that made him different disappears (save a nice little mid-credits scene that shows that he does have some sort of code of honor).

              There are a few fun side characters in the film. Jon Favreau’s Happy Hogan finally becomes a character after being little more than a butler in the Iron Man films. He acts as Tony’s liaison to Pete, as Tony is mostly too busy abroad to deal with the street-level hero. Jacob Batalon shines as Peter’s best friend Ned and the source of the biggest laughs in the movie. Zendaya is great as Michelle, the liberal weirdo with attitude (as a liberal weirdo, I say this with affection). But for every good addition, there is one that feels pointless or misguided. The biggest one has to be the Shocker. Now, at first, Logan Marshall-Greene seemed poised to be a great secondary villain, but as soon as his presence is felt, it is tossed aside for Bokeem Woodbine’s infinitely more stoic and boring Shocker. Other pointless characters include Donald Glover in an incredibly small role, Tony Revolori as an annoying and small Flash Thompson, and Jennifer Connolly as the AI of Pete’s suit, Karen.

              That said, I’m getting a bit too negative. This is a FUN movie. It’s got a lot of heart, the jokes all (mostly) land, and for the most part, it’s got some pretty good action. The film is at its peak when its addressing the core issue of Spider-Man: how can you balance your wants with your duties? Though this film is, much like The Amazing Spider-Man, afraid to say that with great power comes great responsibility, it more than addresses it through the actions of our hero. And though he does have his failures along the way, Peter Parker knows that he is Spider-Man and that he must sacrifice what may make him happy to better the world. What’s more heroic than that?

              God bless Peter Parker. You may have the worst luck in the world. You may never find true happiness. You may never get the normal existence that you crave deep down. But you inspire us all by teaching us that we must sacrifice for a better world and that we can do it with a smile on our face. And while this isn’t the best superhero movie of the year, this movie reinforces why Spider-Man is the best superhero there is. Not because of his powers, not because he’s funny, but because he’s not so different from us. If Spider-Man doesn’t give up hope for a better world and can keep living with a smile on his face, then why can’t we?

              Wonder Woman was still a bit better though. Just saying.

[lotsofdogs]

The Great Big Postpartum Post

Today’s blog post has been a long time coming! Well, I guess it hasn’t been brewing for that long considering Ryder is just now 8 weeks old but it has taken me a lot longer to find the time to sit down and type up everything about this postpartum period than I anticipated.

I’ve actually been working on bits and pieces of this post for weeks and thought about breaking it up but decided against it so everything is in one place. Today’s post touches on everything from Ryder and breastfeeding to newborn sleep and the transition into life with two children. Brace yourselves because you guys are getting a VERY wordy post comin’ at you today!

Ryder

Oh Ryder! My sweet little boy! Ryder is such a gift in our lives and I absolutely love being his mother.

I don’t quite know how to put the way I feel about this little guy into words but he has a personality that feels almost calming to me which I know sounds crazy but there’s something about the way he locks eyes with everyone as he coos away that makes me feel like he’s going to be an introspective and thoughtful little boy. We all say he seems older than his 8 weeks somehow and I cannot wait to watch his personality develop and unfold as time goes on.

As far as babies go, he’s pretty darn easygoing and as Ryan likes to say, “He’s a good baby… but he’s still a baby,” which I think perfectly sums things up around here. It’s basically our way of saying he’s not too challenging but newborns are never a cakewalk! Ryder is admittedly an easier baby than our first (I hate to compare but I think it’s only natural for those with two kids to admit that all babies are different and some are easier than others) and Ryder truly feels like an angel baby to me because most of the time he’s just so content.

He loves to kick and coo and look at lights and fans and faces. High-pitched baby talk works wonders with Ryder and brings about the cutest little expressions that seem to showcase 5,000 emotions in 2.5 seconds. He’ll look at us with a big, gummy smile that will morph into a skeptical look that will quickly morph into a judgmental baby face and I’m trying to soak them all up!

It’s so neat to see Ryder’s personality develop right before my eyes and the past few weeks have brought about tons of smiles, gurgles and sweet baby chirps and coos that I just adore. He loves people and will lock eyes and stare at anyone and everyone who meets him.

Ryder is out of all of his newborn clothes and into 0-3 month and some 3 month clothing already. When he was born, I thought we lucked out and would be able to reuse all of Chase’s old clothes since they both have summer birthdays but I am beginning to wonder if Ryder’s size might not make this a possibility!

I love his squishy thighs, the milky bubbles he blows, the way his gummy smile creeps into his eyes and overtakes his whole face, his fluffy mohawk and the way he’ll come off my chest after nursing and give me the cutest little flirty smiles. It melts me every time and I am so grateful for this little boy.

Breastfeeding

Breastfeeding admittedly got off to a bit of a stressful start. When we were in the hospital and I attempted to nurse Ryder for the first time, he latched well but would only take one or two powerful sucks before coming off my breast. We now realize this was likely because he couldn’t breathe well while nursing. Once he was admitted to the NICU, I spent the next few days setting alarms and exclusively pumping which resulted in some incredibly sore nipples and stressed me out because after my first pump, I was pumping next to nothing or nothing at all. I was assured that this was normal and encouraged to continue pumping.

During this experience and also in hindsight, I felt incredibly grateful that I was a second-time mom because I cannot imagine how much more stressed I would’ve felt to have to learn how to pump immediately and then try to navigate nursing for the first time. I also know I am very, very lucky that our NICU stay was relatively short and I was able to nurse Ryder after a few days. I know this is not the case for many and I will always feel so grateful for everything.

Once my milk came in and I was able to nurse Ryder, breastfeeding improved dramatically. I felt my uterus begin to cramp, my bleeding increased and my body seemed to physically respond to nursing Ryder in the most incredible way.

Nursing Ryder in the beginning was a very different experience from learning to breastfeed Chase. It’s truthfully been much, much easier this time. I think this has a lot to do with the fact that Chase had a tongue tie that resulted in bleeding, scabbing and a lot of pain and I needed to use nipple cream like it was my job. I remember dreading the moment Chase would need to latch again because it would hurt so much until he had his frenulum clipped. Another thing I believe has contributed to an easier experience this time around is the simple fact that this is my second time breastfeeding. I truly believe nursing Chase for 15 months permanently changed my nipples and paved the way for Ryder a bit. Is that weird? Unfounded? Maybe! But whatever it is, I’ll take it!

Ryder is nursing well and seems to be a very efficient eater. He rarely wants to nurse for an extended period of time but he definitely wants to nurse often. I am nursing on demand at the moment which means that some days I feel like all I do is nurse, especially when Ryder wants to snack or cluster feed all day long. Ryder will often stay latched well for several minutes but then he likes to come on and off my breast and intersperse nursing with looking at me or looking around the room and cooing. This will often result in a very messy and milky nursing experience (my breasts will often spray milk or drip milk when he breaks his latch), so we’re going through a lot of milk-soaked burp cloths and blankets over here right now.

One obstacle that surfaced for the first few weeks of Ryder’s life that was somewhat related to breastfeeding was a pretty horrible diaper rash. His poor little booty was so red and he had little bloody sores on his bottom. The pediatrician had my breast milk tested to see if Ryder might have a milk protein allergy but everything came back normal. His diaper rash cleared up dramatically around 6 weeks and I think a HUGE part of this was the fact that Ryder started pooping less and his butt finally had time to recover between poops.

In the interim, we did a lot of naked baby time to give his butt a chance to breathe in between diaper changes and tried a bunch of diaper rash remedies, creams and oils. Most diaper rash remedies didn’t work well for Ryder (even a prescription cream) but Triple Paste seemed to work the best for him and we went through that stuff like it was going out of style!

Sleeping

My expectations for newborn sleep were really, really low. Chase was up nearly every two hours for feedings for well over a month or two and when I looked back on my monthly update posts for Chase, I saw that he was still waking up at least two times a night at 4-5 months old. This is what I was expecting from Ryder so I cannot tell you how incredible it has been to have a child who seems to sleep well. It’s pretty darn amazing. But I say this in the same breath that I say we are doing NOTHING different this time around with Ryder so if you have a baby that is a horrible sleeper, you’re doing a GREAT job and you’re doing nothing wrong. I feel you. Chase’s sleep was rough but in the beginning I had no point of comparison and thought all babies woke up a million times a night. (In this instance my naivety as a new mom worked as a benefit for me.)

Once I started to realize some babies were, in fact, sleeping through the night when we were still up all the time with Chase, I began reading baby sleep books which mostly made me feel like a big fat failure. As a second-time mom, I now realize some babies are just better sleepers and some parents just get really lucky. That’s not to say following sleep training techniques and implementing schedules doesn’t work for babies — I think they totally DO! — but babies are so different and as someone who has had a baby who was a pretty awful sleeper and someone who has a baby who seems to be a naturally good sleeper, I just feel like that’s an important thing to say to any moms out there who might be reading this post with bags under their eyes after months of horrible sleep. You’re doing great and it will get better! That’s something I also carry with me this time around — bad sleep DOES come to an end and it happens faster than you might think. Understanding that all of the baby struggles are temporary somehow makes it easier this time, too.

In the beginning, Ryder was up every three(ish) hours in the night. Some nights were filled with more frequent feedings but as the weeks went on, the time between Ryder’s feedings stretched out more and more. Right now I typically feed him before we go to bed between 8 and 9 p.m. Ryder will then typically wake up between midnight and 2 a.m. and again around 4 or 5 a.m. The fact that I am usually getting at least one solid 4-5 hour stretch of sleep between nursing sessions feels like an incredible gift and has been a huge help when it comes to my energy level every day. We’ve even had a few nights where Ryder skips his middle-of-the-night feed and wakes up to nurse for the first time between 4 and 5 a.m. (I pretty much wanted to high-five everyone I saw the next day after those nights!)

Of course some nights are still rough around here — just last night I found myself pacing around our room and rocking him from 2:30-3:30 a.m. — and I admittedly found myself throwing a dirty diaper in the washing machine last week because I was so out of it but, on the whole, I am counting my blessings in the newborn sleep department at the moment.

Physical Recovery and Changes

My physical recovery from this pregnancy has honestly been pretty good. Labor was fast and my delivery was pretty easy (thank you, epidural) and I only needed two stitches so I wasn’t too sore for too long. I continued to bleed and experience some serious postpartum night sweats up until around 5 weeks postpartum.

I started walking for exercise (and sanity!) when Ryder was about a week and a half old. I kept my pace nice and easy and gradually worked up to walking three(ish) miles almost every day. I feel really good now and just started to return to boot camp classes this week.

I am definitely easing into fitness and currently modifying my workouts quite a bit. After I received the okay from my doctor at my 6-week postpartum checkup, I began doing some moderate strength training in our garage but only a few days and every workout left me feeling so sore!

From an aesthetic standpoint, I’m softer everywhere and the cellulite is REAL over here but I’m not really focused on that right now. I’m not weighing myself regularly (I didn’t before I got pregnant and don’t plan to start now) but I hopped on the scale for the sake of this post and saw I’m up about 12-15 pounds from my pre-pregnancy weight. I know from my experience with Chase that the final 10-15 pounds of pregnancy weight gain took the longest to lose and it took me a solid 9 months to lose it all after my first pregnancy.

My plan for postpartum weight loss is the same this time around: I plan to focus on being as healthy as I can, work out regularly to make myself feel strong (mentally and physically) and trust that my body will do what is best. Breastfeeding is a priority for me and along with nursing comes ridiculous hunger so I feel like I’m an eating machine and I wouldn’t want to mess with anything that could effect my milk supply.

I say all of this in one breath but I don’t want to mislead anyone into thinking I’m completely confident with my postpartum body. I feel secure in my body and so grateful for what it has done but getting dressed feels awkward since I’m in a weird transition stage where maternity stuff doesn’t really work and my regular clothes all cling to my body and feel too small. I am just not dwelling on my physical appearance and I am trying to put my focus where it matters — on my two boys — and remind myself that my body just did something amazing and it should look different right now.

Despite what the media and social media portrays, I know it’s not realistic to look like I didn’t just give birth 8 weeks after our baby arrived so I’m trying my best to embrace the softness, cellulite and body changes and focus on the incredible reason my body looks different. It just produced a HUMAN and that’s pretty freaking incredible!

Transition to Two Children

In today’s post I’m focusing on how I’m personally handling the transition into life with two kids but you may read more about how big brother Chase is handling the transition in Chase’s Three Year Update. 

To be completely honest, the hardest part about this postpartum period has been the transition from one child to two. This is not because Chase is acting out or we have a colicky baby or anything dramatic but simply juggling two children is very, very different than one baby. There’s basically NO downtime and every day feels a bit chaotic right now.

When Chase was a baby, I could count on his nap time to work but now I can count on one hand the number of times Chase and Ryder’s naps have coincided which means I am constantly feeling behind on everything. I cannot blog or get work done nearly as often as I used to and our house rarely looks clean but I know this is a season and I’m trying to embrace this time as best as possible.

Possibly the biggest blessing in this postpartum transition period was having my mom here to help after Ryder was born. So many fellow moms encouraged me to accept help during this time and I’m so, so glad I did even if my first inclination was to say, “I’ve got this!”

My mom mostly helped with Chase after Ryder was born which is exactly what we wanted and needed most. Ryan got one week of paternity leave so his time off was all used up while we were still in the hospital with Ryder. Having my mom’s help during this time and right after Ryan went back to work was so incredible and absolutely helped with the transition. Her help made a huge difference to me during the first couple of weeks with two kids and I know how lucky we were to have her here!

When Ryder “woke up” (aka was no longer sleeping all day every day), I had quite a few meltdown days. Seemingly overnight, Ryder needed more attention and soothing to be content and on the days when Chase wouldn’t nap or didn’t nap well, he’d often be in a serious MOOD by 4 p.m. Let’s just say the hours from 4 p.m. until bedtime often felt (and can feel) like an eternity. This is the time of day that is still the most challenging for us and it can feel really long and draining some days since it’s typically the time of day when Ryder seems the most hands-on (they call it the “witching hour” for a reason!) and, depending on his mood, Chase can be needier and whinier than usual.

Ryan often doesn’t arrive home from work until after 7 p.m. (this isn’t a complaint, just a reality) and there have been more than a few days that he’ll arrive home to me telling him I just want to face-plant into bed. (Side note: My back often feels totally destroyed by the end of the day from all the rocking, bouncing and soothing. I don’t remember this happening with Chase but the pain I feel in my mid/upper back is killer at the end of some of the rougher days! Has this happened to any of you!?)

As far as the impact of two kids on our marriage, all is well over here but in full transparency our time to really connect as a couple feels rather limited on a daily basis. I swear an entire week can easily go by where I feel like I’ve barely talked to my husband! By the time Ryan is home from work and we tackle the bedtime routine, the only thing I want to do is go to sleep and since we both seem to fall asleep the minute Ryder goes down for the night, it can be a little challenging to get that one-on-one time to talk and connect. We’re trying our best but many times during the week our conversations feel fragmented by bursts of one child needing this or that or family playtime. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love building airplanes or playing dragons with Chase, Ryder and Ryan but playing dragons with my husband is very different from actual adult communication!

It’s more clear than ever to me that we need to be intentional in our time together as a couple and we’re slowly getting into a better rhythm. I’m not quite ready to schedule a date night and leave Ryder with a babysitter (I still need to pump and get him used to taking a bottle again) but hopefully that isn’t too far off! In the meantime, we’re doing our best to keep communication open, acknowledge our feelings and lean on each other even if we’re not getting as much couple time as usual these days! Thankfully we both seem to understand that this time with a newborn is so fleeting and we are just trying to go with the flow and be great parents and great spouses even though the parenting role admittedly — and understandably — seems to be taking the front seat at the moment.

Sooo there you have it! A bazillion words and way more than you guys all probably cared to know about this postpartum period! I will likely do a followup post to this one in the coming weeks much like I did after Chase was born to address any lingering questions, so please let me know if there’s anything you’d like me to touch on that I may have missed! And if you made it to the end of this post, thank you so much for reading about this special and crazy time in our lives!

[Read More ...] https://www.pbfingers.com/the-great-big-postpartum-post/

[cubicscubedemon]

Good End

((This drabble is basically the beginning and the logical end of the permanent puppetry verse.))

………

Well, what to do now?

The end times had officially been a flop. All of Bill’s other creatures and underlings had vanished beyond the Shape’s ability to track them, along with Bill himself. The Nightmare Realm was now permanently closed and going through the last stages of its precarious lifespan. The only option had been to flee to anywhere that might support incorporeal form. There was nothing for it but to hide out in the Mindscape, alone, until a better opportunity came along.

The Shape found that opportunity in a body lying in the trees at the outskirts of a town. Still living—some substance or other had left the human mind that would normally be within wandering the Mindscape. The Shape approached the projection and put on a gentle, ethereal voice that didn’t quite need words. Do you mind if I enter?

If the human in question had been in a more lucid state, their reply would have sounded like: “Is this part of that cosmic consciousness thing they talk about?”

Absolutely, hummed the Shape. So, may I?

By now the human’s mind was drifting off in another direction, figuratively and literally. “Sure, I guess…”

Thank you, have a nice trip! the Shape called after the departing form, before diving into the now completely unoccupied body. Fingers twitched. Knees bent. Two eyes opened, and the Shape hauled themself to their feet. That was easy!

Once they had gotten used to walking (which took a while and scared a good decade out of a passing truck driver), they hiked down the road to figure out where they were in relation to a certain small town in Oregon. They had questions that needed answers.

…..

The full picture of what had happened in August of 2012 came to them in bits and pieces. It took longer than they expected—but then again, maybe it was understandable why the townsfolk were hesitant to speak at length to the stranger with magenta eyes that lived under a bridge in the park. One summer, after a complaint from a tourist to the sheriff, the Shape got thrown out. So they took up residence in Gravity Falls’ junkyard, and thought about the holes remaining in the story they had so far.

In the future, they sometimes wondered if they were really happy to have those holes filled in.

It was discovering Bill’s statue that finally made things completely clear. They had slowly put together its existence and whereabouts by eavesdropping on conversations between children. One part superstition, one part teasing, one part a strange reverence. They knew why their elders never spoke about the thing if they could help it.

“It’s in there? Really?”

“Yeah! Wanna see?”

“But—what happened to Ethan—“

“Well, he got better, didn’t he?”

“Nothing even happens if you don’t say his name.”

“Whose name?”

“Shhhh!”

…

“Hey, who’s that walking in?”

…

They knelt in front of the statue for nine hours. They didn’t say a word. They didn’t even touch the stone surface, always slightly warm even in the cool of the forest shade. They just stared and stared into the great lifeless eye, like they were hoping it would shift to look at them, or into them, instead of through them.

All their life in the Realm, all trillion-odd years of it, they’d imagined themself to be someone who threw off their chains, forged their own path instead of following one imposed upon them. Here, alone in the woods, they recognized that for a lie they’d told themself endlessly. They hadn’t accomplished anything more than following the triangle before them to the end. They were never going to see him again, and now they had no idea where to go, or whether there was anywhere to go.

It was all going to end here for them, too.

…..

But the Shape thought less and less about the end as time wore on. They couldn’t help it. There were just so many things to do!

For a while they entertained ideas about somehow escaping Earth and striking out into the Multiverse at large, but despite the many nights they stayed up by candlelight writing and sketching out their plans, nothing ever quite came to fruition. They occasionally told themself that progress was so slow because they lacked resources, or guidance, but mostly it was because they were distracted by other parts of their daily life. In time, they let go of their single-minded determination, and the Great Escape became nothing more than a daydream.

They liked building new additions onto the house they crafted in the junkyard, not far from where old Fiddleford McGucket used to live before he submitted his patents. Over the years their home became a sprawling, nonsensical structure that twisted all around the northeast corner of the yard, with multiple levels and trapdoor windows and even, at one point, a tower, until the sheriff made them take it down in exchange for being allowed to continue building underground.

And so the Shape turned the space beneath their home into a warren of tunnels and cellar rooms, taking the soil all the way up to the part of the roof that got the most sun. They’d discovered that they enjoyed gardening. (It was almost like a whole little world you could build! Imagine!)

In the spring, they buried baskets worth of pinecones up there, and once they had some saplings, took the baby trees to the edge of the forest they knew Bill rested in. All in all, they were responsible for increasing the reach of that section of the woods by over four hundred feet.

…..

In summer, they hung around the diner, drinking glass after glass of iced coffee and making small talk with truck drivers and road tripping college students as they passed through. They loved learning, and learned quite a bit indeed during these times. They got more pleasant to talk to, although they never lost their edge of…peculiarity. Depending on the day, you could find them either telling jokes that made one side of the diner chuckle and the other shudder, or deep in conversation about some esoteric topic with a few young people, entranced at how much first-hand experience this old stranger seemed to have with things they’d never known except through their books.

It was during one of these seasons that they started giving out a new name.

“Everybody, I want ya to meet…uh…say, bud, what’re you called?”

“Hm? Oh! I’m… Mm…Em. Call me Em.”

‘Lazy’ Susan Wentworth, who by now was half-retired from the diner, fixed her good eye on them. “Finally grew outta those other nicknames?”

‘Em’ stuck out their tongue at her in the most deliberately childish manner they could.

(But they figured there was some truth to what she said.)

…..

One autumn, they spent so much time in the library that the staff hired them. For the first few weeks, they didn’t know that this had actually happened, until their paycheck came.

“Em, dear, do you have a bank account?”

They thought of the small fortune they’d once won on Lottocron 9, and found they couldn’t remember which dimension’s banks they’d stored it in. “Not here, no. Why?”

“Well, I need to give you your pay.”

“Thank you! Pay for what?”

“Em, what did you think you were doing here for the past month?”

They shrugged. “Staying out of the rain?”

…

“I think they must hardly know the difference between work and play,” the head librarian told her co-workers over lunch in the back room.

“Still not sure about this,” one of them muttered. “Have you heard about what happened when Susan let them into the diner kitchen?”

“We haven’t got a deep freeze here!” the head librarian protested.

“I know you’ve got a soft spot for those in need, Lorraine, but you know they’re a…well…” the other woman pointed ceiling-ward and drew an X-mark in the air with her index finger.

“Well, yes, but that’s beside the point.” Lorraine picked up her fork in that way which meant she was keeping the upper hand in this little debate. “I’m from Coburg. They’re from some other planet or wherever. What’s the difference?”

…..

In winter, the town slept, and so did Em. They already had a lazy streak the rest of the year, but during the coldest part of the year they were especially sedentary, hardly leaving their junkyard house except to buy groceries and smokes, check on the saplings from the previous spring, or to sit on their own porch, having a cigarette and watching the ice twinkle on all the rusted metal around them. The rest of their time was spent in the cellar rooms, writing. They could fill up a four inch notebook in one season, but never shared the contents with a soul.

For all their gregariousness, they really did prefer to be solitary much of the time. One winter, a few middle schoolers were aiming snowballs at their windows. After several good shots and a cracked pane, Em emerged, the town weirdo, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, to return fire. The kids quickly found out that Em favored snowballs that contained shards of ice.

Later, those kids would buy Em cocktails at the bar, and joke that they were doing it for forgiveness. “Maybe I’ll consider the debt repaid next year,” Em always said.

…..

The passage of time, once something they couldn’t bear to consider, became a thing of fascination for them. Year after year, they watched Gravity Falls change with the seasons, and the transformation was not only dependable but fluid and beautiful. Em sat on their porch and thought about the way blood rose in a bruise and flowed away, and how comets stayed inert and frozen until they flew close to the sun, when ice and vapor streamed out behind them. Cycles were not a new concept to them. But they’d never had the chance before to truly understand what they were and what they meant. They used to think time was something small and divisive, a cell one had to break out of to achieve anything.

“But it looks downright grand from in here.”

…

Em lived about thirty years in Gravity Falls. Long enough for time to catch up with them. They did not get many visitors, but late one October, as the town’s thoughts were turning once again to the day the sky had torn open, a librarian entered the junkyard to see why they hadn’t shown up the day before.

It was determined that Em passed in their sleep, and that the cause of death was their smoking habit.

Found in their house was the following:

- Seventy-nine books they had stolen from the library, mostly nonfiction

- Dozens of batches of Halloween cookies, still not ideal but better than when they’d started baking

- The deed to the junkyard, which they took under the Finders Keepers Law

- An elaborate system of booby traps

- An entire cellar of homemade mechanical…things…that eventually got donated to a museum in another city, but were not displayed for the next decade

- Eight Cubics Cubes

- Hundreds and hundreds of letters to Em from several mystery correspondents. About 40% of the envelopes were marked with the Eye of Providence: these invariably contained deeply encrypted contents. None of those particular letters were more recent than over fifteen years ago.

- All of their notes, amounting to over six thousand pages. Much of it was also in code. Many drawings were included, of intricate geometrical patterns and charts, and alien machinery, among other things. The parts that were in readable English were a simple diary: these parts grew to outnumber the unreadable parts the more recent the writings were. Despite the library’s pleading, all of Em’s notes and letters were taken away that same day by an anonymous man in a brown leather jacket.

The funeral was very modest, but a few people still came to pay their respects. Lorraine was not there—she had died several years before—but most of the rest of the library staff were, along with a few regulars from the diner. The new head of the library had the wisdom not to make the eulogy very long.

“Em doesn’t have any kin that we know of, but I think they would’ve been alright with me saying a few words, instead…”

“They were always friendly enough to us. Did good work at the library. That’s not to say there weren’t some hiccups from time to time, but mostly they were a good librarian. They were a chatterbox, though, I remember they would go on about the strangest things…things that sounded like big old fibs until they’d take out a book and show us what it all meant. Y’all remember that business with the telescope and the dinosaurs?”

The assembled knew they were never Em’s friends. That had become clear to them that morning, as they watched the remains of Em’s private life come to light. The diary entries never once spoke of anyone in Gravity Falls as more than a passing amusement or curiosity. 

In the end, human life was still just a game, and Em had only been playing along. Until the end of the game had caught them unawares. Was it still ‘natural causes’ if you let yourself die accidentally?

“They did alright in the end, I think.”

The first spadeful of cold soil hit the casket.

“God rest their odd soul.”