#not even a disparaging comment from the big man himself!

[mamahersh]

@a-mag-a-day Righto, MAG 009!

So I remember a little bit from when I listened to this the first time: I was immediately curious because it was from the perspective of a serial killer's daughter. Like, obviously not a real serial killer's daughter, but the premise intrigued me as I used to listen to Sword and Scale true crime podcast when I would go to the gym. So already we had this gal who's had to face a lot of stigma in her life for things outside her control, and then she has to deal with the supernatural on top of that? Very interesting.

Alas, for all I started interested, I've forgotten most of her statement beyond the fact she was a daughter of a serial killer, and this in part was what pushed her into the Hunt if I remember right. I'm about to find out tho, so I'll get back to this…

So in summary, Julia's dad killed 41 people in service to the Dark to keep Julia safe after his wife (who was part of the People's Church of the Divine Host) was eaten by a creature of the Dark. He did this seemingly on behalf of the People's Church under the orders of Maxwell Rayner and was basically turned into a full time murderer funded by either the cult or Rayner himself. Of some note is that we know for sure that the last person Robert Montauk killed was a member of the cult, a Christopher Lorne (who I'm fairly certain is just a one off character). This opens up the floor to several questions:

Robert told Julia "it would soon be over" and then went to kill a cult member. At the same time, his house was attacked by the Dark, and Julia was only saved because Robert's sacrifice banished the creature seemingly. So the question is: were any of his other victims cult members or were they all innocents and this was Robert trying to sent a message to the cult?

Similarly, did he know that whatever he was doing would potentially put Julia at risk and cause her to feel like she needed to call the cops? (probably not honestly, or at least I don't think he expected her to call the cops. But, I wouldn't be surprised if he was planning on calling the cops on himself after he was done with the ritual.)

Also of note: this series of events were a good 10-13 years before the actual Dark Ritual. Could Robert have, in his own way, been trying to sabotage the plans of the cult from the inside out with his last sacrifice? Obviously Julia had never noticed anything weird happening with the shed previously at night, so potentially there was something different happening with this sacrifice.

Of final interest to me personally is we get a really good outline of what physical signs are associated with the Dark: extinguishing of lights and dark, muddy, "brackish" water and closed eyes. What's interesting to note is the addition of the polluted water in these signs. I wonder if that was pulled from popular Lovecraftian mythos imagery? Honestly, the Dark seems to most frequently pull from the Lovecraftian mythos, particularly surrounding Dagon and the fish people from "Shadow Over Innsmouth"; though the symbology and weird esoterica would be closer to something like "The Dunwich Horror" impo. However, I'm not well versed in horror, so perhaps there's another source of inspiration. I know even just pulling from games like "The Call of Cthulhu" would make just as much sense or even Silent Hill.

Anyways, I've wandered into the weeds. Needless to say, this was quite the episode and I had forgotten it entirely tbh. It's so interesting to go back and listen to these episodes again now that I know about the Fears and the larger cast of characters and see how they all connect to each other. Also, I think this might be the most credulous we've heard Mr. Jonathan Sims be for his end of Statement commentary.

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 4/23

What am I feeling today?

Honestly, I feel guilty for not posting my quiet times lately. I’ve been learning some incredible things and it’s selfish to keep it to myself and also not useful to me if I don’t have it written down anywhere because then I forget! Also, I’m feeling overwhelmed, it’s my last week of the semester and I’m worried about school, the fashion show, and women’s day at my church because they’re all happening within this next week and it’s just a lot on my plate because I want to be able to achieve it all to the best of my ability.

The Prideful Soul’s Guide to Humility

Reality Will Not Change

Man will never succeed in his effort to pull himself up to the level of God, and he certainly will never be in a position where he will be able to look down on God. Cocky, arrogant man may make disparaging comments about God. He may ridicule God. He may prance and strut around as though he is more clever than God. He may boast that he does not need God. He may live as though he is "the master of his fate and the captain of his soul." But one day he will stand in the presence of the righteous and holy God, and he will tremble as he realizes that he was never greater than God. It was all an absurd, fool-hearted and deadly game of pretending. Isaiah describes such a man

Isaiah 14:12-17 NIV

“How you have fallen from heaven, morning star, son of the dawn! You have been cast down to the earth, you who once laid low the nations! You said in your heart, “I will ascend to the heavens; I will raise my throne above the stars of God; I will sit enthroned on the mount of assembly, on the utmost heights of Mount Zaphon. I will ascend above the tops of the clouds; I will make myself like the Most High.” But you are brought down to the realm of the dead, to the depths of the pit. Those who see you stare at you, they ponder your fate: “Is this the man who shook the earth and made kingdoms tremble, the man who made the world a wilderness, who overthrew its cities and would not let his captives go home?””

This ruler that Isaiah is describing once exercised authority over many. So expansive was his power that he fantasized that he could make himself like the Most High. But his glory was short-lived, and he ended up just like the other men in the shame of the grave.

So it will be with every pride. ful soul that does not bow in humility before the God who made him. Nothing man can do will change reality. He is not God. He will never be God. As long as he ignores that truth, his life will be headed for a disastrous conclusion. For God opposes the proud.

James 4:6 NIV

“But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says: “God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble.””

1 Peter 5:5 NIV

“In the same way, you who are younger, submit yourselves to your elders. All of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, because, “God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble.””

The Truth Sets You Free

Jesus taught, "You shall know the truth and the truth will set you free." Even those who do not acknowledge Jesus as the Christ agree that this is the highest kind of wisdom. Universities place this saying over their doors. Scientists are fiercely committed to finding the truth. Whenever you ask for guidance or counsel, you want to get it from someone who is fully in touch with the truth.

When you make decisions on the most important issues in your life, you need to be in touch with the most central truths of life. The most important truth any of us can ever know is that there is a God, but we are not him. Any confusion about either one of those things gets us into big trouble. There is a great and powerful God who wants a relationship with us and who will use his amazing power to bless our lives, but we are the creatures and he is the Creator. Everything we have, we have from his hand. Have you done some great things? Have you received some recognition for accomplishments? If so, you did those things with the mind and strength God gave you. Without him you would be nothing.

As Paul said to the proud Athenians: “He himself gives all men life and breath and everything else” (Acts 17:25)

The basis for humility, then, is quite simple. Humility is the only thing that makes sense because of how eternal and unchanging and powerful God is and how fading and precarious and dependent we are. Nothing you do in your life will ever change that. People are sometimes humble until they enjoy some great success. What fools we can be! A little success, achieved by the grace of God, does not change the nature of reality. It does not change who you are and who God is.

To live in accordance with the truth, we all need to practice the presence of God. We need to live all the time just as if we were standing in the presence of someone very important because we are. Think of some recent prideful thing you did. Would you have done that if you had been aware that you were standing in the very presence of the holy, righteous and almighty God? Would you have treated your friend the way you did? Would you have treated your spouse the way you did? Would you have taken the credit that you took? Would you have been defensive when corrected?

This is such a good reminder for me because sometimes I don’t think about the fact that everything I do is in the presence of God. I can go about my day ignoring Him sometimes or thinking He’s not around to see certain things but that so blind and ignorant! He’s literally watching me right now and every moment of my life! I need to go about the days of my life acknowledging Him because He’s everywhere!

[popopretty]

The Day I Picked Up Dazai - Side A (2)

Links to Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Final

Continuation from Part 1.

This is from Side A of the Dazai novel which was given out as free bonus for those who come to the cinema to watch the BEAST live action movie in Japan.

Please carefully read the notes below before progressing.

- This post contains spoilers. It is not a summary, but a full translation of one part of novel. So if you plan to read the novel later yourself and think this would ruin your expectation, please stop here.

· I tried to keep the translation as accurate as possible, but as I don't speak English or Japanese as my native language, I may make some mistakes or use weird words etc. This translation might not be final. I may come back and fix it later if I find any mistakes.

· This is a moviegoers-only benefit, so please be extra careful when discussing it about on Twitter. Use a #spoiler tag on your tweets or your fanarts. You can share the links to this post but don't take many screenshots.

· Don’t retranslate it. [UPDATE MAY 9, 2023] You can retranslate it but please keep in mind that my translation is not perfect and some meanings will be lost through re-translation. If you are not sure about the meaning at any part, please let me know! Don’t repost this translation anywhere else out of Tumblr.

· DON’T GO TO THE AUTHORS’ OR OFFICIAL TWITTERS TO COMMENT ABOUT THE CONTENTS OF IT.

I'm sorry if that's too much but honestly all I want is for everyone to have a good experience, for those who wants to read the novels to be able to read the novels, and for those who don't want to be spoiled, to be safe from it as much as possible.

If you have read and are okay with all the above, please continue to move forward and enjoy the novel. Have a good day!

...

Dazai is a strange guy in every possible way.

His eyes remind me of a burnt black cat, his build reminds me of a burnt black cat, his presence reminds me of a burnt black cat. He has a tone that sinks into the abyss of the spirit, and deep, dark eyes that seem to hold the conviction that the sun will never rise again. He is a man of few words. And his voice has the sound of severance that rejects mutual understanding from the very beginning. No one could understand him. No one ever will. And he himself knows that very well. That kind of voice.

It seems true that he wants to die. It seems that all the value standards of living reflected in his eyes are just as worthless and ugly as scrap iron. I don’t understand why. Perhaps the day when I understand will never come. He seems to know that too.

That is why he wants to go outside. The only way to quickly end the pain of his wounds and achieve his desired “big sleep” is to leave my house. However, he is even cut off from death, because I prevent him from escaping.

And that is when Dazai decides to complain about my existence to the very end. He actually has a lot of complaints, about meals, sleep, and other pastimes. One after another, he will find faults in my nursing, criticize, and roast me in the most disparaging way possible. There is nothing that can escape his criticism. He is simply a tyrant. I could have whimpered like a nine-year-old girl.

However, I am actually fine. Because I know that Dazai’s criticism is nothing more than an act he put on to serve his purpose. To discourage me. To depress me through and through, until I’m sick of him and kick him out of my door like I don’t care anymore. That will be his victory. So, I am fine, no matter what I am told. In reality, he must have been very impressed with my proper and adequate nursing.

For example, it goes like this.

“Hey you! The porridge is hot. I can’t eat it like this!”

“Hey, it’s really too hot. You know I can’t use my hands because I’m tied up right?? No no, I told you. Stop forcing it into my mouth… It’s hot! It’s hottttt!”

“I’m eating, I’m eating! Don’t bring another one! Arghhh! Wait… can’t move…. Gyaaahhh!! It’s in my eye! It hurts! It’s hot!! It hurts!!!!!”

“Come on. The toilet is limited to twice a day? Do something about that, won’t you? Even Port Mafia’s prisoners have a little more freedom.”

“Hey, I told you to deal with the boredom, but reading books to me? It’s not something you do with someone this age, you know? And it’s all the same book. And it doesn’t have the last few pages so I don’t even know the ending! Is this torture? A new type of torture?”

Very realistic acting.

I ignore him and just continue with my nursing.

My dedication pays off. After a few days, the young man’s eyes are all dead and exhausted. He speaks in a faint voice.

“I can’t… get through to him. This guy… He is a natural airhead.”

I don’t really understand what he means by it, but after that, Dazai has become more obedient to what I say.

From then on, Dazai changes his strategy. Instead of complaining about the daily nursing, he starts to make very specific demands about food, especially the ingredients. I suppose he wants me to give up. But I am a man of patience and consistency. And I am also a practical person who believes that someone whose hands are wrapped around like that needs a proper distraction. I then become an amiable cook.

His first request is for pufferfish’s organ sashimi. That is a rare ingredient. I go to the fish market to look for it, but the owner there tells me, “Are you stupid or what?” so I give up. Next is grilled amanita virosa. It is a kind of mushroom. The white and beautiful one I heard. This time, I also walk around the mountain to search but I can’t find any. Since the locals never eat this type of mushroom, I thought there should be quite some left in the mountain. What a pity. When I end up serving him the stir-fried dish made from the wild vegetables I happen to find on the way back from my search, Dazai looks at me with grudgeful eyes as if he is going to kill me, while saying “It’s delicious.”

The last dish is potato sprout salad. This one is just ingredients, so it is easy to get. However, I don’t have enough time to wait for them to sprout and get enough of them, so I have no choice but to serve them to him as a sandwich, instead of a salad. Dazai is strangely happy to eat it, but later that night he vomits a lot, while writhing in pain “It is not enough…!” To want to eat something even if it makes him vomit like that, he must like it a lot. It is a moment of hard work paid off for me.

(TN: In case you haven't realized it, everything Dazai requested above is super poisonous and can kill you if you eat them. xD)

On another day, I got this kind of complaint.

“You know, I understand very well that you don’t have any other intention rather than treating me.” Dazai says, flapping his two arms that have finally become free. By the way, his two legs are still tied to the bed. “But I have too much free time! No reading, no phone calls, no video or radio broadcast whatsoever, only some music from those records! I have memorized so many songs that I can start performing tomorrow. You really don’t have anything else? Any real entertainment?”

“No.”

“What’s with the immediate answer…? What on earth do you usually do living in this house?”, Dazai looks at me with a frightened face.

“Then how about playing a game?” I sit down on the chair in the room. “The people who lived in this house before happen to leave behind a deck of cards.”

“I know. It was left on the bookshelf.” Dazai makes a suspicious face. “But I’m not ten years old. Playing cards alone doesn’t make an entertainment at all.”

“I see… Then let’s bet on something?” I says as I take the cards out of the box.

For a second, Dazai’s eyes shine sharply like a blade. “Hmm. But do you even have anything to bet on? You don’t look like you have that much money.”

It is true. I don’t have that much money.

“Then how about this?”, I take out a chess board from the shelf and place sixteen white pieces and sixteen black pieces in front of us. “These are going to be our chips. We will play poker with them as our stakes. Texas Hold’em Heads Up rule. Opening bet is one piece. There is no upper limit. If you manage to win my whole bankroll of sixteen pieces, I will give you the right to freely leave this house.”

“Eh?” Dazai narrows his eyes. “Are you sure about that? You have quite some confidence there. So what if you win? Should I give you all my hidden assets too?”

“There is no point in using something that is not here right now, as I have no way to confirm things like your assets and such.”

“These fake notes then…”

“I absolutely don’t need that.” I push back the wad of notes that Dazai just takes out. “Let’s see. How about revealing one of your secrets every time you lose sixteen pieces?”

“Secret?” Dazai chuckles. “You did give it some thought, didn’t you?”

That is a suggestion based on my selfish calculation.

The problem now is that there is a chance Dazai will come back for revenge after he is healed and released from here. And there is nothing I can do to prevent that. There is no wall in this world that can resist the fierce retaliation of the Port Mafia. I need some kind of insurance. At least something that looks like an insurance. If I can get just a little bit of information about this identity, his secrets, his intentions, it can be helpful in preventing that to happen. Of course, even if I hear his secrets now, there is no way for me to confirm them. That is why it’s only for the ease of mind. If I can get more than one secret out of him, that ease will deepen somewhat.

“Haha, interesting. You are thinking of taking a bunch of secrets from me?” Dazai smiles a distorted smile. “It has been so long, since someone has been so determined to win against me.”

“I’m glad you got in the mood.” I say as I deal the cards. “Ready?”

“Anytime you wish.”

Two cards are dealt in front of me and two cards in front of Dazai, all facing down. Before I deal the next card, Dazai says, “You seem like a fair person. So, I will tell you a trick.”

“Trick?”

“The one who suggested this game were you, but the one who guided you to it was me.” Dazai looks at me with deep tranquil eyes. “I already confirmed that there were playing cards on the shelf, and there seemed to be nothing else to pass the time. We both had little to bet. It was obvious that we would settle with the conclusion that we should bet on my freedom. If it were another conclusion, I would just make a bigger fuss. And just like that I was able to draw out the game I desired from you.”

“I see.” I stare at the expression on his face. “Then it means you also expect to win?”

“Yeah.” Dazai says with a smile that seems to glimmer in the darkness. “This kind of game, I have never lost once.”

There is no hint of bluff or humor. He is serious.

“That is why” Dazai says as he pushes the first bet piece forward. “You will not get to hear a single secret from me for eternity.”

30 minutes later.

“The passcode for Port Mafia’s emergency armed vault is…7280285E.”

Dazai speaks with his dead face on the desk.

“You have so many secrets.” I speak in admiration.

“Of course I do! I’m the head of the special force under Boss’s direct command.” Dazai bawls out. “Argggh what the heck is going on? There goes most of my personal information. It’s humiliating!!!”

This is the eighteenth game, and I have won all of them. His address, his subordinates’ skills, time of joining the Mafia, total amount of money he has on hand, what he does in the organization, his favorite food, location of secret vaults, the fact that his current boss called Mori was once an underground doctor etc.

All the eighteen secrets Dazai have told me are so out of the ordinary that I can’t help but believe he is really an important person in the Port Mafia. In fact, I probably have heard too much. There are not many people on earth who know the background of Port Mafia’s boss – Yokohama’s Taishan Fujun. (TN: Name of a God in China, who is said to be in charge of the life and death of mortal beings on earth) The number of people who are still alive after learning about that is a different story.

Dazai puts his face down on the desk in despair. He sure did have a lot of confidence.

“You… cheated, didn’t you?”

Dazai stares at me, his gaze as sticky as mud. I tilt my head.

“Cheated?”

“I noticed it halfway. That’s a skill. You used some kind of skills to foresee how the games will unfold. I let my guard down at first because I thought skills wouldn’t work on me. But if you have used your skill not on me, but on the place itself, then that would explain that disgusting foreseeing of yours.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to hide it.” I speak as I sort out the cards.

My skill allows me to look into the very near future. Not less than 5 seconds, not more than 6 seconds from the present. That’s why I am able to see everything, from the next development of the game, the next stake to be made, to the next card that will come out. On extremely rare occasions, during months when I am in a tight spot for money, I will go to the casino and use this skill of mine to grab some easy money and go home.

“It sure was not fair.” I honestly admit. “Just like you, I have never lost in this kind of gambling before. Let’s void this game. From the beginning, I just wanted to help you kill time.”

“We can’t void it!” Dazai looks at me with protesting eyes. “We can’t even if we want to! If what we bet on was money, you would just need to return it to me in full. But I gave you information! You know that you don’t lose information even if you return it, right? What else can you do? Can you completely forget everything that you have heard and seen at will?”

“If that is the only way, then I will try.”

“Hahhhh???” Dazai looks so tired. “Your jokes are not funny. After all, you are always saying them with a straight face. Somehow I can’t take them as jokes at all.”

I tilt my head. “I didn’t mean to make a joke though…”

“’kay kay.” Dazai turns to the side with a sulky face. “Argg damn it, Mori-san will scold me for leaking so many organization’s information.”

I give it some thoughts then ask, “Who is that… Mori-san?”

Dazai looks astonished. “You really… forgot it?”

…..

[ashesandhackles]

The Hogwarts Express scene in Prince's Tale: A Sirius and Snape analysis

I really, really enjoy Sirius and Snape as characters and their respective narrative functions in story. But what gets me most about them is how much Rowling hints about their backgrounds and so much of it makes sense with regard to who they are as adults. So I am going to be breaking down a very small scene from Prince Tale and getting into long winded hypothesis about their respective childhoods.

So, let's start with Snape. The scene begins with Snape rushing to find Lily, already in his Hogwarts clothes. Harry notes he must have been eager to get out of his clothes - ones that look like he borrowed from his mother, as Petunia spitefully pointed out. This has always been a very interesting detail to me - first off, it indicates how poor Snape's family is. Second, this indicates his tiny rebellion from his father - he refuses to wear clothes of the abusive man, and prefers his mother's. I admit, I am partial to the reading that Snape refuses to associate with his father in tiny ways, rather than Tobias refusing to hand his son clothes.

(I have seen readings which say that it is also a sign of neglect - perhaps his parents bought clothes that simply don't fit him, but I am more inclined to think it's a hand me down, simply because Harry identifies so strongly with it. Because Harry knows what it is like to wear a hand me down that don't quite fit, that are too big for you, or the ones that make you look ridiculous.)

Lily and Petunia's relationship is fraught with Petunia's jealousy. And young Lily is upset over it when Snape meets her. "I am not talking to you. Tuney hates me" she tells him. "Because we saw the letter from Dumbledore". Young Lily shows signs of being extremely emotionally reactive and this scene is one of them. It's easier for her to deal with Petunia's rejection of her by telling Snape she doesn't want to talk to him. It's a childish displacement of her hurt over her sister's rejection. (I am genuinely baffled by interpretations that Lily and Hermione are similar. Hermione is very cognitive person, Lily, as we have been shown repeatedly in memories, is not).

Snape, however, with his bad history with Petunia and his inability/ poor social skills to understand why this matters to her, goes: "So what?"

Lily, who throws him a look of deep dislike, says "So she's my sister". This seed is important because this is what develops into "he doesn't get me" feeling she later displays in her teenage scenes with him. Interestingly, most of Lily's personal relationships have deeply interwined love and dislike - Petunia (whose rejection bothers her but she cheerfully informs Sirius that Harry nearly broke a vase her sister sent - which means there is resentment on her end too), James - who she was attracted to even before 7th year but also disliked at one point, and Snape - again, a contentious friendship filled with love and distance.

"She's only a -" we dont get to hear what Snape intended to say. And given his own acrimony with Petunia, it could be anything. However, I read it as "She's only a Muggle" because it ties into his feelings about his father. Snape, who is proud of being half a Prince, emphasizing his magical lineage from his mother's side, his refuge in a violent, neglectful home. (Barty Crouch Jr and Snape with their disappointing fathers - I imagine Voldemort is supremely attractive leader to people with broken homes like this)

Snape, by all accounts, shows a disorganised attachment style. His caregiver, his mother - and perhaps the only parent he seems to have regard for, is too preoccupied by her own abuse to be there for her son - we see this in glimpses Harry sees in OOTP: " woman cowering" where a man shouts at her, and a young, neglected Snape cries in the corner. Children born in homes like this have trouble regulating their emotions, simultaneously displaying tendencies to aggressively lash out or show disassociative symptoms. Both of which Snape displays. Statistically, this is also seen more in low income households where economic instability and resulting domestic instability creates an unsafe environment for the kids to safely form ideas of their identity, or express emotions in healthy ways, modelling instead out of behaviour seen at home.

Then, Snape reminds her that they are going to Hogwarts. He is already in his Hogwarts clothes - now, Snape gets to be the impressive figure. The one who told her about magic, who theorised about how Muggles get letters from magical people, the one who told her about Dementors and Azkaban. He has already left behind the Spinner's End version of him, he wants to bigger than that, and is keen to be in place of magical learning and to join Slytherin. Essentially, he shows signs of unstable identity, insecurity - all prime for grooming into a cult.

And here comes along James Potter, who looks around at the mention of Slytherin. James's comment uses Snape's line and directs it to Sirius instead and it becomes a conversation between them, as a way to bond more with a fellow "rowdy boy" Sirius. Effectively ignoring the other two.

Sirius as we see here, "does not smile" when James talks about Slytherin. He essentially says something that can be construed as a way to nip that conversation in bud: "My whole family has been in. Slytherin". This suggests to me that there is some loyalty to his family there and his disillusionment with them isn't entirely fixed yet. After all, Sirius's intense loyalty to his friends, more specifically James, did not come out of thin air. It is reasonable to suggest that he felt some loyalty to his family at some point and the intensity with which he regards his friends is a reaction to burned off and being a "displaced person without a family" as Rowling put it.

Interestingly, while his reaction to his mother and Bellatrix are obviously sore spots, his response to Regulus is comparatively quite soft. ("Stupid, idiot" - something he calls James later on in the same book, OOTP). I imagine Sirius has quite complicated feelings about his brother and he is capable of nuance (when the person isn't Snape, where his dislike seems to be borne of an intense projection): "The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters". As someone who is grown up among them, Sirius would understand that.

His framing of Regulus's need to please his parents also further highlights what exactly is the source of disillusionment. He calls Regulus "soft enough to believe them" - which means he is crediting his own intelligence to see through his parents bigoted world view. Clearly, bigotry is not something the Blacks explained in a way that Sirius, eldest of their male line and their heir, bought it. It also probably didn't help the Blacks case that Grimmauld Place is in a Muggle neighborhood and that their eldest son is a bit of a wild boy with interest in pushing boundaries. His intellectual disconnect leads to the righteous rage he later feels but it began there. (Boy, it must suck to discover that everything you have been taught to value in the world and in yourself as the heir is essentially rubbish). Since his differences with his family began with seeds of intellectual disconnect rather than on intense empathy with downtrodden, it makes him, as a pureblooded privileged boy, unable to truly understand Lupin's fears regarding his lycanthropy. Hence, the Werewolf prank (I am not getting to the Snape bit, just the Lupin bit). To James' credit, he does understand what that means for Lupin and saves all three of them from different set of consequences.

Anyway, back to the scene. James, who has made an ass of himself in front of his new friend, who he was getting along with fine until now, then goes "Blimey, I thought you seemed alright". (Btw, I find James wildly large ego kind of hilarious here, especially in light of Snape's comment about him to Sirius in OOTP: "You will know he is so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him"). Sirius, who I believe has been raised like "royalty" as Blacks would, has good enough social skills to defuse a situation. He grins and says: "Maybe I will break the tradition".

This line is an indication of Sirius's desire for independence, an identity seperate from his family. The use of the word "tradition" is interesting. It sounds like Sirius is expected to behave in a certain way, the heir of Black family whose parents thought being a Black "made you practically royal". Adult Sirius is contemptuous of this, or their "valuable contribution to Ministry" which means they just gave gold - it tells me that any and all conditions put on him by his family were to fulfill tradition that is either worthless or holds no meaning in his eyes. The root of the emotional abuse Sirius suffers from his family is this - realising his parents love for him is conditional on him being a certain way. (In fact, you can read Regulus desire to emphasise his connection to the family as a reaction to what he sees with Sirius - Sirius does not behave, Mum and Dad don't love him). As a child with unconscious knowledge of lack of love, Sirius then acts out, they react, rinse and repeat "until he has had enough". Sirius chafes against boundaries well into adulthood and doesn't react well to people enforcing it on him, even if it is out of love for him. Cue the fire scene with Harry where he behaves as if Harry is rejecting him instead of protecting him.

Sirius asks James about where he wants to go, and Snape, who is incensed about James being insulting about a House he put stock in, which he made part of new identity (so that he is no longer that Snape boy from Spinner's End) and was in general trying to be impressive about in front of Lily, "makes a disparaging noise" once James talks of Gryffindor. Snape's response to James' : "Got a problem with that?" is interesting. He says: "If you'd rather be brawny, rather than brainy-"

This is an important value for Snape. He knows he is clever and values it. He spends his spare time inventing hexes, making great shortcuts to Potions. He has genuine thirst for learning and he hones it. In SWM, we see that he has written far more longer answers than anyone else, he is poring over his paper after exams. He even mocks Hermione's lack of inventive answers: "Answer copied word to word from the textbook, but correct in essentials". He values originality. It may be me stretching this, but I am partial to the reading: this is his way of rejecting his father once again, who is implied to be a violent man. (in other words, someone who is hypermasculine - "brawny". In fact, Snape's rejection of hypermasculinity is a huge post on it's own - Potions (brewing, cauldrons - coded as feminine arts), the doe Patronus, his proficiency in Occlumency and Legliemency (intuitive mind arts, again seen archetypically feminine) etc).

"Where are you hoping to go, seeing as you are neither?" - Sirius is quick with emotionally cutting insults. Snape hasn't even finished his sentence, but Sirius is already on his case. Which suggests growing up in a household with sharp tongues. It's a fair assumption, given Mrs Black's half mad portrait. It also tallies with Sirius's talking about his mother: "My mother didn't have a heart Kreacher, she kept herself alive out of pure spite" . The wounds are fresh enough on this. (Another interesting way Snape and Sirius act as inverse mirrors - Snape rejects his father, Sirius rejects his mother. Sirius acts as proxy for James for Harry while Snape takes on Lily's role of protecting him). However, you know who else is spiteful? Sirius.

While James is the physical bully (the tripping Snape, doing most of the bullying in SWM), Sirius attacks emotionally. ( Sample the one about Snape's appearance - "I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment, there will be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word" or even the carelessly vicious- "Put that away, before Wormtail wets himself in excitement"). Curiously, with all that talk of how his mother being spiteful, it's her room he spends time in when he is depressed. (Again, in inverse mirror way, we can talk of how Snape looks for a father figure in Dumbledore - craves his validation and is proud of Dumbledore's trust in him). We could argue it's also because Buckbeak is there, and perhaps it's the largest room in the house, but it's very telling that's where Sirius spends time when he is "in a fit of sullens". Sirius's sense of abandonment from his family, makes him look for family connections with friends - a trait he shares with Harry. Interestingly, the first time he glimpses Harry in Privet Drive, Harry is also running away from home - just like he did. Anyway, I could go on.

[bigskydreaming]

Its not complicated. When Dick’s siblings continuously make fun of not things or experiences they share in common with him from their time together as family, but JUST the things that stem from where he comes from, the things he keeps as reminders of his parents and first home, ‘they’re siblings’ doesn’t excuse them any more than when snobby Gotham socialites make the same comments.

Dick’s name - he keeps it not as an invitation to make fun of him or call him an asshole, but because its what his parents called him.

Dick’s costumes - he made not to be fashionable but to remind him of home, of the circus.

Dick’s showy moves - he makes not to grandstand and be the center of attention, but because that’s the way his parents taught them to him. They’re MEANT to be performative. He’s a PERFORMER as much as a vigilante. And that’s not a commentary on his PERSONALITY, because he doesn’t do that because he wants to rub others’ faces in being better than them at acrobatics or whatever, due to some particular insecurity or need to overcompensate....he’s a performer not due to ISSUES but due to HIS FAMILY’S CHOSEN LIFESTYLE. There are different kinds of showing off. There’s doing it to impress, and there’s doing it because the moves you were taught were literally designed to show off feats of acrobatics that wow and amaze and get people to buy tickets? Like....

And we all know the story with Robin - nah, they don’t make fun of him for that one, just hate and resent him for ever daring to act proprietary about the thing he made out of the vestiges of his first home and family long before he ever knew he’d have siblings or successors.

Now to recap - when the SPECIFIC things that people make fun of Dick for in fics are....his name, his costumes, his showy moves.....

They’re not making fun of HIM, because none of those things originated with HIM or just because he randomly felt like making any of those a thing.

They’re making fun of where he came from, WHO he came from. There’s no ifs, ands or buts about it. No matter how much you want it to be otherwise, when Jason calls Dick a Dickhead, he’s not making a clever sibling in-joke, he’s making fun of the fact that its even Dick’s name at all. And as siblings, that would be one thing if that name were given to him by the parent they BOTH share.

But its not.

Dick didn’t pick that name out of a hat, he keeps it because of his parents.

Ergo, no matter how you spin it, when Jason or anyone else makes fun of that name to any degree at all, or uses it as an insult, its not a joke or insult at DICK’S expense.

But at his PARENTS.

And see, that’s why it would be fine as a sibling joke if it came from a parent they both share. Because Jason or one of the other siblings would be making fun of a SHARED parent choosing that name for Dick, and Dick refusing to part with it for whatever reason. Jason or another sibling would to some degree, still be ‘in’ on the joke being made. Still included within the circle of family that the joke is ACTUALLY about, at the expense of.

But Dick’s parents and the things they gave him have NOTHING to do with ANY of his other siblings, except for Robin, and that only with the blessing Dick bestowed on each of them TO share it.

They don’t exist for anyone BUT Dick to ‘approve’ of. They’re not kept by Dick for anyone else to weigh in on. They’re kept out of sentimentality.

So when the others joke about or attack these specific things of Dick’s....

HE is not the target, and siblinghood doesn’t make it go down any easier.

They’re attacking and making fun of his SENTIMENTALITY, about a part of his family they have NO connection to themselves.

And this makes them no different from any other Gothamite or hero making fun of....Dick’s name, the performative nature of his movements, his costumes. 

Because their connection to where these come from doesn’t exist anymore than it does for any of those other people.

And why exactly do you think Dick is okay with people continuously punching down at his PARENTS’ choices for him?

See the nuance there?

And when you, the author, think its hilarious commentary to have characters poke fun at the things that literally ONLY stem from Dick’s origins....from an in-universe perspective, how is your commentary any different from that of the snobby socialite characters you use the other family members to disparage for being....snobby and elitist about various Wayne family members’ origins? Why do you think Dick’s origins are an acceptable exemption here, and do you think MAYBE. POSSIBLY. There are certain....commonalities in the snobby elitism that you claim drives these Gothamite NPCs to look down on various Waynes and uh.....you....doing...the...same thing?

Juuuuuust wondering.

NOW.

Cuz we’re not done.

On to Damian.

Yes, yes. The Demon Brat. The Demonspawn.

Called that, because well, its obvious right? He’s the grandson of the Demon’s Head.

Who......Damian hates?

Willfully turned his back on, by choice?

Deliberately chose to reject, along with his philosophy and his ways, when he embraced the Batfamily’s credos instead? When he devoted himself to THEIR chosen path, rather than....that of the Demon’s Head?

Who by his own conscious volition, THREW AWAY his unasked for associations with Ra’s, to CLAIM his Wayne associations as the ones he wanted instead?

This is a family of choice, we’re all agreed on there.

So.....you guys know that Damian, while yes, ‘the blood son’....ALSO made a choice right? When he chose THEM....instead of...Ra’s?

And that’s.....kinda a big deal?

And also, let’s not forget, uh....Ra’s doesn’t give a shit about Damian and just wants his body to wear like a three-piece suit? Yeah, lotta loving associations for Damian there.

Every time the others call Damian a Demon Brat or Demonspawn, you’re essentially having them say no matter WHAT Damian’s done to distance himself from Ra’s, who he NEVER HAD A CHOICE in being tied to by birth....

They won’t let him have that distance.

He will always be linked to the Demon’s Head....even in his own family’s eyes. His family, who otherwise all prioritize their CHOSEN connections with the Wayne family over their OWN origins.

.....why exactly do you feel Damian would be falling over himself to like them and be nice to them as long as they keep doing that, when he’s ALREADY done a bajillion things to prove he rejects Ra’s and wants nothing to do with the man or anything he supposedly could or would offer Damian?

(Especially when again, the only thing Ra’s has ever ACTUALLY wanted to offer Damian was an eviction notice for his own body so Ra’s could take up residence).

Idk guys, I’m just saying its kinda funny to have the other siblings resent Dick and Damian for being so much closer to each other than them, when like, your own fics continuously have Dick and Damian being the only ones to actually accept each other’s origins and NOT make fun of them or use them as a weapon against the two of them.

Anyway. Food for thought.

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

Hardhat Daddy Part 3

Originally titled the Lowes Sugar Baby Au because I couldn’t think of a name. I don’t know that I like this one either but 🤷‍♀️ Did I forget about this story, maybe so, but back at it again. 

Part 1    Part 2

Hardhat Daddy Part 3

Billy is less than pleased with their current audience as Steve helps him place his order but Steve is still in training so he supposes it cannot be helped.

 Robin is out in front of the counter keeping Shelby occupied with plenty of pets and biscuits and she pops her head up to glare at Keith when he makes the first disparaging comment about Steve when he runs into an issue with the computer. 

 Billy is already glaring the man down and Robin levels him with an assessing look before nodding her head and giving all of her attention back to Shelby who is more than ready for all of the belly rubs being offered.

 It has been five minutes of Steve’s eyes on the computer, brow wrinkled as he tries to figure out whatever is messing up the entire count.

“Dingus try separating the lines with a piece of paper and say the numbers out loud.” Robin calls offering Shelby another biscuit.

 "Right, thanks Robin." Steve murmurs to himself as he distractedly reaches out for a piece of paper and Billy slides one closer for him.

 Steve pauses for a moment, giving Billy a pleased smile that has Billy’s own features softening as he smiles back before Steve turns back to his computer and Billy goes back to glaring down Keith.

 Keith lasts another five minutes under the pressure of Billy’s glare before he has had enough, Steve has managed to find one error only to realize there is another one hiding somewhere when Keith pushes him out from behind the computer with a “Move I’ll do it.”

 “But Keith, how will I ever learn?” Steve asks with an eyes roll, laughing as he darts out of the way of Keith throwing a hand out before leaning in front of Billy again grinning.

 “Hey big guy sorry about the wait.” Steve bats his eyelashes looking anything but sorry and Billy honestly does not care about the wait, not when he gets to keep looking at Steve.

 “It’s fine sugar, where am I taking you tonight?” Billy asks with his own grin as Steve’s fingers find his skin, dancing across his forearm. 

 “Some place real fancy, you have to impress me after all, it has to be expensive.” Steve’s cheeks pop as his grin widens and Billy is pretty sure he has something on his lips making them that particular shade but he cannot be sure, definitely hopes to find out tonight.

 “Wouldn’t be much of a sugar daddy if it wasn't.” Billy turns his hand catching Steve’s fingers and holding them, finger tips smoothing up under the hem of Steve’s sleeve. “I’m sure you have some place in mind, all you have to do is name it.”

 Steve hums pretending to think about it but Billy is sure he already has a name on the tip of his tongue but Steve draws it out, eyes up toward the ceiling, mouth quirked before he finally flutters his lashes and says “Le Celiar.” 

 Keith chokes behind them staring wide eyed at Steve’s back and Billy just licks over his mouth, it is expensive but not the most expensive, it does however have some of the best food in the city, making it well with the price, Steve has good taste.

 “Kenneth are you nearly done?” Billy asks, tone impatient and intentionally using the wrong name, even as he keeps smiling at Steve who snickers at the sound of Keith being startled back to work. 

 Robin snorts so hard she spooks Shelby who stares at her in concern until Robin is muttering reassurances and offering her another biscuit, Billy is going to have to adjust her dinner accordingly, he is pretty sure she has had at least fifteen of those now. 

 “So what time are you picking me up, big guy?” Steve asks distracting Billy from glaring at Keith with the fingers of his free hand dancing up Billy’s chest, he wishes he did not have a Henley on under his flannel so Steve would be touching bare skin but there is time for that later. 

 “I’ll send a car to pick you up, say seven thirty pretty boy?” Billy catches Steve’s fingers just as the tips make it to his neck, pulling keeping it still as he leans down and drops another kiss against Steve’s skin, utterly delighted by the pleased flush painting Steve’s cheeks.

 “Oh fancy”

Part 3

[little-mad]

Downsides of Thievery Pt. 11

~ Previous Part ~ Next Part ~

Gavin wouldn’t really say he was a good judge of character, the amount of friends in low places he had was a testament to that. However, even he could tell that this new alteon that had appeared was bad news.

There was something about the way the guy held himself--it was cocky and arrogant, as if he was certain he was the most important person in the room. Not to mention the sleazy little smile he was wearing that seemed to promise trouble. But what Gavin hated most was the way the guy looked at him. It was hard to describe, but the only thing Gavin could think of to equate it to was how middle school bullies looked right before they were about to trip some poor kid in the hallway.

The green-eyed giant had been speaking in the same language that Gavin had heard a couple times throughout his time in the alteon dimension. Of course, he couldn’t understand any of it, which made him nervous for some reason.

“Not really much to look at, is he?” the new alteon remarked, now switching to English. “I know all humans are pretty pathetic, but I was expecting someone a bit tougher looking.”

Gavin scowled. This guy had intentionally alternated to speaking in a language Gavin could understand so that he would be able to hear the insult. Why was he being purposefully antagonistic? Yeah sure, Gavin was a criminal, but even Rael hadn’t been that big of a dick at first.

“Ashryn, I suppose you’re stationed here? Rael inquired. Gavin could tell he was trying to change the subject, to shift this “Ashryn” guy’s attention elsewhere.

“Why can’t he just tell this asshole to screw off?” Gavin thought to himself crankily. He tried to catch Rael’s eye but was unsuccessful. It was like he was very intentionally keeping his eyes up and forward.

“Hmm? Oh yes, that’s right,” Ashryn responded absentmindedly. He was apparently too preoccupied with staring at Gavin to give Rael his full attention.

What was it with these alteons and staring unabashedly? Just because Gavin was a comparatively tiny person from an alternate dimension didn’t mean they had the right to gawk at him like he was some sort of zoo animal. It was like all their manners flew out the window when it came to humans.

Ashryn stepped closer, a crafty smile still on his lips. “This is your first time dealing with a human up close, isn’t it?” he said to Rael while still not looking away from Gavin. “You don’t really realize how entirely inferior they are until you get close to them,” he continued. “Sure they look tiny and pathetic from afar, but up close you can really get a sense for how insignificant they are.”

Gavin really didn’t have a short temper, it was one of his few good traits actually. For the most part, he’d learned to just brush off insults and move on. He had given up on being well liked the moment he decided to become a thief. However, even Gavin’s temper had its limits, and he had just about reached his.

Springing to his feet, Gavin glared up at the massive elf-eared bastard standing in front of him. “What’s your problem?” he demanded, hands clenched in fists at his sides.

If this guy really wanted to insult Gavin and the rest of humanity so badly, why couldn’t he do it in his own native language? Oh yeah, because he was a complete ass. Ashryn didn’t just want to disparage humans, he wanted Gavin to know about it. For whatever reason, this alteon had decided he wanted to start a fight.

Next to Gavin, Rael had tensed up. The human hardly even noticed, he was too busy shooting daggers at Ashryn. Besides, Gavin was none too pleased with Rael at the moment anyways. He was basically just letting his comrade, or whatever they were to each other, run his mouth freely.

The grin on Ashryn’s face grew only wider at Gavin’s outburst. He took a step closer. “Rael, I think I’ve angered your little human,” he commented with a chuckle.

Gavin didn’t wait to see how Rael would’ve responded. Forget getting him to defend him. Who cared if Gavin was miniscule compared to Ashryn? He was going to stand up for himself. Someone needed to teach these giants some manners. Gavin was already in trouble, so it might as well be him.

“Okay you big, pointy-eared asshole,” he started with a bang. “Just because you’re bigger than humans doesn’t make you better than us--in fact with an attitude like yours, I’d argue you’re substantially worse than most humans I know...and I know some pretty shitty humans.” The words were flying out of his mouth almost of their own accord. It was like he’d opened a floodgate that he couldn’t close. “You’re clearly just a pompous dick who--”

“Enough!” The words echoed around him like thunder. At the same time there was a rush of air, a flash of movement, and then a thud that vibrated up through Gavin’s feet.

It took a moment for him to register the giant hand next to him, and a few more moments for him to realize it had just slammed down beside him. Gavin looked up, following the arm connected to the hand, expecting to see it attached to Ashryn. Instead, he was met with the rage filled face of Rael.

And then all of a sudden he was back in that clearing, pinned under a hand bigger than his entire body. The fear, the intimidation, the betrayal--it was all the same, probably even worse now actually. The worst part was that he didn’t understand, he didn’t understand why Rael was staring down at him with nothing but fury in his teal colored eyes.

Despite their turbulent relationship, Gavin had...well he had come to trust Rael. For god’s sake, he’d nearly considered the alteon to be something akin to a friend. So why...why had this happened? How had Gavin screwed this up?

“You will show some respect,” Rael growled down at him, and it was like Gavin was looking at a completely different person to the one he’d been talking to only a few minutes ago.

-

Why had he been put in this situation? Why did the guard outside the office have to be Ashryn? Why did Gavin have to snap like that? These questions swirled around inside Rael’s head as he looked down at the fearful human standing mere inches away from where he’d slammed his palm down on the bench.

“You had to do it,” a dark part of Rael’s mind told him. “If you hadn’t, Ashryn would never respect you, and he’d defame you to the entire Imperial Guard.” It was true--if Rael had failed to scold the human that was in his charge after he’d blatantly insulted an alteon soldier, he would be viewed as a failure among anyone who was anyone. Still, he hadn’t enjoyed doing it.

It wasn’t like last time, when Rael had trapped Gavin under his hand. There was no sense of satisfaction or pleasure derived from the action. All he could feel was a mess of anger and guilt.

He was furious that Ashryn had essentially manufactured the situation, but he was also angry with Gavin for quite literally forcing his hand. If the human had just kept his mouth shut, if he’d ignored Ashryn’s goading, then none of this would have happened. Why couldn’t Gavin have just made things easier?

“Well,” Ashryn spoke up with an appreciative tut. “I must say, you certainly know how to put a human in their place.”

Rael shifted his gaze towards the alteon. He couldn’t stand looking at Gavin anymore, seeing the fear and betrayal in those hazel eyes only deepened the heavy pit that was forming in his stomach.

“And you apparently know how to rile them up,” Rael muttered as he moved his hand away from Gavin and placed it back on his own lap.

Ashryn gave an amused chuckle. “Maybe so,” he answered with a satisfied grin on his face.

Despite having a primarily amicable relationship with one another, Rael had never much liked Ashryn. While they were about the same age and had gone through most of their training at the same time, Ashryn was regarded more highly within the Imperial Guard. Rael attributed this largely due to the fact that Ashryn’s family has had a long history of involvement with the Guard. Perhaps that also explained why the man was so pompous and smug all the time.

It was then that the door to the Emperor’s office opened for a second time. This time, it was a group of some of the top Imperial advisors exiting. They all eyed Gavin as they passed, however none of them said anything, only acknowledging the two soldiers with brief nods. Rael noticed that the last advisor out failed to close the door behind her, leaving him with a view inside the office.

There, sitting at his desk, was the Emperor of the entire realm of Iaela. He wore a calm smile on lips and waved a beckoning hand at Rael. “Bring in our human guest,” he called, his tone authoritative yet somehow still polite.

Ashryn was quick to assume his position beside the office door. He stood up straight, his arms behind his back like a perfect soldier. However, the part that the Emperor wouldn’t be able to see was his face--with that, Ashryn smirked over at Gavin. “Why does he look like he knows something that we don’t?” Unfortunately, there was no time for Rael to ruminate on his uncertainties. The Emperor was the very last person to be kept waiting.

Rael turned to Gavin. The human had gone pale and his body was so tense that it looked like the guy might bolt at any second. Rael was sure that the last thing Gavin wanted was to be picked up after what had just happened. However, there was no choice. There wasn’t even time for Rael to allow the human to walk onto his palm of his own accord.

As gently as possible, Rael carefully scooped the human up into his hands. Thankfully, Gavin didn’t put up any kind of fight; he gave a quiet gasp, but otherwise made no audible complaints. Once Rael was sure he wouldn’t drop the little man, he began to make his way into the Emperor’s office.

Immediately upon getting past the doorway, Rael felt a whoosh of air and heard a soft thud, indicating that the door had been shut behind them. This left him and Gavin entirely alone with the most powerful person in the realm.

This wouldn’t be Rael’s first time speaking with the Emperor, however it was certainly his first time alone, without any advisors, scribes, or guards around. Rael swallowed hard. He couldn’t mess this up--he had to prove himself to be a proper soldier worthy of being accepted into the ranks of the Imperial Guard. He wasn’t a peasant anymore, he was a proud, noble soldier.

“Rael, correct?” the Emperor inquired, the name sounded so foreign coming from his lips.

Rael nodded silently as he dipped into a low bow, which proved somewhat difficult while keeping his hands horizontal and steady for Gavin.

“Very well, Rael, could you place that human on my desk please?”

(Also, as a side note, I fixed up some continuity errors in chapters 6 and 9 if you feel like skimming through and seeing the minor adjustments)

[zevexsii]

i love your blog! i started playing idv recently and i'm in love with your writing! know that you have an avid supporter of your blog 🥰 and i would like to see more of Andrew’s little things because i need my boy’s stuff😔

awww! thank you nonnie!

i have some more ideas for andrew, i know this bit plays heavily on his behavior and what goes on in his head, but i think those are important things to start out with, i’m sorry if those parts are dense and/or hard to read.

misc. andrew kreiss headcanons || cut for length

andrew is... a lot to unpack (loving). he’s an asocial, anxious, coarse man, with an inferiority complex complemented by years of intense religious trauma, with a side order of mommy and (lack of?) daddy issues. 

most of his interactions with survivors and hunters alike are very tense and rocky, andrew’s emotions being an unpredictable swing between bending over backward to prove his usefulness or snapping when required to respond in an overly aggressive manner. 

considering the time range that the manor survivors are from, andrew would probably receive some disparaging comments and microaggressions due to his albinism- the manor is already an unsafe place. The expected response from its inhabitants is even more triggering for andrew’s poor self-esteem. 

any sort of friendship or half-honest relationship is incredibly rare, and will only happen by circumstance, or if you approach andrew in just the right way, even platonically. especially platonically. andrew is deeply immersed in the narrative of his own monstrosity, maintaining and constantly feeding into the belief that he is positively unlovable and any kindness shown to him is an attempt to use him or some subconscious pity response. pity is the last thing that andrew kreiss wants from people. 

not only are those infantilizing words blatantly insulting, but andrew’s inferiority complex is tipped off by nearly anything, so even kind statements can be perceived as disparaging jabs or send andrew into a guilt-ridden spiral, thinking that he’s tricked the other party into seeing him as something other than himself. 

now for a little break from the psychoanalyzing lmao

andrew is super illiterate. he was never given any formal education, though his mother did her best to teach him the basics of the alphabet before she passed away. since he worked closely with the church and the bible would’ve been one of the most readily available pieces of literature, it’s expected that he knows a plethora of bible verses, but they’re mainly memorized. 

poor guy has really bad blood circulation, so he’s cold all of the time- another reason for the cassock and patched-up coat he’s always wearing. this isn’t due to his albinism, mainly just because of how tall he is. i headcanon that he’s at least 188cm when his shoulders are hunched, which is pretty much always, and stands at a whopping 195cm when he straightens out. 

now, as for his interactions with the people he trusts the most (still, there’s barely any trust there), andrew is flaky at best. it’s not his fault; his primary defense mechanisms include obscene amounts of self-isolation and some behavior that could be low-key considered emotional manipulation; mainly unintentional guilt-tripping. in particularly overwhelming situations, andrew tends to mutter to himself about any assortment of topics, always in a low, frantic tone, whether he’s discussing his own unworthiness or cursing out someone else. 

contrasting heavily with the media he’s been exposed to, andrew curses quite a lot. he’s not super bad about it, but it’s part of his image that he has to maintain for his own perceived sense of safety. however, if you use the “lord’s” name in vain around him, you’re going to get at least an eye roll or a nasty look shot your way. andrew doesn’t go out of his way to fight or correct people he disagrees with, but he definitely finds ways to passive-aggressively make his opinions known. 

andrew quite enjoys gardening, specifically orchids and irises. back at Lutz Graveyard, he had his own little plot outside of the cemetery walls. 

i headcanon that andrew’s family is german, so, adding a german accent and the occasional foreign phrase, he’d be relatively difficult to understand if you’re not paying attention. not to mention andrew’s mumbl-y speech patterns.

andrew has a surprising sweet tooth! although, he does hold indulging himself in such activities to be a bit of a shameful activity. he favors raspberry pastries or any time of glazed item- cake doughnuts are his weakness. also a big fan of hard candies! he still has some vague memories of sharing small caramels with his mother as a young boy; hence, he keeps it as one of his nostalgic favorites. 

really likes art. he’s always been around artistic depictions of his faith, and, lacking the vocabulary to express himself otherwise, andrew picked up whatever he could and scribbled things out. small pieces of smudged paper (andrew is left-handed), ripped and torn around the edges, can be found around seldom-visited corners of the manor, scrawled over with graphite and ink.  

also tagging @rintares because of their andrew fixation /pos

[siancore]

On your response to that twitter post on Anthony Mackie, I think you're 100% right. Even if you're disappointed Bucky isn't given as much screen time, which in truth I personally am, it gives you no right to attack others. That's what's so toxic in fandom, viewing it as a zero-sum game where another person's joy has to equate to your resentment and anger. This how much better fandom would be if we were all supportive instead, more positive and productive instead of destructive. (1/2)

So congratulations to Anthony Mackie for having a big role during an important time in America. He is someone this fandom should be proud of, not the subject of misplaced anger. (2/2

Hi, Anon. You’ve made some really valuable points here and I agree wholeheartedly: Sam finally being in the spotlight does not negate Bucky’s importance as a character. That was not even what Anthony Mackie was saying. Yet, there are so many people in this fandom who try to shift the focus away from Sam Wilson and move it to their white favourite at every turn. They wait for any opportunity to swoop in and say, “What about Bucky?”

In this case, it’s, “What about Sebastian?”

And I ask, “What about him?”

He does his job just fine and doesn’t need fans saying shit to his colleague on his behalf. Do these fans not understand how strange and unsettling that is?

People really need to ask themselves why it rubbed them the wrong way that Anthony sat there and spoke about being the lead in his own show. Why it offended them so much that they went out of their way to tweet at him and make disparaging remarks about his personal character by saying he has an inflated ego. To me, it reeks of this insidious need for non-Black people to say to Black people, “Stay in your place”. To tell Anthony to pipe down, to minimise himself, and shrink away.

It’s gross, upsetting, and racist. Why shouldn’t he be proud of what he does and of his achievements? Why does he have to be reminded to humble himself? To be quiet? To share the spotlight? Why do fans think it’s alright to continually police everything this man says and does?

I wish that I could say that this was an isolated incident and a simple instance of misplaced anger, but it’s not. Anthony has been subjected to gross treatment from people in fandom before. From the comments section in clips of interviews and in articles, to outright disrespect at panels (that fucking ACE Comic Con Q&A took a year off my life I swear).

As for the disappointment over Bucky not getting much screen time: No one even knows if he’ll get less. It’s just like everything else with the character: Speculation. He will have a smaller arc, that’s one thing we can be sure of, but that’s an issue to take up with TPTB, not with a cast member who has nothing to do with writing the story. 

Anthony’s interviews shouldn’t be about Sebastian and Bucky. Sure, I want to know more about Bucky and hope that he gets an interesting arc in the series, but there’s a time and place for everything. 

This is the time for Sam Wilson to have the spotlight. This is the time to remind everyone, fans and studio executives alike, what most of us already know: That stories revolving around Black superheroes are needed and desired, and that a Black actor has the talent and charisma to carry a series.

And to echo what you said, Anon, congratulations to Anthony Mackie! Nothing but love and respect for My Captain America.

[aurorawest]

⭐ If you could, write about the part where Loki and Thor are desguised as women as they escape that army camp.

Oooh, sure!

Context: this is from chapter 14 of The Real Asgardians of the Galaxy. Loki is in a massive army encampment and manages to locate Thor by astral projecting. In order to pass through the camp to actually get to Thor, Loki takes female form and barges into Thor’s tent. Thor doesn’t recognize her at first so Loki transforms into a man again. Here’s their escape:

Looking at Loki like he’d just grown a second head, Thor said, “Great plan. I only see one problem with it. We’re here and there’s no way to get out of this camp without being seen. There are guards all around the perimeter, and—” But he stopped, noticing, finally, the way Loki was smiling at him. “Wait. You’re not going to—”

“Why not? It worked for me.”

“It worked for you because when you look like a woman, you are a woman!” Thor said. “I can’t—how am I supposed to pretend?”

“My magic is easily up to the task of glamoring away your hulking masculinity,” Loki said with a flick of his fingers. When Thor still looked doubtful, Loki added innocently, “You’ll be lovely, I’m sure. Did you have a preference on hair color?”

“I’m not concerned about being pretty,” Thor said. “I’m concerned about getting stopped and questioned.”

I knew I wanted Thor to object to this plan because, quite honestly, it’s funny for Thor to object to this plan. What I did not want to do was have Thor objecting to the plan because the idea of looking like a woman was distasteful to him. I also didn’t want him to come across as disparaging the fact that Loki can be both male and female. But Loki is almost kind of pushing to object to it on both of those levels, because Loki likes to push, and he wants people to admit to ugly things so 1) he can feel superior, and 2) he can feel like a victim.

[...] “We won’t be stopped,” Loki said. “And if we are, it will be because someone wants to buy our services. That’s easy enough to make them forget. No one here has any idea I can do magic. We stick to the main paths until we get to the airfield.”

“And then what?” Thor asked. “Have you seen the wall around it?”

“No,” Loki admitted.

“It’s a pretty serious wall.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “I’m a pretty serious sorcerer.”

Loki has already assumed Thor is going to dismiss his ability to get them out of the situation. He’s totally geared up for an argument here.

Thor looked at him. Loki stared back, wondering if Thor would discount the fact that magic could get them out of this. There was a long history between them of Thor dismissing Loki’s sorcery. It was a talent he couldn’t understand, didn’t share, and which he saw as suspect. At least, he always had in the past. 

Hm, but is this really true? This is Unreliable Narrator Loki at his finest. He’s telling us that Thor was always this way. Loki has been really hurt by what he perceives as Thor’s dismissal of his magic. If you asked Thor, though, he’d probably tell you the opposite story. The actual truth is somewhere in between. This is an example of the two of them not understanding how to communicate with each other.

Things had changed between them after Sakaar. Maybe this had, too.

Thor nodded. “Alright.”

Loki’s mouth opened to argue, but then he realized what Thor had said and he snapped it shut. A smile flashed across Thor’s face, as though he knew exactly what had just gone through Loki’s mind. 

All set to argue, and then nothing to argue with! Thor is definitely trying harder to be what Loki needs him to be, and you can see that here.

I trust you, brother, Thor had said to him before he’d manually calculated the jump that had brought their ship to Asgard. Maybe he’d meant it.

Callback to chapter 1 of the fic, where their navigation system is down and Loki manually calculates a jump on the back of a Big Mac wrapper.

With a nod in return, Loki lifted a hand and twisted his wrist. This was unnecessary, but he’d begun doing it as a courtesy to the people around him in Asgard who hadn’t liked his magic. 

I really love this particular head canon, where Loki’s magic doesn’t require any kind of gesture, spoken spell, etc. It’s a fun thing to play with, because it means he can be as showy as he wants to—but he doesn’t have to be.

[...] A green line of magic ran from Thor’s head to his feet, leaving a woman standing there in his place. Loki completed his own transformation and then said quietly, “Let’s go.”

I purposefully didn’t describe Thor here because Loki hardly thinks about Thor’s physical appearance at all. Loki’s descriptions of people’s physical descriptions tend to be very cursory. Hair color, skin color, height. He’s simply not all that interested.

So what that means is: if Loki is taking more interest in someone’s physical appearance, it might be because he’s interested in them.

The two of them peeked out of the tent. A few of Thor’s cohorts were still around the campfire. [...] Loki jerked her head and they slipped out, walked past the fire, and headed for the camp’s main thoroughfare.

“I should have said good-bye,” Thor said quietly.

Loki shrugged. “Send them a postcard.”

Definitely a little projection (?) here on Loki’s part. He too feels guilty about abandoning his unit, but it takes him ages to come to terms with it. He hasn’t even started to confront the fact that Kalmsh will likely get in trouble, maybe even serious trouble. A little sneak peek of what’s to come: this is something that Loki begins to really grapple with, that despite his penchant for casting himself in the victim role, there have been people in his life who have been willing to put themselves on the line for him, often in very serious ways. He’s way too self-absorbed at this point to recognize that.

She knew it was ridiculous, but it bothered her that Thor had given even this slightest of indications that he had formed attachments to these people. Of course he had. He was Thor. Even Loki felt some affection for her unit. It wasn’t as though Thor wanted to stay here fighting with them.

At least, she didn’t think he did.

A brief comment her on the way I write Loki in female form: I usually write these scenes using male pronouns to make sure I’m not writing female Loki any different than I would write male Loki. Then I go back through and switch them. 

But then again, Thor had preferred to stay imprisoned as a gladiator on Sakaar rather than joining Loki at the Grandmaster’s side. As much as she wished these wounds would heal, they were slow to. It had been almost seven years ago for Thor, 

Hey, I’m glad I got the timespan right here! In chapter 32, I had it wrong and didn’t catch it until right before I posted, haha.

but even if it hadn’t, Thor had always had a tendency to underestimate how his actions and words wounded Loki. He let things go so easily and Loki was the opposite. [...]

This is one of the things that’s at the heart of the House of Odin dynamic. I see both Thor and Odin being this way. They’re passionate people who speak before they think, so they’ll say these deeply hurtful, horrible things...which they don’t actually believe. And Thor and Odin can’t understand why Loki takes things so personally, why he can’t just let them go, while Loki can’t understand how they can be so cruel, and why they pretend to care about him when clearly they don’t, because one time they said this one thing and that obviously is more indicative of how they feel about him then the way they treat him on a daily basis. Full disclosure, I’m very much like Loki, lol. Neither one is right or good, but it’s the way they are, and they’re two very different ways of functioning.

This obviously wasn’t the time to bring it up, though.

“You do want to leave this place, don’t you?” Loki asked.

*rimshot*

Thor looked at her. Gods, even as a woman, that dumbfounded look was unmistakable. “You’re joking.”

“Well, you seem so broken up about the fact that you left without saying good-bye,” Loki said, sneering despite her best efforts.

There is always time for Loki to get bent out of shape for people not giving him the affection he wants. This is wildly inappropriate of Loki to do at this moment, but he just can’t stop himself. He’s so needy that he’ll jeopardize their escape to take his potshot at Thor. I remember when I wrote this, I nearly took it out, because I thought Loki was being such an ass—but Loki is an ass, and I really want to show that. I want to show how warped his perception of reality can be, and how he’ll make really bad decisions because of it.

Two Preccat men walked by them, leering, but Loki ignored them and so did Thor. The men looked disgruntled but let them pass. When they were gone, Thor turned to her and hissed, “Of course I want to leave here, don’t be stupid. Why are you bringing this up now? We’re supposed to be concentrating on getting out of here.”

Thor, the voice of...reason? A major part of Thor’s arc in this fic is actually that he’s kind of a doormat because he’s so grateful to have Loki back, and that obviously can’t hold forever. He’s kind of fighting with himself here, wanting to make Loki have a conversation that Loki’s definitely not ready to have, and which frankly Thor isn’t ready to either. Thor wants to be better for Loki because he knows he’s hurt him, but Loki also is pretty much as impossible as ever.

She scowled but didn’t say anything. Thor grabbed her arm and stopped her. Loki yanked her arm out of her brother’s hold. They glared at each other, but then a group of men came stumbling down the road towards them, obviously drunk. It snapped both of them out of it. “Let’s go,” Loki muttered.

Aaaand of course they don’t have a real conversation. Huh sure hope all this stonewalling and sweeping things under the rug doesn’t result in an explosive, hurtful, horrible argument later!

Thank you so much for asking!

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

[delicioussshame]

Happy New Year! Have a transition chapter.

If there is a thing Luo Binghe doesn’t understand, it’s whatever appeal Shang Qinghua holds.

There must be something of note to this insignificant man, for Shizun to consider him a friend. For all that Shen Qingqiu disparages Shang Qinghua all the time, Luo Binghe is too familiar with his husband’s temperament not to notice the affection hiding behind the harsh words. Their relationship is not only that of fellow peak lords.

Why did his husband, usually so discriminate, decide to favor this man out of all?

Even more incomprehensible, Shang Qinghua has managed to enthrall Mobei-Jun? Someone who, up to this point, had remained cold to all advances made to him? Luo Binghe admits he has sometimes enjoyed watching the women who had their heart set on him turn to the next best option, his second-in-command, only to have all their flirting hit the unbreakable wall of ice that was Mobei-Jun, all without causing a single crack. It had been one of the reasons why he’d felt it safe to hand him Shizun’s care. He couldn’t imagine Mobei-Jun would open up for the husband of his superior. Luo Binghe flattered himself that Mobei-Jun respected and trusted him too much to attempt such an affront.

Then again, they had struck an accord that Luo Binghe did not regret. Shen Qingqiu needed all the allies he could gather in the demon world, since his position as Luo Binghe’s sole spouse made him the target of more enemies than could be imagined. Knowing Shen Qingqiu has someone on his side when Luo Binghe left him behind did make it easier for him not to worry.

Maybe he could consider Shang Qinghua as one such ally? He was heavily involved in this realm too, after all, and managed it well enough not to have his own share of enemies, as far as Luo Binghe knows. He might be wrong about this. He doesn’t pay Shang Qinghua much attention.

At this point, he might as well ask his husband. Shizun taught all his students that knowledge is power. If Luo Binghe understood Shen Qingqiu’s relationship with Shang Qinghua, it might soothe some of his worries. Since he’s going to be an important part of Mobei-Jun’s life and thus, of his and Shen Qingqiu’s, a few questions should be acceptable. “Shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu lifts his eyes from the book he’s reading.

Luo Binghe feels a hint of guilt at interrupting Shen Qingqiu’s leisure time.

“Yes?”

“Why are you friends with Shang Qinghua?”

Shen Qingqiu sputters, his countenance disturbed by the unexpected question. “What? We’re not friends!”

Luo Binghe sighs. Why does Shizun bother to lie about such matters? He’s terrible at it. “Why do you spend time with him then? You both see each other quite often, not to mention Shizun arranged his relationship with Mobei-Jun. Surely you wouldn’t have extended them this courtesy if you didn’t believe they were worthy of one another? “

Shen Qingqiu has pulled his fan, and is using it to try to hide his discomfort with the subject at hand. It’s cute. “Their affairs are their own business! I just gave them a tiny little push! Why does Binghe care who I spend time with?”

What a ridiculous question. “I care about how Shizun spends every second of every day, of course. I’m just not quite certain why Shen Qingqiu chooses to do so with Shang Qinghua. This disciple’s insight pales when compared to his master’s; if he could illuminate his stupid student on the matter, this Luo Binghe would be forever grateful.”

As expected, Shen Qingqiu rises to pat Luo Binghe’s head, his discomfiture forgotten in his urge to console Luo Binghe. “Binghe isn’t stupid! Anyone would have difficulty noticing Shang Qinghua’s qualities. The few he has are well hidden.”

He leans into it shamelessly. Also like he didn’t say what he just said to get this exact reaction. “What are they?”

Shen Qingqiu falters for a moment, but Luo Binghe tilts his head in his hand and stares at him with wide eyes. “He’s… learned? Sometimes. He occasionally remembers things I don’t. We share… similar interests as scholars. He can be a good listener, if not a very good advice giver.”

That’s… surprising. “How did you find out you two had similar interests? You didn’t meet very often when we were still on Qing Jing Peak.”

“I… Shang Qinghua and I are from the same place. We did not know one another intimately, but because of it we share… values that some other cultivators don’t.”

Luo Binghe straightens. It is extremely rare from Shen Qingqiu to talk about anything regarding his past. When the topic comes up, he is usually very evasive. Luo Binghe doesn’t push him. He wants to know everything there is to know about his husband, but not if Shen Qingqiu doesn’t want to talk about it. What has passed long ago has no impact on their current life.

Or at least he thought this was how it was, but if the past is what ties Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua… “Where did you two come from?” A place that could create Shen Qingqiu, whose noble nature can be noticed by the blind, and Shang Qinghua, who does not possess even a fraction of a similar presence. “We could visit! I would love to see where Shizun grew up.” What a place it must be, for it to have given birth to his husband. He imagines it is just as beautiful and serene as him, with only the sounds of the wind travelling through the bamboo to disturb the peaceful silence.

Shen Qingqiu squirms, just a little. “We can’t.

“Why not?”

“Because… it’s unreachable.”

“Was it destroyed?” Wars, bandits, monsters, natural disasters. Anything can happen to a measly village.

“No, it’s not that, it’s… I didn’t plan on talking to Binghe about this today! Give me a minute!”

Luo Binghe flinches a bit at his husband’s unexpected outburst. He remains still and quiet after, giving Shen Qingqiu the time he requested.

Shen Qingqiu sighs. “Binghe has a right to know. He should have been told a long time ago, really. I just… was afraid he will not like what he will hear. Would he prefer not to be told about it?”

Luo Binghe shakes his head, cutting off his husband’s escape route. Whatever this is, Shen Qingqiu seems to be troubled by it. From what he just said, this secret has been weighing down on him. It would be better for him to free himself from it, so that they can work on the problem together.

“Just like the other you, the one who appeared, Shang Qinghua and I do not come from this world. We come from a completely different world, a different time, really. We died, then we came here. The big difference between us is that while Shang Qinghua was born in the body he is inhabiting, I arrived later. The real Shen Qingqiu, the one who earned this title… He did not survive the fever he suffered from when you were still a disciple.”

He’s not lying. Why would he?

Luo Binghe has no idea how to react to this revelation, so instead he’ll react to his husband’s tense frame, like he expects to be hit. “I believe you.”

Shen Qingqiu turns almost frightened eyes toward him. “You do?”

Luo Binghe nods. “My husband would not lie to me about this.”

…Are Shen Qingqiu’s eyes turning wet? Really?

He’s never seen Shen Qingqiu cry.

“Does Binghe still consider this master… no, this man, his husband? Despite the deception? Despite the many treacheries he had to accomplish to keep hiding? Because I would understand if Binghe didn’t. He married his husband under false pretenses, so if he wanted to reconsider, I would cooperate. I could return to the peak until he decides what he wants to do, or maybe visit the human realm, where no one cares who I am. Whatever Binghe wants, I will facilitate, I promis-”

Luo Binghe shuts his husband up by pressing a finger to his lips. “Shizun has said enough.”

Shen Qingqiu audibly stops talking.

“This is… a complicated matter. Something I will need to think about. Something I want to hear more, much more, about. But first: did Shizun decide to come here? Did he pick his body?” Did you kill your predecessor, husband of mine?

He removes the finger.

“No! No to both questions! I woke up in this body, and the System, that’s the… deity is the easiest comparison, responsible for mine and Shang Qinghua’s situations, enforced my silence about it.”

Luo Binghe nods. “I see. Then, since the man in front of me is the one I fell in love with, I see no reason why things would change. Shizun should remain here, and we can discuss it further. Later, maybe, when Shizun has calmed down a little.” He takes his husband in his arm and holds him there, until Shen Qingqiu has regained his inner equilibrium.

He holds him a little longer, just because he can.

______________

Something weird is going on.

Shang Qinghua is being tailed.

Well, not really. They’re not being subtle about it. From the moment he set foot inside Luo Binghe’s palace, two burly demons have been following him everywhere he goes.

He would have said something if they weren’t wearing Luo Binghe’s livery.

Hopefully they’ll get bored of watching Shang Qinghua pouring over the books of Luo Binghe’s library and leave to do something worth their time.

Except Big Scary Demon number 2 decides to steal the book he’s perusing. “You’re meeting Junshang now.”

“Huh, no? I would know.”

The demon gives his comment all the consideration he must think it deserves: none at all. “You’re coming with us or we’ll make you go. If Junshang has to wait, you’ll pay for wasting his time.” He grins the kind of grin Shang Qinghua bets dumb henchmen everywhere grin. “If you’d rather wait, I’ll happily watch Junshang punish you. It’ll be fun.”

Yeah, no. Shang Qinghua jumps to his feet. Better not make Luo Binghe wait. Nothing good will come out of pissing him off. “I’m coming, I’m coming! Don’t hurt me!”

He’s unceremoniously shoved in the direction of the door and escorted through the meanders of Luo Binghe’s palace.

Luo Binghe dismisses his flunkies with barely a word. Ha! Shang Qinghua knew they were nobodies.

In other matters, it is possible Shang Qinghua is in deep shit. Luo Binghe has never cared about his existence before. If he had him “accompanied” to his quarters, then something is wrong. “Lord Luo?”

Luo Binghe stares at him wordlessly.

Shang Qinghua has developed reflexes when it comes to scary demon kings glaring at him; he freezes and starts sweating helplessly. “Please tell me why I’m here? If I’m not needed, my king has left me duties I need to complete. There is no reason for me to keep you from your own very important duties.” Please don’t kill me.

Luo Binghe sighs. “You’re here because Shizun told me the truth about your common origin.”

Shang Qinghua freezes on the spot, only more than before. Cucumber-bro, really!? You went and told Luo Binghe about transmigration and didn’t even warn me about it? That was the least you could have done! “I see.”

“Shang Qinghua is not going to deny it? Or ask questions?”

If anything had happened to Shen Qingqiu, who stood to lose a lot more than Shang Qinghua after that revelation, he would have heard about it. As a spy, he needs to keep afloat of such major developments. He heard nothing, so things should be fine. “He did tell you about transmigration, right?”

Luo Binghe nods.

“Then you probably have heard everything relevant. I don’t have anything to add. Unless Lord Luo is the one who has questions?” He would not be surprised to hear Shen Qingqiu has been less than forthcoming.

He’s going to have to talk to Mobei-Jun about this, right? Can’t have him learn the truth from Luo Binghe. That would turn out badly.

“I used to wonder why my husband and yourself had a relationship at all, but I have been made aware that you are his sole compatriot. As much as it pains me to admit it, this puts you in a position where you can offer Shen Qingqiu solace I cannot. As such, you are important to my husband’s happiness, and since my husband’s happiness is my first priority, it is incumbent on me to do everything necessary to preserve it. You will now be the subject of increased security. I have also warned Mobei-Jun to do the same, though I have been told you were already under extensive protection.”

Huh. News to him. “Okay.” That’s going to make his life harder, isn’t it? Can’t spy if you have your own guards. “Thanks, but that’s really not necessary? I’m not anyone’s target. It’s mismanagement of resources.”

Luo Binghe frowns. “It is not. Shen Qingqiu would be displeased if something happened to you. Resources extended for my husband’s sake are not misused.”

Okay, so Shen Qingqiu waltzed right out of any issue regarding his real identity with his control on Luo Binghe intact. Of course he did.

Trying to get Luo Binghe not to do something he thinks will benefit Shen Qingqiu is an even bigger waste of time. “As Lord Luo wishes, then.” No point in opposing the protagonist.

“Shizun told me the place you two came from is very different from here, and that sometimes these differences can be… overwhelming to him. Do you have any idea of what he could mean?”

Shang Qinghua bites back his laughter. “Oh yes. There are so many potential triggers I couldn’t possibly count them.” The lack of any modern comfort can still annoy them, despite all the years they have been living here.

“Tell me if there is anything I could do to make his life easier. Just because you can apparently help doesn’t mean you should be the one only doing it.”

Luo Binghe would want to be the only one doing it. Big surprise here. He must have loved hearing all about how Shen Qingqiu was separated from everything Luo Binghe grew up with, but Shang Qinghua shared baggage with him.

Shang Qinghua thinks that not even Luo Binghe could bring Shen Qingqiu his beloved internet back, or his favorite books, and let’s not even get into the families they left behind when they died. Even the protagonist doesn’t have those skill sets.

What he does have though… There should be rushan somewhere? He thinks he included some at some point. It’s not quite right, but what does he know about food anyway. “While the food we used to eat is not completely different from what we can find here, some more recent offerings have been sorely missed. I don’t know anything about cooking, but you do, so are you up to a challenge?”

He can see Luo Binghe light up at the idea of helping his husband with something he can definitely handle. “Yes! Whatever Shizun used to eat, I’m sure I can reproduce.”

“Well, clear your calendar, because I can count what I know about cheese production on my fingers, and if we’re making pizza, it’s going to be necessary.”

[cosleia]

Prompt from @sam7sparks7​:

Poisoned a drink to kill someone else (Hux probably), got carried away in monologue and accidentally drank it himself.. Works best in full public view..

(kylux, a little nsfw at the end. this one totally got away from me. content notes: very mild, very brief suicide ideation; mildly graphic death by poison description) 

The Deaths of Allegiant General Pryde, Part 5: At Long Last

It’s been over two hours. General Armitage Hux knows because he’s been surreptitiously checking the chrono approximately every 30 seconds.

He doesn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be here in the first place. But far be it from him to disobey the not-an-order-but-it-may-as-well-be of Allegiant General Enric Pryde, who outranks Armitage due to the technicality of Armitage no longer having a flagship, even though Armitage once controlled the entire First Order fleet and served as a respected member of High Command.

None of that means anything anymore, he thinks sourly as he stands in what passes for a corner in one the Steadfast’s secondary TIE hangars and watches officers in dress uniforms mill about with glasses and small plates. The Finalizer is gone, the Supremacy is gone, Snoke is gone, and now High Command is gone too, replaced by Kylo Ren’s ‘Supreme Council’. That Ren put Armitage on that council is hardly cause for satisfaction or relief, given that Ren antagonizes Armitage at every possible moment, either by implying Armitage is thinking disloyal thoughts or refusing to entertain any of Armitage’s ideas. It’s like he’s keeping Armitage close just to rub in the fact that he won their years-long rivalry.

(Armitage can accept that Ren won, but he doesn’t have to like it.

(Unless, of course, Ren orders him to.)

This little party of Pryde’s is just like what Ren’s doing. It’s Pryde’s way of flaunting the fact that he now commands the First Order fleet, which now includes Emperor Palpatine’s Sith Fleet, hundreds of ships kept hidden until the perfect moment to upstage Armitage. Where was Pryde all those years the First Order was salvaging and improving the best parts of the Empire after the Galactic Civil War? Where was Pryde when Armitage ramped up the stormtrooper program, designed Starkiller Base, invented hyperspace tracking, and led the First Order to victory in dozens of secret missions before open war was finally declared? Where was Pryde during the Battle of Crait? If anything, Pryde is a coward sweeping in at the last minute to take all the credit for the work Armitage did while Pryde was off hiding somewhere.

Unfortunately, Pryde is actually getting that credit. Whether everyone truly believes the allegiant general is the savior of the First Order or they’re just trying to avoid Ren’s ire, Pryde is the one getting his way now. Pryde is the one Ren doesn’t countermand. Pryde has everything Armitage once had. Perhaps more.

Two hours is far too long to obsess over this—it would be better to bury it, try not to think about it at all—but it’s hard to think about anything else at a party for Pryde, hosted by Pryde, at which Pryde is circulating through the officers, sneering haughtily and noisily reminding everyone of his existence. This party is a farce.

The First Order itself has become a farce: following the whims of an unstable mystic, throwing in with another mystic who’s supposed to be dead, and not concerning itself with practicalities such as actually maintaining control of and running a galaxy. If Ren were gone, it might be salvageable. Of course, Armitage can’t even think such a thing in Ren’s presence, and as Ren is almost always present, Armitage hasn’t had much of a chance to plan. The best idea he’s come up with is to leak information to the Resistance and cause the First Order to lose faith in Ren, but that’s a terrible idea that would put not only the First Order but Armitage himself in danger.

The longer this blasted party drags on, though, the more treason is starting to appeal to him. This is the sort of flamboyant, meaningless affair Brendol favored: a chance to rub elbows with ‘important’ people and try to make himself seem important as well. It occurs to Armitage that Pryde was one of those people; he was in attendance at no small number of the events Brendol attended back when Armitage was a subadult.

Armitage sighs at the unpleasant memories this thought unearths, forcing his fingers straight. The last thing he needs is to be seen tearing up another pair of gloves. Of course, this restraint just means his frustration has nowhere to go. He considers breaking his rule of not eating or drinking anything he didn’t prepare himself and indulging in some party food and drink. It would give his enemies a chance to poison him, but honestly, why bother avoiding an assassination attempt? What is the point of existing like this, powerless, blocked at every turn by incompetence?

Armitage sighs again. He’s never given up in his life, and he won’t start now. He’s survived all this time despite his father, despite the former Imperials, despite Snoke, despite Ren. He’ll survive Pryde too. He will watch, and he will wait, and he will take any opportunity that is afforded him...and in the end, he will come out on top.

“General Hux,” Ren says at his ear.

Armitage freezes, forcing his ruminations down where hopefully Ren won’t find them. “Supreme Leader,” he replies, voice level. For whatever reason, Ren has always loved appearing out of nowhere directly behind him. Perhaps it’s to startle him, to make him feel like prey. But Armitage won’t be provoked.

“Not enjoying the party?” Ren asks. He’s close enough that Armitage feels Ren’s breath on the back of his earlobe.

He manages not to shiver. He doesn’t miss the mask, not at all, but it did serve as a barrier between them that isn’t there anymore, and sometimes that adds a different sort of edge to their interactions. “It’s not that, sir,” Armitage lies. “I just got caught up thinking about tomorrow’s duty roster.”

“Always working,” Ren says.

Armitage can’t tell if Ren’s being disparaging or just making an observation. He bites back a comment along the lines of at least someone is and turns to face the Supreme Leader. Ren is standing there in his usual outfit, all black, tunic and slacks and boots and gloves and cape; he hasn’t dressed for the occasion at all. Armitage hopes Pryde will take offense. “I enjoy working,” he tells Ren, which is true.

“It’s your life,” Ren replies.

Armitage isn’t sure if Ren has a point. He doesn’t reply.

“Is that your dress uniform?” Ren asks after a moment.

“Yes,” Armitage says, resisting the urge to glance down at himself, brush at the crisp white fabric, or needlessly straighten the gold piping and epaulets. He hasn’t eaten, drank, or even sat down since he left his chambers; his uniform should still be impeccable. Ren can play mind games all he likes, but Armitage won’t rise to the bait. He keeps his eyes locked on Ren’s, chin raised.

Ren’s eyes, as always, are too big, too deep, and a little watery. One of his lower eyelids twitches and he scowls a little, showing just a hint of white teeth between blood-red lips. Then, abruptly, he sweeps away without another word.

Armitage would be mystified if he wasn’t accustomed to Ren’s odd behavior. He’s still curious, even after years of this, but mostly he’s tired. Let Ren do as he pleases, so long as he isn’t choking Armitage or hurling him into a wall with the damnable Force.

(He hasn’t done that in some time. There have been moments. Threats. But the physical violence hasn’t happened again.

(Armitage isn’t fool enough to hope the change might be permanent.)

Armitage watches as Ren moves further into the hangar. Pryde, sycophant that he is, strides over to greet him. Ren doesn’t even stop walking; he waves a dismissive hand at Pryde and makes for one of the cargo lifts on the far wall. He’s apparently done with the party. Armitage wonders why he even bothered to come at all.

Pryde turns his pale blue eyes in Armitage’s direction and gives him a long look. As usual, Armitage can discern nothing from the man’s face, which seems permanently locked in a sneer. His gaze is unsettling, but Armitage returns it until Pryde finally turns away and resumes socializing.

~

Three hours in, Armitage is once again contemplating the bar. He’s not sure when it would be polite to leave, which makes staying at this party all the more torturous. After Ren left, the ghoulish Knights of Ren made an appearance, hovering around Armitage like a swarm of parvinoths before loping and looming their way around the hangar, intimidating everyone. Now that they’re gone, things are back to being intolerable, which means, ridiculously, that their visit actually offered Armitage some measure of relief. He supposes they did break up the monotony.

As Armitage gazes thoughtfully at the bar, Pryde comes his way for the first time that night. “We’re ending on a speech,” he says by way of greeting.

“We, sir?” Armitage asks. He doesn’t have anything prepared, but he won’t turn down an opportunity to speak to his people. There’s plenty he can generalize about, plenty he can play up. Perhaps he can even sneak in one or two of the code phrases that have been programmed into the stormtroopers, remind those here on guard duty who they serve.

He’s almost feeling cheerful when Pryde clarifies, “I’ll share the Order’s latest victories and hope for the future. The Supreme Council will flank me for the toast. United front and all. With me, General.”

Armitage keeps the disappointment from his voice as he offers a “Yes, sir.” Pryde stalks off, waving his swagger stick like a baton, and Armitage follows, wishing not for the first time that he’d been the one to bring swagger sticks to the modern First Order uniform code. Pryde is a mediocre irritant, but the swagger stick lends him a certain gravitas that might be part of why Ren was fooled into trusting him.

Pryde leads Armitage to the end of the hangar looking out at the stars. The rest of the Council has assembled there, and when Pryde arrives they form a single line between him and space. Armitage joins the line and faces the crowd as the lights in the hangar dim and a spotlight comes up on Pryde.

A server arrives with a tray of drinks; Pryde selects a glass, and then the server offers the tray to the line of officers. Armitage is the last to be served. He declines the drink and the server inexplicably takes it to Pryde, who tucks his swagger stick under his arm and accepts the second glass with his free hand.

“Fellow officers of the proud First Order,” Pryde says, his voice boastful as it echoes from the speakers. “I’m sure you’re grateful for this opportunity to celebrate our many successes. We’ve come so far since Starkiller and Crait and Batuu...”

Armitage has spent the past few months learning how not to scowl, but it takes all his strength not to react to Pryde calling him out in front of everyone. Pryde blames Armitage entirely for everything that has gone wrong for the First Order, and Armitage is worried that people are starting to believe him. The more Pryde reinforces his version of events, the more damage control Armitage must do later. He scans the room, trying to pick out individual officers and gauge their reactions, but it’s hard to get a good read on anyone in the dim light. And so he stands at parade rest and listens to Pryde’s speech and hates him.

Pryde is not accustomed to public speaking. He certainly doesn’t have nearly a decade of experience recording training and inspirational holos. He tends to meander, to switch abruptly to new topics, and to ineffectively support his statements. He also takes far too long to communicate a simple message. Armitage can’t check his chrono while everyone’s eyes are pointed in his direction, but he’s sure Pryde’s speech has gone on for 20 minutes now, with no end in sight. When Pryde suddenly cries, “To the Order!” and raises his glass, it’s so unexpected that Armitage startles as though waking from a fitful sleep.

“To the Order,” the assembled officers say in unison, and all those with drinks raise them to their lips.

Pryde drains the glass in his primary hand with gusto, shouts “To the Emperor!” and tips the second glass down his gullet too.

“To the Emperor,” the crowd says, but it sounds less fervent this time. Armitage’s breath catches. Could it be that there are others who are suspicious of all that’s happened since Pryde joined the fleet and the Emperor’s Sith Fleet was revealed? Is there hope for the Order after all?

Pryde turns toward the Supreme Council, face flushed and an actual smile on his lips. But when his gaze falls on Armitage, he seems to freeze in place, eyes widening. He stares at Armitage, slowly looks down to the empty glasses in his hands, then looks back at Armitage again. He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, and starts to say something. It sounds like ‘tree’, but he chokes on the word and drops both glasses to shatter on the floor.

Then he’s convulsing, gurgling, clutching his throat and falling to join the broken glasses on the durasteel tarmac.

“Call a medic!” Armitage snaps, even as his mind whirls in disbelief. His whole body feels light. He recognizes what’s happening. He even recognizes the poison. It’s very fast acting, and even if the medic were here right now there’s no way the allegiant general could be saved. His throat has already completely disintegrated, and his heart and lungs will follow in a matter of moments.

Armitage watches Pryde flop like a fish on the floor, froth and blood pouring from his mouth, eyes wide and already empty. It’s one of the most beautiful sights he’s ever seen.

~

The investigation concludes that the poison was in the second cup—the one meant for Armitage. Armitage never touched it, as attested by the waitstaff, kitchen staff, and everyone in attendance at the party. Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka testifies that Allegiant General Pryde always seemed to have it out for General Hux. The server testifies that General Pryde instructed them on how to serve the drinks so that a certain glass would make it to General Hux. The ship’s quartermaster testifies that Pryde himself ordered the components for the poison.

In all, it was a very, very sloppy assassination attempt...and yet it might have worked, had Armitage given in to his moodiness and accepted that drink.

“General Hux,” Ren says, stepping up close behind him on the bridge of the Steadfast.

“Supreme Leader,” Armitage acknowledges.

Ren says nothing more. Minutes pass. It’s become routine for Ren to loom like this; Armitage has found he doesn’t really mind, as it gives him a chance to demonstrate his superior level of competence to Ren. Armitage continues his work with Ren at his shoulder. For this mission to go smoothly, he must ensure the proper disposition of the fleet in near-Exegol space.

It’s not until Captain Peavey has confirmed he’s taken command of a single Xyston-class Star Destroyer and that Star Destroyer is navigating through the treacherous cloud of gas and stardust surrounding the planet that Ren speaks again. “Victory is within our grasp.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” Armitage agrees. With Pryde out of the way, getting the First Order back on track was far swifter and simpler than he expected. Ren changed his tune almost immediately. The fleet has been reorganized; the Finalizer and Supremacy and other ships damaged at Crait are in the process of being refurbished; and very shortly, the Order will have hundreds of planet-killers at its disposal.

“General Pryde would have had me subservient to the Emperor,” Ren says in a low voice. “To the creature who targeted me before I was even born, who tortured me, as he targeted and manipulated my grandfather, decades ago.”

Armitage looks at Ren in surprise. Everyone knows Darth Vader was the Emperor’s enforcer, but it hadn’t occurred to Armitage that it might not have been his choice. And while Armitage is aware of many personal details about Ren’s past, he has never heard Ren himself speak so frankly about it before.

“Darth Sidious doesn’t deserve the First Order,” Ren says fiercely. “We do.”

At that, Armitage turns fully to face him. “I do,” he dares to say. “I built the First Order.”

Ren huffs out a laugh. “You have a very high opinion of yourself,” he says, a comment along the lines of the jabs Ren has thrown his way throughout their entire working relationship. His next words, however, are new. “But it’s not unfounded.” Did Ren just—

“Sir,” Chief Petty Officer Unamo calls, breaking into Armitage’s thoughts. “The Revan is clear of the debris.”

Armitage spins to face front again. “Tell Captain Peavey to activate the navigational beacon. As soon as it’s transmitting, call our new ships to us,” he says.

“Aye.”

The same hyperspace-field enhanced processing power that made hyperspace tracking possible is now allowing Armitage to control the Sith Fleet. Compared to charting and comparing all possible routes of a ship that has just jumped to lightspeed, controlling the basic operation of a few hundred identical ships is child’s play. Armitage watches with rising anticipation as the first of the ships emerges from the red dust, and then more and more of them are rising up to join their true fleet.

Ren staggers suddenly, hands flying to his temples. “Now,” he grits out. “He’s in my head.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” Armitage says crisply. It occurred to him that this might happen, that the Emperor might directly attack Ren. It also occurred to him that he might simply let it happen, let circumstances sweep another obstacle out of his way. But Ren has been very useful these past several weeks. If not for, well, everything, they might have worked quite well together all these years, rather than clashing at every turn.

Besides, Ren has just given Armitage a compliment.

“Captain Peavey,” Armitage says, “fire on Exegol.”

Through the viewport, Armitage watches the Revan’s axial superlaser glow red. It takes far less time for these Sith Fleet cannons to charge than a Dreadnought’s autocannon, but Peavey had orders to charge it as soon as he was clear of the debris field just in case. It’s fully primed now, firing almost as soon as the order was given. Its pulsing red blast sears through the gas and dust and pounds into the planet below, shattering it.

In seconds, Exegol is completely obliterated.

Ren straightens, drops his hands to his sides. “It’s done,” he says. Then, incredibly, he adds, “Thank you.”

Armitage turns his head toward Ren. The man is flushed, eyes downcast, hands in fists. He looks strangely appealing like this; before he can help himself, Armitage imagines pushing him to his knees and burying fingers in his hair.

Ren looks up as though he has heard this thought, and maybe he has; Armitage suffers through a split second of terror before Ren smiles again and says, “I see.”

Armitage clears his throat. “Send the boarding parties,” he calls. Stormtroopers will infiltrate the Sith Fleet and eliminate any crew who refuse to swear loyalty to the First Order. At that point, the ‘Sith Fleet’ will be no more, and the newly bolstered First Order fleet will secure the Order’s hold over the galaxy.

Ren leans close to Armitage’s ear. “Come to my chambers when you’re finished,” he says softly. Without waiting for a response, he spins on his heel, cape swirling around him, and marches off the bridge. It’s overly dramatic, but Armitage can’t help but watch him go.

Armitage directs his forces for as long as is necessary, and then a bit longer after that. Then he gives the conn to Lieutenant Mitaka and makes his way to the officers’ quarters. It doesn’t occur to him until he has reached Ren’s door that he is not nervous about what might happen here. He does not expect to be taunted or physically assaulted or summarily executed. He’s looking forward to...whatever this is.

The hatch cycles open before his fingers reach the call box. Ren stands there, hands and feet bare, wearing just his trousers and a soft-looking long-sleeved shirt. It’s a good look for him, Armitage thinks. Ren smiles and ushers him in.

Armitage is barely through the hatch when Ren moves close, eyes darting over Armitage’s face, lips slightly parted. He’s close enough to touch. Armitage puts a hand on Ren’s chest, but not to push him away. He wants to touch Ren. He can feel Ren’s heartbeat.

“General,” Ren says, and he’s breathless. Armitage’s own breath catches. “Armitage. I want to kiss you.”

The idea is so shocking and yet so obvious Armitage is flummoxed for a beat. How this has never occurred to him before is astonishing. “Yes,” he stutters out finally.

“It’s not an order,” Ren says, and now there’s heat in his voice.

“No?” Armitage asks, and if Ren doesn’t kiss him soon he’s going to shatter to pieces like Exegol. “Well, this is an order.” He takes Ren’s face in his hands, leans in until their noses touch. “Kiss me.”

Ren does, surging forward with such force that he backs Armitage into the wall. Armitage’s fingers slide back and curl into Ren’s hair as his mouth is utterly devoured by the Supreme Leader of the First Order.

“Kylo,” Ren pulls back just briefly to pant out. “Call me Kylo,” and then he’s biting Armitage’s lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, exploring it with his tongue, and all Armitage can do is groan.

~

They’ve stumbled to the bedroom and Armitage is slipping his hands up under Kylo’s shirt when a wild thought occurs to him and he lets out a laugh of surprise.

Kylo detaches his lips from Armitage’s neck. Slowly, warily, without showing his face, he says “What?” He’s big and powerful and the ruler of the galaxy, and yet somehow, right now, he sounds vulnerable.

Armitage’s chest is strangely tight. “I always thought Pryde’s existence was pointless,” he explains, stroking fingers through Kylo’s hair. “But if it hadn’t been for Pryde, I wouldn’t—we wouldn’t—” Armitage somehow can’t bear giving voice to the thought. An hour ago, he wouldn’t have believed this possible. He doesn’t want to make it impossible again.

Kylo finally pulls back to look at him. They’re sitting next to each other on the edge of the bed, but Kylo slides off onto the floor, nudges himself between Armitage’s knees, and wraps his arms tightly around Armitage’s waist. “He wanted to kill you,” Kylo says quietly.

“He wasn’t successful,” Armitage reminds him.

"It was too close.” Kylo buries his face against Armitage’s stomach.

Kylo was...worried? Despite the fact that Kylo asked him here, asked to kiss him, has been kissing and touching him, Armitage can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Wanting is one thing. This... “Kylo,” he says.

“No one will ever hurt you again,” Kylo says, the words muffled by Armitage’s undershirt.

“Kylo,” Armitage says again, feeling dizzy. He doesn’t want to ruin it, but he’s seemingly incapable of leaving this alone. “What changed? When did you stop hating me?”

Kylo looks up at him, eyes glossy with tears beneath dark lashes. He sucks at his lips, cutting his eyes away briefly before refocusing on Armitage. “I never hated you,” he says. “I tried, but...I couldn’t. Snoke said—he told me—he said it was wrong. To—to want you.”

Armitage sucks in a breath. Through that lens, their past interactions make a hell of a lot more sense. “It’s not wrong,” he says. The words come easily. They feel right. “Come here.” He scoots backward on the bed and Kylo crawls after him and Armitage lies back and pulls him close, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and letting the other trail down his hip.

As Armitage’s touch reaches Kylo’s thigh Kylo shudders, bucks suddenly against Armitage’s leg. Armitage can feel the hard line of his cock through their clothes.

“Do you want...?” Armitage asks, sliding his hand down between Kylo’s legs. Kylo nods fervently, biting his lip, and undoes his trousers. Armitage wraps his hand around the head of Kylo’s cock and Kylo lets out a long moan. “That’s it,” Armitage says as he squeezes up the shaft and slides the column of his fist back down. “That’s it. Good—”

“Ah—!” Kylo cries out, tensing and shaking, and hot come spills over Armitage’s hand. Kylo is beautiful like this, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide open, cheeks flushed. Kylo is always beautiful, Armitage thinks. “You think about me a lot,” Kylo says hazily, pushing his face into Armitage’s shoulder as he pants for breath. “That made it harder.”

The fact that Kylo has been denying himself for years, the fact that it has been a struggle, should be gratifying...but right now, Armitage mostly feels a sudden, indescribable rage. “I’m glad they’re dead,” he says, meaning Snoke and Pryde and Palpatine. “I wish I could kill them again.”

Kylo hums in agreement and throws an arm around Armitage’s waist. He looks like he might fall asleep at any moment.

Armitage buries his clean hand in Kylo’s hair and wipes the come off the other as best he can on Kylo’s bedsheets. His cock is half-hard, but he doesn’t feel the need to do anything about it. For the moment, all he’s thinking about is the exhausted giant sprawled against his side. “Get some rest,” he whispers, and Kylo shifts and snuggles closer.

~

When morning comes, Kylo is still curled against him, and he’s still holding Kylo, and it wasn’t a dream.

Armitage does think about Kylo a lot, he has to admit. He’s always thought about Kylo. He just thought it meant Kylo was his biggest obstacle, requiring the most attention and planning. Not—

“Hi,” Kylo says sleepily, raising himself up just enough that he can see Armitage’s face.

“Hello,” Armitage replies, smiling without even thinking about it.

“I want to suck your dick,” Kylo says.

Armitage lets out a snicker, even as his cock twitches in his trousers. “Needy thing, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Kylo says cheekily. “No one’s here to tell me what I should want anymore. Can I?”

“Of course, darling,” Armitage says, with more fondness than he thinks he’s ever heard in his own voice. (Has his voice ever been fond?)

Kylo shivers and grins and lets out a little giggle, and Armitage had no idea the Supreme Leader could be adorable, but he apparently can.

He also, Armitage shortly discovers, has an extremely talented mouth.

Something is happening here. Armitage has never felt this way before, never even considered that he might feel this way, and yet relating to Kylo now feels so natural, as though they’ve been like this forever. It’s hard to put a finger on what’s changed, when so much is different, but one thing is obvious: Kylo is happy, and Armitage likes it.

He’s not sure he’s ever seen Kylo happy before.

Kylo pulls off Armitage’s cock with a delightfully obscene slurping noise. He licks his lips and says seriously, “I’m not sure I ever have been. Have you?” Before Armitage can even begin to process that staggeringly matter-of-fact pronouncement, Kylo descends again, and it’s not long before Armitage is crying out, hips twitching up as he comes down Kylo’s throat.

“Come here,” Armitage says as his mind slowly surfaces from the fog of orgasm, because not holding Kylo right now is intolerable. Kylo obeys, crawling back up the bed, and Armitage wraps both arms and one leg tightly around him. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” he says thoughtlessly, because that’s how he feels right now, and only after the words are out does it occur to him that they might have been the wrong thing to say. So many people have tried to own Kylo, his whole life: his parents, the Jedi, Snoke, Palpatine, the galaxy as a whole. But this is different. Surely Kylo knows that. Never mind that Armitage barely understands what’s going on at this point. Kylo has to know— “And I’m yours,” he attempts to clarify. “Aren’t I?”

Kylo is quiet for a moment, and then he lets out a loud sniffle. Turning his face into Armitage’s neck, he says wetly, “Yes.”

Last night, Kylo vowed that no one would ever hurt Armitage again. Now, Armitage makes Kylo that same promise. “It’s the two of us against the galaxy,” he says. “And the galaxy’s going to lose.” Kylo laughs a little, raising his eyes to Armitage’s face again, and Armitage leans forward and kisses him.

“You’re sure about that,” Kylo says against Armitage’s lips, and it isn’t a question.

“Nothing can stop us,” Armitage says. “Not now.”

He doesn’t have the Force. He doesn’t have the power of foresight. But he knows it’s true, knows it just as he has always known he was destined for greatness. He knows that now that he and Kylo have found each other, found the real each other, any who try to stand against them will fall.

And, as it turns out, he’s right.

~

The Deaths of Allegiant General Pryde series on AO3

[myheartismadeofstars]

MDZS OCs

Under the cut for length!

1. 

Name: Bao Duan

Gender: Male

Age (aproximate?): 18 

Sect: Jin (Non cultivator...yet?)

Personality: Vain, rude, hypersexual, claims to hate people but it’s the Trauma Babey~ he actually views his beauty and body as his worth, he’s very intelligent dispite arriving to Koi Tower as completely illiterate. He has no concept of shame lmao boy will sass anyone for any reason, and it gets him into trouble. Must Be Taught Subtlty. Cynical, observant, fun loving but lazy.

Bio: Born into a brothel in Lanling to an unknown father (it’s not JGS don’t worry) he was raised by his loving but low class mother. She defended him as best as she could...but he was forced to work since he was twelve. He accidentally befriended Jin Guangyao after responding to disparaging remarks about his own parentage with “Shut the hell up. Everyone already knows you’re only jealous my mother got paid~” within Jin Guangyao’s earshot when JGY thought the comments were directed at himself. JGY proceeded to puchase his contract from his Madam in order to have him serve him in Koi Tower (he also ends up acting as a spy, gathering information about all in Koi Tower)

Family: Mother (Bao Chuntao)

Likes: pretty things, learning to read and write, archery (picks up in Koi Tower), Jin Guangyao, Nie Huaisang, Qin Su, Pretty men, being useful, teasing people, wine, anyone else who shows him respect, his “goal” of being “Pretty, rich and well-fucked”

Dislikes: violence, sex (though he claims otherwise), the very concept of aging, feeling vulnerable,  badmouthing his mother (he’s fair game), bitter foods, waking up early. JGY refusing to let him make extremely tasteless jokes, often regarding JGS

2.

Name: Yin Chen (Courtesy: Xiaozi. Prefers given name)

Gender: female (transgender)

Age (aproximate?): Mid 20′s

Sect: Lan (cultivator, but no relation to the Lan Clan)

Personality: Maternal instincts ON POINT, confused, warm and kind, but damn if she isn’t protective as fuck. Loyal, playful, not afraid to “lawyer” the rules a bit, 

Bio: Yin Chen works as a caretaker of the children born and raised in Cloud Recesses. She thought maybe cultivation would help her become more comfortable in her own skin, and that the rules of cloud recesses would make it easy to know how to be...while she struggled with the rules for a couple of years, she eventually found them comforting, especially the rules about no gossip and “be easy on yourself”. She found herself at peace with the children where the rules are somewhat more relaxed for the first few years of life (after all, you can’t expect a baby to obey the rules of no loud noise) and was soon discovered to be very good at teaching them the rules in an easy and natural way. 

Family: Father, mother, younger brother

Likes: children, Lan Wangji’s bunnies, caligraphy, being able to take a short nap when the children do, men who are even slightly gender nonconforming, hero novels, springtime, poetry, 

Dislikes: being called “gege” or “shushu”, her courtesy name, mirrors, the nine PM bedtime (no matter how long she has lived at Cloud Recesses she feels like she doesn’t have enough time to do everything she needs to do), being single (though she would literally never admit it to anyone)

3.

Name: Wen Zhao (Courtesy name: Huoqing)

Gender: Male

Age (aproximate?): 24

Sect: Wen (formerly), Nie (Currently)

Personality: can appear cold and ruthless or polite and cordial. Never willing to forgive acts of injustice towards innocents and will bravely defend against foes much stronger than he is. Holds a bit of a pragmatic streak, but will never compromise on his morals. Hates lying even if it is to save lives, but lives come before his comfort

Bio: Born to a distant family branch of the Wen Clan he grew up in the Nightless City to a family of alchemists making medicines and miracle drugs, during the Sunshot Campaign he stole (but left money for) commoner’s clothes so he wouldn’t be killed by the Nie Sect who were on their way to The Nightless City. He was nearly killed by overzealous Nie soldiers but was rescued by one Nie Xi, Courtesy name: Zhule. Afraid of what might happen to him if his surname was known...he lied. He claimed his name was Li Zhao and belonged to a small cultivation clan oppressed by the Wens. He genuinely did see Wen Ruohan as a tyrant who would slaughter all the sects to keep his position, so he didn’t have to lie much. Nie Zhule eventually had him brought back to the Unclean Realm where he still lives.

Family: Father (Deceased), Mother (Deceased), at least two siblings

Likes: justice, Nie Zhule, Meng Mei (Wen Xu’s deceased wife, who was a friend before her death. No relation to Meng Yao), Wei Wuxian, defending people,

Dislikes: injustice, lying, Wen Ruohan and his sons, honestly anyone who abuses authority over others The Yiling Patriarch (he knows this is WWX but he draws the difference between the man who masacred hundreds of innocents and the man who risked everything to save a handful, he also finds demonic cultivation distasteful), being mistaken for a woman (he’s slight and very pretty)

4.

Name: Nie Xi (Courtesy: Zhule)

Gender: Male

Age (aproximate?): 23

Sect: Nie

Personality: Cheerful and laid back, but passionate and stubborn. Kinda on the stupid side but he’s capable of great emotional intelligence. Will never listen to an order to harm innocents. Basically a huge overgrown puppy, can be a tad naive and trusting.

Bio: One of only a couple of Paternal cousins of the main family, Nie Zhule grew up in the Unclean Realm. He took to their aggressive cultivation style quite well even though he himself is not somone who is easily angered. He greatly idolizes his cousin Nie Mingjue as well as his older brother. Even though his brother didn’t want him to, he insisted on fighting in the Sunshot Campaign because he hated how the Wen Sect treated others, and like his cousin, wanted to avenge his uncle. When he met “Li” Zhao he fell in love at first sight. Which didn’t surprise his brother at all. It took him a while to build up “Li” Zhao’s trust, but he felt it was worth it.

Family: The Nie Clan (cousins Deceased uncle and two Deceased Aunts), Father, Older brother, Mother (deceased)

Likes: FOOD (he’s a big eater lol), swordplay, hunting (including nighthunting), adventure, the cold (this guy is the asshole who goes swimming in winter and somehow doesn’t freeze his ass off), “Li” Zhao.

Dislikes: people giving up hope, hurting innocents, Wei Wuxian (until he actually MEETS him at least, that reputation though...), lying

[whatmack]

You got any Soft Fluffy like Big Hoodie Fluffy head canons for the Foxes? a bitch is in need 😔 only if you have some, no pressure

i love….thinking of soft things for my foxes bless u anon

 -dan helps matt with his hair in the morning 

 -sometimes renee recommends books to kevin. kevin always reads them even if he doesn’t like them. but usually he likes them

 -matt’s dad was making disparaging comments about andrew being able to afford a maserati and every day afterward for a week matt posted a photo of himself before morning practice in the parking lot with captions like “omw to practice! haha right after I admire my teammate andrew minyard’s maserati” or “beautiful morning! that maserati in the background belongs to my teammate andrew minyard btw :D" 

 -yes allison is the bitchiest bitch but drunk allison at an Exy banquet in the bathroom? she’ll give everyone compliments from head to toe tells em they’re looking gorg that was a nice save in the last game and their man doesn’t deserve them 

 -wymack keeps extra XXL fox jackets in his office so if he needs to calm someone down/talk them back from where their head has gone he has something warm to wrap them in 

 -on his first birthday after the events of the series nicky gets a handmade birthday card signed by everyone on the team. nobody will cop to who organized it and nicky cries and hugs everyone who will let him 

 -one time during a game aaron dives the wrong way and renee gets an Exy ball to the faceplate super hard. aaron punches the striker who hit it and later buys renee her favorite candy as an apology 

 -matt will stop and crouch down to offer his hand to every single stray cat he sees. he wants to do the same to every single ANIMAL he sees but when it’s not practical he settles for beaming and waving from afar 

 -when neil becomes captain the foxes want to pour gatorade over his head but they make sure to ask first unless that’s a trigger. it’s not and they do and it’s one of the few times the foxes hear neil actually laugh for real

 -when there’s been a long string of injuries or when abby looks particularly stressed each one of the foxes does a little thing to show they care. they range from dan bullying her into taking a nap in the office to andrew leaving a box of bright cartoony bandaids outside her door 

 -renee bakes the team cookies occasionally. they always have too much baking soda. nobody says a thing and they all go back for seconds, every single time-one time dan had a really really bad cold but came to practice anyway and the next day when she came in she found five different takeout cups of tea waiting at her spot on the bench-they have kevin and neil’s names engraved on one of the bricks of the Court (each) after they graduate. it’s small and hidden but it’s to acknowledge how much the Foxhole Court means to them

[aion-rsa]

Warrior Season 2 Episode 3 Review: Not How We Do Business

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This Warrior review contains spoilers.

Warrior Season 2 Episode 3

“Not How We Do Business” sums up the latest episode of Warrior in two ways. First, it’s a line that Zing (Dustin Nguyen) lays on O’Hara (Kieran Biew) when he finally breaks away from being a debt collector for the Fung Hai. “Not how we do business” also works on a meta level, this episode only has one Kung Fu fight. That’s weak for a Bruce Lee inspired show. There are two other fight scenes, but they’re scrappy brawls the likes of which can be found in any action drama.

Bruce Lee fans want Kung Fu, and not just any Kung Fu. As part of the Little Dragon’s legacy, it must be great Kung Fu. The lone Kung Fu scene in this episode is good and serves to introduce a pivotal new character, but that’s not enough. It’s not how we do business. 

This episode begins with a missed opportunity where Ah Sahm (Anthony Koji) is in the Barbary Coast Fight Pit, facing off against another challenger. That would be great, but the fight is already over. The opening shot focuses upon his burly challenger, but he has already been knocked out and is just standing stunned, then there’s a shot of Ah Sahm, and then the challenger falls.

Seriously? No Kung Fu? Starting in the Fight Pit is fine dramatically but shortchanging the audience out of a fight is not the way to go for this show. It’s a big ripe piece of low hanging fruit left to rot. Bruce Lee fans crave gratuitous Kung Fu. Whenever Warrior goes to the Fight Pit, there had better be a fight.

After that, Ah Sahm’s fight manager Vega (Maria-Elena Laas) teases him with the promise of a bigger purse in some other international arena, a place where Warrior will hopefully go at some point this season, but not in this episode. Chao (Hoon Lee) pulls Ah Sahm aside and implies that he knows about the molasses plot that he and Young Jun (Jason Tobin) are cooking up, and that he’s concerned over Ah Sahm’s rivalry with Mai Ling (Dianne Doan). Chao comments “I don’t see any version of that ending well” which comes as no surprise to anyone. If this all ended well, there’d be no fight scenes. 

Enter Hong – the New Guy in the Hop Wei

The centerpiece of the episode is the introduction of a new character, Hong (Chen Tang). Chen Tang just portrayed Yao in the new Mulan. In the original Disney animated film, Yao was Mulan’s hard ass comrade, and in contrast, he’s the shortest character (unless you count Mushu and Cri-Kee). The live action Mulan changed a lot – Yao was still the hard ass, but now he’s 6 feet tall and a less significant role. Nevertheless, Chen is a great addition to Warrior, exuding a southern charm because he was raised in Memphis and has a natural southern accent in real life, but he covers that up for Warrior. 

Read more

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Warrior Season 2 Episode 1 Review: Learn to Endure, or Hire a Bodyguard

By Gene Ching

Hong arrives ‘fresh off the boat’ with a batch of new recruits, hatchet men ordered from China by Father Jun (Perry Yung). Their appearance makes Young Jun nervous that Father Jun might be on to his non-Chinese molasses scheme. He’s also suspicious of Hong’s attempts to weasel his way in with them. Nonetheless, Young Jun and Ah Sahm agree to take Hong to a brothel. There Ah Sahm discovers Hong is gay but sympathetically keeps that secret. 

After that, the threesome stumble across some Fung Hai gangsters in the streets and Hong, either eager to impress or just hungry to kick some ass, takes them all out by himself. It’s a good introduction and reveals his expertise with whip chain. A whip chain is a traditional Chinese weapon, one that can be easily concealed as a trusty everyday carry for a Tong man. Chen Tong delivers a decent first fight scene with it. As weapons go, the whip chain requires more skill to wield than a nunchaku. Hong deploys both the whip chain’s striking and entangling methods proficiently, although the scene is in a dark alley and the shadows can conceal a multitude of sins. Chen Tong lists skills in Stage Combat, Karate, Kung Fu and Tai Chi on his resume and claims he did some preparation for the role of Hong studying Chinese whip chain and the Japanese equivalent manriki-gusari.

One of the best things about Warrior is the relationship between Ah Sahm and Young Jun. They have an earnest chemistry as two gangsters being gangsters, delivering beat downs, slinging molasses, and chasing sticky. This camaraderie is commonplace for buddy films and TV partners but it’s exceedingly rare and delightfully refreshing to see this for two Asian men in a Western production. Both Ah Sahm and Young Jun have a lot to prove and their connection is palpable. Hong brings a new lighter tone as the third wheel to their partnership. They already seem to be bonding as a threesome which is promising for the rest of the season. 

In the Room Where It Happens

Mai Ling (Dianne Doan) and Li Yong (Joe Taslim) pay a visit to the Fung Hai lair so she can scold Zing (Dustin Nguyen). Walking into Zing’s room is a gutsy move for Mai Ling, but with Li Yong at her side, she’s fearless. Zing agrees to Mai Ling’s terms, but not before she shares a ritual drink of mare’s milk with him. Mare’s milk, or Kumis, is a unique fermented drink because few alcoholic beverages are dairy derived. It’s usually not that strong, nor is it the disgusting chunky chowder depicted in Warrior but the Mongols are stereotyped as barbarians, just as they were in Mulan, so it’s depicted as revolting. Mongolians are poorly represented in film and television. Project their media depictions upon any other race and the generally disparaging tone is evident. 

On the way out, a Fung Hai thug gets up in Li Yong’s face and gets throat punched for his trouble. Don’t mess witjj Li Yong. Knowing Li Yong could destroy his crew, Zing calls off his man saying “Be thankful for your pain. It means you’re still alive.”

Much to Li Yong’s dismay, Mai Ling echoes this line towards the end of the episode, making him wonder if his boss is headed down the wrong path like Zing. While everyone in Warrior has their dark side, Zing has emerged as the villain with no redeemable qualities. Taslim brings a guarded nobility to Li Yong as Warrior’s most badass fighter; he’s loyal to Mai Ling, his lover and boss, but not blindly so. This, along with Taslim’s martial expertise, makes Li Yong one of the more intriguing characters. Mai Ling, like most of the rest of the cast, is another character with a lot to prove.

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Warrior Episode 2 Review: There’s No China in the Bible

By Stephen Harber

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Later, Zing, being the barbarous Mongol villain, threatens Chao (Hoon Lee) over delivering weapons. Chao, always the manipulator, discusses Zing with Mai Ling. Then later, Chao meets with Li Yong alone. Over bowls of noodles, Chao proposes a way to avoid war, teasing some coming intrigue to take Zing down. Everyone is aligning against Zing and the anticipation of this inevitable showdown is promising.

Sophie (Celine Buckens) sneaks into Leary’s (Dean Jagger) back room at the Banshee and finds his map of factories that use coolies. While she’s smart enough to realize that Leary is behind the factory firebombing, she somehow overlooks that Mercer Steel has got to be among those circled on that map too. Clearly her sister’s company is on the Irish workers hit list because they were beating up the coolies headed to Mercer until Penny (Joanna Vanderham) hired the Hop Wei for protection against them. Sophie and Leary finally hook up and Leary unwittingly echoes Chao saying, “This isn’t going to end well.” By now, the audience is well aware it’s not going to end well and has their collective fingers crossed that it will end in a massive Kung Fu fight at the very least. 

As they have a post-coital stroll, Sophie suggests that Leary get into politics with a nod to Hamilton by suggesting he should “be in the room where it happens.” Leary calls Sophie out when she says she “knows.” She’s an entitled upper-class woman and hasn’t seen the tragedy that Leary has. He tells Sophie of some of the horrors he witnesses, of friends and family starving, and starts to pull away from her until she draws him back. It gives Leary more context.

Given the era, Leary likely escaped the Great Irish Famine (1945-1849). Over a quarter million Irish emigrated to the New World and Leary would be part of that generation. The Irish are struggling too. During that period, Irish immigrants made up most of San Francisco’s working class and about one-third of the city’s population. This is another way Warrior sheds light upon a dark period of history.

Police Beatdowns

The other two fight scenes come from the cops. The first is short. Lee (Tom Weston-Jones) returns to Nora’s (Gaosi Raditholo) tavern where he got rolled last episode to exact revenge. He goes full copper, night-sticking and shooting up the joint until he gets his cash back. With Lee, Weston-Jones is echoing his role as Kevin “Corky” Corcoran, in his previous TV show Copper. Corky was an Irish detective in a period drama set in the late 18th century, the same era as Warrior. This is not so much of a bar fight as it is a cop taking out a few unarmed barflies. 

When a debtor’s wife flashes a gratuitous boob at O’Hara, offering him sex to pay her husband’s bills to the Fung Hai, it’s the last straw and he finally quits the Fung Hai. Even though O’Hara has repaid his debt, Zing exacts revenge by sending Tong men to invade his home and threaten his family. This happens right after dinner where Lee had been their guest. Lee comes to the rescue, revolver blazing, and a scrappy bit of violence ensues where O’Hara’s son and wife must defend themselves too. It’s a brutal sanguineous scene, leaving everyone dead or splattered with blood, ending this episode in a bloody mess. 

Warrior Season 2 can be seen exclusively on CINEMAX.

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[arcadianambivalence]

World on Fire, Ep 6

Summer 1940

The bittersweet sense of hope from last episode sours in the first couple of minutes of this episode.  The Germans have arrived in Paris, an “open city” on the condition that it is not bombed.  Webster and Albert watch the arrival with dread.

In England, the characters are still relatively safe.  Harry returns home, to Robina’s relief, with Demba as a guest, to Robina’s confusion.  Demba needs a place to stay before traveling to Scotland to train with Free French, Harry explains.  Free France was the government-in-exile led by Charles DeGaulle (and is not to be confused with Vichy France, the puppet state led by Petain).

“Well, this is going to give me something to talk about at bridge club.”

Demba, Robina, and Harry switch back and forth between conversing in English and French.  Demba compliments Robina on her French, throwing her off balance.  Harry is still suspicious of what his mother isn’t saying.  Adding to the awkward group, Lois arrives to give Jan a gift from Douglas.  By now, Robina seems more familiar with the Bennet family than her own son, though that doesn’t stop her from taking verbal jabs at everyone.

Robina’s arc is about how to unlearn prejudice, but she has a long way to go. She jokes that Demba’s training in Scotland would be miserable like Dunkirk. She calls Jan a “backwoods” boy, even though she obviously cares for him. She still believes that there can be negotiation with Hitler, that the lack of a blitzkrieg on Paris means the Germans will be kind to Britain, that there is a way to settle the conflict.  When World on Fire reaches the Blitz, there will be no more room for her illusions.

(Read More)

The final episodes of this season subtly set up a Blitz plotline with Lois and Vernon, too.  Vernon is still watching Lois perform while giving her the biggest heart eyes.  More familiar faces are in the audience, too, like Geoff and Eddie, who walks on stage and gives Connie a big damn reunion kiss.  

The Canadian pilot, Randy, is interested in Connie, but when he sees that Connie’s heart is taken, he strikes up a friendly conversation with Lois.  He tells her that he has a brother in France (hmm..anyone we know?), and he likes to think that he can protect him as a pilot in the RAF.  Lois begins to tear up and asks Randy if he could watch over her brother Tom, who has officially been declared missing.  

Vernon walks in at the tail end of the conversation and thinks that Randy must be the man who knocked up Lois and abandoned her.  In contrast to Harry’s reaction in episode three, Vernon refrains from decking Randy, but his misguided attempt to fight for Lois’s honor is rather funny, especially to Randy. 

 Vernon later apologizes to Lois for his behavior and confesses that his appearance at her recent show is no coincidence.  He has been following her tour because, despite how little they know each other or how ridiculous it seems, he is “absolutely besotted” with her and wanted to see her again before he goes back in the air.  Before she can respond, Vernon turns and leaves.  Lois watches him with a mix of confusion and tenderness.

The possibility of love and security may come as a relief to Douglas when he finally finds out about Vernon, especially with Tom’s fate left uncertain.  Douglas has shut himself off from the rest of the world, like the show hints he did after his wife’s death.  Also like she must have done years and years ago, Lois carries on with hope for the best and preparation for the worst.  Meanwhile, Douglas refuses to give up hope for the son who, it turns out, is still alive.  

Discovered on the beach and taken to a battlefield hospital, then Paris, Tom is under Webster’s care.  But with the Germans rounding up prisoners of war, Tom’s life is not completely safe yet.  Webster has a plan: he will officially declare Tom dead while the Resistance whisks Tom across the border and into Spain.

Albert hopes he can follow the same escape route, especially when a German officer, Sieber, deliberately warns him of the Nazi policies against jazz players (and by extension, people of African descent).  That night, Albert and Webster have their first argument over their next steps.  Still optimistic, Webster thinks that Albert will be safe as a French citizen, but if things get bad, they should wait until confirmation that Tom made it across the border before sending Albert after him.

Things get bad very quickly.  Germans enter the hospital and search for wounded soldiers (even their corpses) while Tom is still there.  Henriette quickly leads Sieber to the morgue and shows him a body that (luckily) is charred beyond recognition.  In a rush of excitement over her luck, she grabs Webster and kisses him.  His expression of supreme embarrassment quickly puts an end to the mood.  (I guess Henriette did not realize where that confetti was from in episode one).

That’s not the last we see of Sieber, unfortunately.  Webster returns home from work to find his apartment overrun with Germans, who kick him out at gunpoint. His sense of safety shattered, Webster runs to the club to look for Albert, but Germans are everywhere, and Albert is gone.  Webster tracks down Sieber in a desperate hope he will show mercy.  Sieber points Webster to the camp where Albert is being held while subtly revealing that he, too, is gay.

Webster finds Albert, who is terrified that if any attention is drawn to him, things will be much worse for him, but Webster will not give him up.  He tries to use his privilege as an American with the commander of the camp, but to no avail. We’re left questioning if Webster’s intervention has singled out Albert for deportation to somewhere worse.

This episode really brings out the similarities between Webster and Nancy, and the risk that their actions as citizens of a neutral country can do as much harm as good.  In Nancy’s case, her attempts to smuggle out her report on the euthanasia program only raised the threat against the Rosslers, but it’s Uwe’s murder of Frau Pessler that breaks the floodgates open.  The Gestapo arrive at Uwe’s work to question him about the woman’s disappearance and at the summer home where Claudia and Hilde are staying.  

Uwe and Claudia are arrested and interrogated, first about Frau Pessler, but then their allegiance to the Reich.  The interrogator humiliates and intimidates Claudia with all of the reports neighbors and strangers have made about her past disparaging comments about the regime, ranging to minor complaints to major accusations.  Uwe is placed in a holding cell so he can hear his wife begin to break.  

Once Claudia is sufficiently confused and demoralized, the interrogator corners her into denying the validity of the Nazi doctors that diagnosed Hilde with epilepsy (thus condemning the family) or admitting that her daughter has epilepsy (also condemning the family).  She breaks.

Weighed down by the realization of what she’s done and the separation that’s sure to follow, Claudia returns to Hilde and tells her to pack.  As Hilde gets her things, Claudia burns the letters from the institute—the first and the second, just as Nancy said there would be.  

When Uwe arrives at the apartment, he finds his wife and child dead of an overdose.  Drawn by his wails, Nancy enters the apartment just as a neighbor arrives.  Uwe rounds on the neighbor, but Nancy cautions “Think of your son.” Uwe grows silent, and the two stare at each other as they realize they have effectively switched roles.

Earlier, Nancy had said she might have contacts who can help the Rossler family.  Now is the time to put those contacts to the test.  Nancy couldn’t smuggle her research out of Germany, but what about a person?  

Uwe and Tom aren’t the only characters preparing to sneak across the border. Harry receives a letter from the War Office for a meeting with one Major Taylor, who wants him to work as a spy.  

(Hey, it’s a payoff for Stan’s spy suspicions!)  

Harry meets Taylor at the urinal.  As far as character meetings go, talking at the urinal is funny—talking in different languages to test someone out as secret agent material while still at the urinal is hilarious.  And with fifty minutes of misery and the occasional tenderness to an episode, it is a much-needed moment of relief.

Given his knowledge of languages and (in Taylor’s interpretation) ability for deceit, Harry could collect information about the situation in Poland and transmit it back to Britain.  The plan is for Harry to parachute into Poland and meet up with members of the Polish Resistance outside of Warsaw.   

This episode in particular shows how Kasia is still on Harry’s mind.  One moving scene cuts between Kasia staring at the photograph of her family and Harry and crying and Harry gazing at the same picture.  He has also started to make more of an effort with Jan, like comforting the boy when he has nightmares about his parents.

All season, Harry has been looking for a way to actively help the Polish people, especially the Tomaszeski family.  But from his station in Northern France to his fruitless efforts with the diplomatic office, he has been left running in circles and feeling utterly useless. 

In the first episode, he wanted to get Kasia out first and come back for her family, and now it seems he has the opportunity to save her the other way around.

The road to Kasia is paved with dangers: the drop could kill him, he could be captured, he could fail to make contact with the Polish Resistance or even make it into Warsaw.  And then Kasia has changed so much.  What if once again, she refuses to leave because of her responsibility to her country and her people?  But he has changed, too.

He agrees to the mission.

Notes

Webster and Albert’s first appearance gets a few callbacks this episode, like Vernon and Lois at the airfield and Webster and Albert again at the club.  One chilling mirror occurs between Sieber and Albert when the German enters the club and stares inscrutably at the jazz band.

Geoff and Stan make a brief apperance during Lois’s performance.  They may have made it out of Dunkirk, but given that this episode takes place in 1940, they won’t be away from combat for long, unfortunately.

When Claudia burns the letters from the institute, the conflagration in the trashcan is reminiscent of the burning photographs in the opening credits.

I wonder if Harry’s codename will be Blackbird.