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oswald-privileges · 3 years

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ALL RIGHT BUT YOU ASKED FOR IT

Power of Three as a series is just. full of weaknesses, most of which come down to poor continuity and structure. I'm not gonna try and fix ALL of those, bc that'd be laborious as hell, but I will pick out things that I feel are the most egregious as case studies.

What Po3 does have, tho, is an absolutely shining strength in the concept of its three main characters. After twelve books of Blandly Heroic Protagonist Syndrome, Jayfeather is an absolute godsend. He's angry! He's rude! He's unhappy! He's not nice. I Love Him And He's My Son. Lionblaze has his invincible pride (hah) and emergent bloodlust, and Hollyleaf has her moral absolutism and certainty. These are good starting points for characters. Sadly, the lack of continuity undermines what could have been three really good character arcs.

So! I present to you:

HOW TO MAKE "WARRIORS: THE POWER OF THREE" NOT COMPLETELY SUCK ACCORDING TO MY PERSONAL TASTE; A NON-EXHAUSTIVE, NON-CONSECUTIVE LIST BY ME

ONE

- Have there be a persistant, overarching series threat. Sol is a character with amazing villain potential who does literally nothing except hang around, and do exactly 2 Bad Things completely off-screen. This Is Not Good.

- Instead, have him be present from the second book onwards- initially introduced as a friendly but enigmatic outsider who is slowly revealed across the series to be a complete black hole of a personality, a social parasite quietly rearranging whatever community he's a part of to just-so-happen to benefit him as much as humanly possible. His "preach individualism not starclan" methods are not so much values as one strategy out of many. (to those who know me- yes i have a type. no i will not apologise.)

- Maybe his ultimate goal is to dissolve and centralise the clans or something so that he can live out his life as a political puppetmaster in all the cat-luxury he likes. idk it's hard to imagine overall stakes for this rewrite BECAUSE THE ORIGINAL DOESN'T HAVE ANY

TWO

- For gods sake you don't have a series based on the premise of "the main characters develop super powers" and then only have the second power confirmed by the end of the fourth book. I understand the first book mostly focusing on Jayfeather- his powers are obvious from the start, he's got the strongest personality of the three, he gets access to most of the prophecy plot stuff because of them. But you NEED to have the other two show an interest in something concrete happening to them beyond that, and you need to at least hint towards the other two having something unique to them even if nobody clocks it yet.

- Have Jayfeather tell his siblings about the prophecy by the end of book two at the latest. The amount of time he spends noodling around not sharing it with them is inexcusable. It's not that it's out of character for him to hang onto a secret for a bit, it's just that there's no point and it slows everything down. It would be equally in character for him to go to his siblings and be like "look, i'm SPECIAL. well you as well but ALSO ME". Boy starts off as desperate for recognition, what can I say

THREE

- Have Jayfeather discover that StarClan don't withhold signs or information on purpose for the sake of "building courage and faith" or whatever nonsense. Seeing and communicating the future is metaphysically very difficult, so interpreting signs and messages is a genuine skill, or even an art. The cats of StarClan, however, really are just ghosts, much more similar to living cats than the currently living believe. This is the impotus for Jayfeather's discarding of his reverence for StarClan, which remains consistent throughout the series.

- Have Hollyleaf and Jayfeather both still change their cat careers in the first book, but put place more attention on the fact that they basically switched jobs. Have a scene where they end up yelling at each other, because can't the other see how lucky they have it? The tension breaks when they realise they've both lost something important to them- Jayfeather his chance to prove he's as capable as a sighted cat, and Hollyleaf her path to helping her clan in the way she thinks is best. They commiserate together, and reluctantly promise to do the best they can with their lots, so they don't waste the path the other wishes they'd taken. This closeness is eroded over the series as they disagree more and more on the subject of StarClan and its role in their moral choices and obligations.

FOUR

- Speaking of Hollyleaf! I nearly threw my phone across the room when the first Omen of the Stars book claimed that Hollyleaf "worked so hard to discover her power to help her clan". Where, Ms Erins??? I would have LOVED to have seen that!! Hollyleaf expresses absolutely no concern over the details of what power she has/will develop, and only has a couple of scenes even touching on her ambitions to help her clan. She has some vague ideas about becoming leader and like one scene where she gets to do some leadery things, but that never gets followed up on. What does happen is that the whole "warrior code" thing becomes more and more a part of her personality (for no clear reason) until she snaps.

- Hollyleaf going off the deep end is something I wanted so badly to get into and be moved by, because I could see where it comes from! Her moral certainty is fascinating, especially since it's based in something as abstract as the warrior code- which, when you think about it, isn't really... anything. There's no concrete set of rules that make it up, no traditional wording or cat philosophers, not even any fables. It's a handful of agreed-upon, common sense rules- don't cross boundaries, don't take prey that isn't yours, respect your ancestors, and don't murder. That's it!

- So, combining the above points, I think Hollyleaf not being one of the Three should stay, but both the audience and the characters are given good reason to believe she is. By around the third volume, make it so that Hollyleaf has found that her power is to get cats to "Do The Right Thing"- i.e. what she wants them to do. She sneaks off often to see Sol, who teachs her how to use this power. Her siblings are concerned about this new power, having already gotten a glimpse at what Sol can do, but she's confident that she can only use this power for good. Volume-specific plot happens, Sol manipulates her into causing him to win, she is shocked and horrified, and vows to stick ridgedly to what she knows is right i.e. The Warrior Code

- However, the more fervently she tries to stick to this abstract idea, the less it gives her results, the more her power seems to be failing. Believing that StarClan is taking her power away from her, she becomes caught up in a faith-guilt spiral that puts her in the position to snap at the end of the series. By that point it's clear to her siblings that Hollyleaf has no power- she was just very, very good at persuading people to do what she wanted.

FIVE

- Lionblaze is a girl now because I Said So. This Cat Is Trans And There's Nothing You Can Do About It.

- Her relationship with Heathertail stays the same- childhood sweethearts who are torn apart as they begin to understand the nature of the societal divides that exist between them.

- This can be used to contextualise the whole "half clan/outsider blood" thing as a cultural contradiction. In reality, inter- and outer- clan relationships aren't at all rare. They can't be, otherwise the whole society would be inbred out of existence in like five generations. But if at least one society of humans can spend a good 200 years pretending Sex Is Bad And Sinful Actually then cats can have persistant cat-racism in the face of all logic. Heathertail clocks this contradiction, Lionblaze doesn't.

- Her relationship-to-power arc doesn't need changing all that much either, other than starting much sooner and being more consistent. At first, she's completely overjoyed by her power, since unlike her siblings, it lines up so well with her ambition- become the finest warrior any of the clans have to offer. As the berserker rage aspect becomes more prevelent, she becomes more and more disturbed by the fact that she isn't disturbed by what she can do, and that she doesn't want the escalation of her power to stop.

- Tigerstar still does his thing, but Brambleclaw knows about it. He recognises the signs from when his father used to visit him, and tries to train Lionblaze in his own way. She ends up caught between wanting to be a good warrior, and testing the limits of her power.

SIX

- Jayfeather can stay basically the same because he's my perfect little angy boy and nothing needs to change. His arcs can be strengthened by having a more robust relationship with Yellowfang where they try to out-bitch each other, and coming to terms with his internalised ablism. Maybe he has a chat with Mothwing about faith a couple of times. Him furiously lashing out at being offered help transitions into an acceptence and understanding of his abilities more naturally. He never stops being A Grumpy Old Man.

- All fucking past-lives unexplained time travel goes in the BIN. Doesn't fucking happen. You can have that lore dump sprinkled across the books, or come from going deep into the tunnels and having a surreal meeting. Make it properly eldritch-level scary, shake Jayfeather's confidence in the idea of them being just a bunch of ghosts.

SEVEN

- Have the way Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight present very clearly as parents to the Three be explicitly, textually unusual. One of the things I liked so much about the first series was an almost total lack of emphasis on who was mated with who, and who was related or not. It felt very real to how feral cat colonies form, where raising kittens is a communal job. This gets completely dropped the moment series 2 starts and now the cats have monogamy.

- This emphasis on the family unit and fostering close relationships between parents and kittens is deliberate on the part of both Leafpool and Squirrelflight. Their aim is to cover for Leafpool so she doesn't lose her role as medicine cat- something she already gave up Crowfeather for before she was pregnant.

- In that little bit of backstory, have a robust reason for both Leafpool and Squirrelflight to leave the camp while Leafpool is pregnant and giving birth, possibly one that ties into the present day story in some minor way. I don't know how, it would just make that element of the story a lot more ground than "we left, the kits were born, then we came back and everyone was cool with it"

- When it comes to the "I am Not your mother" reveal, Jayfeather and Lionblaze are confused and hurt that they were lied to, but come to the reasonable conclusion that well, since they were raised mostly by Squirrelflight, saw Leafpool often, and are loved by both, they don't hate her. Lionblaze has something of a crisis over being half-clan, possibly initiating an attempted reunion with Heathertail. Jayfeather is more concerned with how other cats will think it makes him lesser, something he's still sensitive too.

- Hollyleaf, meanwhile, completely fucking snaps at the way her mother Violated Part Of The Code. It's a completely irrational reaction, but expected because she's been growing more and more reliant on The Code for the whole series, and less and less stable in her attempts to aid her clan and train to be its new leader.

- Squirrelflight is the one to murder Ashfur. This is easy to work out while reading- she's literally the only one of the four with a motive who isn't a perspective character. The mystery is less around finding out who did it, and more about why she did it (it's very ambiguous as to whether it was an accident or not). The main tension comes from who finds out when.

- Lionblaze is shocked, awed by how far she'd go to protect the three of them, and reassures her she did the right thing (as a way to salve her own uncertainty over her own longing for violence). Jayfeather makes it all about himself because he's Jayfeather- upset that he didn't know immediately, instead of, you know, figuring it out in a few hours because he can basically read minds. They try their best to hide it from Hollyleaf, who is already rattling around the final volume as a full-on antagonist, but are unsuccessful. This almost costs them something incredibly important- possibly Squirrelflight's life.

EIGHT

- the whole plot with the Tribe Of Rushing Water is a MASSIVE can of worms that could be removed from the series without issue. As it is:

- Characterize the Tribe as uncertain of how to fight other cats, because yes, they haven't had to do this before. DON'T characterise them as pathetic, doing whatever their leader says without thinking, and with ancestors who have Given Up

- Have some of the Tribe be really good at the violence. Worryingly good. Have others be sickened by what they're being asked to do.

- Have some of the clan cats reflect on what they've done. Hollyleaf would be all for introducing this society to jesus The Code, but even she might be horrified at being thanked by a tribe cat who can't wait to get out there and win themselves glory, only to be killed a few hours later

- The Tribe begin a new tradition of marking the walls in the mud they use as camoflage in order to commemorate their battles, and memorialise the fallen. One of the characters reflects on the fact that in a generation or two, the Tribe will feel like it's always been this way. How many of their own traditions- those that feel almost like natural law- started out the same way?

- Have Sol as the leader of the invaders, or maybe having insinuated himself into the tribe as a "mediator" and doing his charismatic cult leader thing.

NINE

- Cinderheart isn't a reincarnation of Cinderpelt. She's just named after her bc Cinderpelt saved her mother from a badger. this is because I think the reincanation thing is stupid and I can't think of a way to make it good.

TEN

- No more using tails as hand gestures like covering people's mouths. Never. None of it. It's expunged from existence.

Disclaimer: I haven't read Omen of the Stars yet, so I can't account for anything that might happen in that series that's grounded in Po3. I'm like... two thirds of the way through the first volume. I'm Not Impressed.

#Warrior Cats #warriors #The Power of Three #Jayfeather #Hollyleaf #Lionblaze #long post

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fridayfirefly · 4 years

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The Art of Debate

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Written for Timari January Day 29 - Debate Competition

@timari-month-event

Marinette had always had a gift with words. The ability to use her words to convince people to do what she wanted came naturally to her. At the age of five, Marinette convinced her kindergarten teacher to take their whole class to get ice cream. At the age of thirteen, she joined her first debate team and was a crucial part of the winning debate that got her team third place in Regionals. Two years later, she was the captain of her high school debate team, and they were competing all over France. Two years after that, in her last year of high school, Marinette's team qualified for an international debate competition that took them all around the world. The championship debate, between Francois Dupont Academy and Gotham Academy, was to be held in Gotham.

Marinette had faith in her team that they would win. The team of ten debaters practiced every afternoon for months, led by Marinette and her co-captain Lila.

Lila had been an unexpected addition to the team, given that Marinette and Lila had gotten off to a bad start when Lila first joined her class. However, after witnessing Lila so thoroughly convince the class of a lie so outrageous that Marinette could hardly believe that anyone with half a brain would see right through it, Marinette realized that Lila's skills could be put to good use. Marinette offered the Italian girl a deal. If Lila joined the debate team and promised to never use her lies to cause direct harm, Marinette would no longer call her out of her harmless lies. Lila agreed, and quickly became one of their key debaters.

Over time, Lila started lying less and less, as she realized that she didn't need to lie to make friends. Two years after the first joined the debate team, Lila stayed after practice and offered Marinette a deal. Lila would never lie again if Marinette made her co-captain of the debate team. In full faith, Marinette agreed. She had seen the change in Lila and knew that there was a chance that they might even become friends.

"How's practice going?" asked Marinette as Lila joined her at the front of the classroom. Marinette was going over the paperwork for their upcoming championship debate while Lila was running practice. Their team members were hard at work: Aurore and Mireille were debating net neutrality, Kagami and Ivan were debating the right to own firearms, Sabrina and Nathanial were debating the morality of abortion, and Max and Marc were debating the ethics of medically assisted suicide.

"It's going well. I have everyone partnered up, working on either the affirmative or negative position. Then they'll split into either the research group or the public speaking group, based on what skills they need to improve on."

Marinette smiled. "We're going to win this, I just know it."

Lila gave her a devious smile back. "As if I would let us lose."

---

In the hallway of the Gotham Grand Hotel, outside of the ballroom where the debate tournament was being held, Marinette fed US dollar bills into a vending machine. "Diet coke is... A7." Marinette pressed the button and waited as the machine refused to give her the drink. "Are you serious?" sighed Marinette.

"Need some help?" asked a dark-haired boy in a sweater with an iron-on patch reading Gotham Preparatory Academy Debate Team. He was cute, in a nerdy kind of way. Nerdy wasn't Marinette's usual type, but she could see the appeal with the boy in front of her.

"I gave the machine my money but it won't give me my drink, and my debate - our debate, actually - starts in just a few minutes."

"I'll let you in on a secret. You aren't supposed to shake it, but if you do it anyway..." the boy shook the machine, and Marinette's diet coke tumbled down into the tray below.

Marinette smiled. "Thank you! I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng, by the way. I'm co-captain of the team from Françoise Dupont."

"Timothy Drake, but you can call me Tim. I look forward to seeing you debate."

"Thanks, you too." Marinette watched as Tim turned and left, jogging to catch up with one of his teammates, a blonde girl who glanced over towards Marinette with a knowing smile on her face. Any other day, Marinette would have spent a little more of her attention on Tim, but today she knew she had to focus. Marinette had a debate to win.

---

"We live in a world facing an incredible number of challenges. However, there is one challenge that often sticks out among the rest as the most pressing issue, with much debate over its severity. Is climate change the greatest threat facing humanity today? Collège Françoise Dupont, you will be arguing the affirmative. Gotham Preparatory Academy, you will be arguing the negative.

Kagami and Max went up first, two excellent debaters, and while the students from Gotham were certainly good, they were no match for Kagami and Max. Kagami had the self-assured confidence to never show any doubt about the validity of her claims and Max had the raw knowledge to win any debate through the sheer amount of factual evidence he could bring to the table. The first round went to Kagami and Max, giving Françoise Dupont a strong start.

As Marinette high-fived Kagami and Max, she caught a glimpse of Tim out of the corner of her eye. He was staring at her with a look on his face that Marinette couldn't quite decipher - confusion or frustration or some mix of the two. Either way, Marinette didn't particularly enjoy being stared at. She met his eyes and stared right back, narrowing her eyes. Tim looked away, a slight flush to his face. Marinette was left feeling more confused than anything else. Why was Tim staring at her, and why with such an odd look on his face?

Three more rounds of debate followed, with wins alternating between Collège Françoise Dupont and Gotham Academy. The schools were tied two and two by the final round, but Marinette couldn't quite stay focused on the debate. The only thing she could focus on was Tim. Watching him in her periphery, Marinette could see him having a heated exchange with one of the girls on his team, the blonde that Marinette had noticed earlier.

"Focus, Marinette!" hissed Lila. "This is the final round, and you and I are up."

The announcer stepped up to the microphone to announce the topic of debate. "This topic has been in the news a lot these past few weeks, with the introduction of the Superhero Registration Act. Though most news sources consider it unlikely that the bill will pass, it raises the question which you will be debating today: Should the government have a larger role in regulating the actions of vigilante superheroes? Gotham Preparatory Academy, you will be arguing the affirmative. Françoise Dupont, you will be arguing the negative."

Marinette shared a look with Lila, who was already smirking. "No way we lose this one," Lila mouthed.

Marinette nodded, narrowing her eyes at the opposing team. Even if Tim was cute, there was no way she was losing.

The affirmative started the debate, meaning that the team from Gotham spoke first. Stephanie Brown, Tim's blonde teammate from earlier, began with a lecture about a lack of accountability associated with vigilante justice. It was a flimsy argument if you knew where to poke holes in it. Luckily, that was what Marinette was best at.

"It's been universally accepted that superheroes are a necessary part of our current culture. The one job a superhero has is to save as many lives as possible. How are they supposed to complete that one job if there is constant government restriction and intervention? We've all watched for years as superheroes operated outside of the government - this is because superheroes don't need to be regulated. In addition, I would like to ask: in what way do superheroes need to be more accountable? Our world has seen time and time again that the superhero community keeps itself in check. When one superhero starts to stray from the path of good, they are held accountable by their fellow superheroes."

The debate continued, back and forth between Marinette, Tim, Lila, and Stephanie. With bated breath, Marinette waited for the results of the round to be announced.

"The final round goes to... Collège Françoise Dupont!"

"We did it!" cheered Marinette, as she got up to congratulate her teammates. She celebrated with the rest of her team but still couldn't shake her odd feeling about Tim Drake. Something wasn't right with him, and Marinette was going to figure out what it was.

There was a celebratory banquet after the competition, in which the awards would be given out and the organizers would give their speeches. As Marinette entered the banquet hall she was Tim slip out of the banquet hall and into the hallway at the other side of the room. She made the snap decision to follow him, maneuvering herself through crowds of people until she got to the right exit.

As Marinette turned down the hallway, she caught Tim whispering into his phone in the hallway. As soon as Tim caught sight of her he quickly hung up his phone and shoved it in his pocket. Marinette approached him, eyes narrowing. "Why were you staring at me?"

Tim glanced around to see if anyone else was around, then blurted out, "You're Ladybug."

Marinette froze. That was not what she expected to hear. "I- I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"You're the Parisian superhero, Ladybug. It all makes sense - black hair, blue eyes, same approximate height and weight. You're incredibly passionate about superheroes - that's what tipped me off in the first place. To top it all off, you're from the same school that Ladybug has a nearly instantaneous response time for dealing with akumas that arise out of it. I didn't see anyone on your team who fit the profile of Chat Noir, but I guarantee that if I were to snoop around online I could find a picture of you with a blonde-haired green-eyed boy." Tim's rapid-fire analysis left Marinette with no chance to refute his claims.

"You figured all of that out during our hour-long debate tournament?"

Tim nodded slowly. "I'm a bit of a detective, myself. In fact, compared to some of my other detective work, figuring out that you were a superhero was easy."

"You're the first person to ever deduce that I'm Ladybug - including my friends, parents, and Chat Noir himself - and all you have to say for yourself is that it was easy?" exclaimed Marinette.

Tim shrugged awkwardly, seeming to have no words to defend himself. Or perhaps it was because he didn't trust himself to say anything, because he had already revealed more than he had intended to. At that point, Marinette started to make her own deductions. The ease at which he had figured out that she was Ladybug. The fact that he had alluded to making other deductions comparable to figuring out Marinette's Ladybug secret. His knowledge of Ladybug - a minor superhero from across the globe - to the extent that he knew not only her approximate height and weight but her reaction times for akumatizations in different areas of Paris. The pieces started coming together in Marinette's mind. Her eyes narrowed as she accused, "You're a superhero too, Timothy Drake. Or, at the very least, you've worked with superheroes before."

Tim took the accusation even less gracefully than Marinette did, shaking his head rapidly as he backed up a few paces. "You have no idea what you're talking about. I have no idea what you're talking about. Me? A superhero? No way!" Tim ended his babbling with a nervous laugh.

Marinette smiled pleasantly, pleased with herself. Although it wasn't ideal that a stranger knew her secret identity, she now knew that Tim wouldn't be spilling her secret to anyone, not when Marinette had the exact same dirt on him. "I'll see you around, Tim." Marinette whipped around and started to walk away.

"Wait, wait, wait! Marinette!" Tim called out.

Marinette tried to suppress the smile on her face as she walked back into the banquet hall. She was beginning to like Tim, and she could tell that this wouldn't be the last she saw of him. Now, all she had to do was get on even footing with him. Perhaps, by figuring out his secret identity. Which, Marinette figured, wouldn't be too difficult. After all, how many superheroes could Gotham possibly have?

(Cut to: Marinette, back at her hotel room, trying to tell the different members of the Batfamily apart. "How do they all have black hair and blue eyes? How is that even possible?")

#maribat #timari #timinette #timari january #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Tim Drake #one-shot #miraculous ladybug fanfic #fanfic #my work

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lightstar789 · 3 years

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My Final Thoughts on My Deepest Secret

SPOILER WARNING FOR SEASON 3!

Well folks. We did it, we've reached the end, and I couldn't be anymore sadder.

I first discovered MDS when the season 2 finale banner went up. I clicked on it, expecting a melodramatic love triangle. However, when I clicked on episode 69 (bad move, I know now) I was shocked to see the black-haired boy, whom I thought was the second-lead, on the ground with a bloody arm, calling out Emma for committing a series of gruesome events. Emma, the innocent-looking protagonist suddenly threatening him with a knife? I couldn't believe it. And so I started reading.

Fast-forward nearly a year later, and it's time to bid farewell to this magnificent WEBTOON. So, I wanted to write my final thoughts on each of the characters, and the plot itself. Obvious spoilers ahead, so let's jump right into it!

THE PLOT:

My Deepest Secret drowns in twists, each one making the story more convoluted as I continued reading. Emma going from bubbly, with a mysterious past, to a broken young woman who just wants those around her to stop worrying about her and be happy. Elios going from charming, to a yandere, to not even being real in the first place, to being killed by Emma, to having him miraculously survive, to be the son of Mr. Oscar. Sophie turning into a backstabbing betrayer, to Yohan abandoning his morals in the pursuit of love, and Hana being a decent person underneath it all.

While some were good, some of these twists weren't executed well, and were inherently problematic from the presentation (looking at you, DID fakeout and Yohan throwing his morals away for Emma twists). I still held out to the end to see a resolution and hoped that the DID storyline was a hoax. Luckily, Emma clarified what she really suffered from, that being hallucinations and hearing voices, and I blew a sigh of relief.

THE CHARACTERS:

Emma Brenton: Let's start with our main protagonist with a mysterious past. Sweet, empathetic, and courageous, she was loveable in every single way. Though she was witless to "Elios'" doings, she still made a wonderful protagonist. However, things take a turn by the third season. After regaining her memories, she becomes heavy with guilt, and her personality becomes a lot more mature, still wanting to do what was right in the end and turning herself into the police, after it was revealed that she was behind most of the series' main conflicts. At the end of the day, I still love Emma, and I hope she's doing better in rehab.

Yohan Lee: One of my favorite fictional detectives ever! Charismatic, funny, but also incredibly sharp and intelligent, he instantly became my favorite character. I was literally rooting for him along with others for him to end up with Emma at the end. At least, until the third season. Hoo boy. He goes from being law-abiding and kind to becoming a rebel to the system, choosing to protect Emma from the law, against his own original morals. The twist came out of left field, and after finding out how he used Sophie as bait, it really left a sour taste in my mouth. I know one of the main themes of this webcomic is that 'not everyone's as they seem,' but the justice-seeking kid turning morally gray isn't something I was a fan of. Regardless, he's still an amazing and funny character, and he's still one of my favorites.

Elios Dunsworth: Where do I even begin? I went from hating him, absolutely detesting him, mind-boggled by how kind he actually is, and felt empathy towards him. Yandere!Elios was manipulative, mean, and a full on sociopath. This belief carried on for so long before it was revealed in episode 69 that Emma stabbed him a year ago, and has been hallucinating him out of guilt ever since, prompting her to 'become' Elios to subside those feelings. I immediately loved the real Elios, which we got to see during flashbacks to Emma's past, and the three-part "Elios" arc. He was putting on this perfect mask so as to not disappoint others around him, and seeing Farah gradually help him take it off was one of the sweetest things to ever happen in this comic. Elios becoming my favorite character by the end of the series is a sentence I would've never seen myself saying a year ago, but it's true!

Hanamika: I was hoping that Hana wasn't really romantically involved with the professor and didn't frame the trio for cheating, and boy was I relieved. Authors. This is how to write a best friend character. She's blunt, yet incredibly compassionate towards her friends. I smiled when she talked Yohan out of committing suicide, knowing full well it would've worked, because it was her. She's the no-nonsense, loyal, and caring BFF that Yohan definitely needed, and I think they make a fine pair (platonically)!

Sophie McCarthy: As soon as she appeared, I knew she was going to do something bad. And I was right. She put herself down an unhealthy amount, to the point that I started to cast suspicions on her. Enter season 2, where she accidentally pushes Emma into a river, and doesn't think of telling anyone else. I pity her, because she got the short end of the stick, having been bullied, used as bait by Yohan, stabbed, knocked unconscious and entering a coma, but she still did those things to Emma and never apologized. I don't exactly hate her, but don't like her at the same time.

Farah: Literally the sweetest girlfriend anyone could ask for. No wonder Emma was jealous. She helped Elios take of his mask and remained patient for him, even though she knew it'd take a long time. She's so sweet that she still managed to feel pity for Emma when she was holding her at knifepoint. Thank god she wasn't run over by that car and was able to get help for Elios.

Nura Kim: A complete foil to Hana, Nura is the stereotypical sassy best friend trope that I have come to hate, but with a twist. She's actually concerned for Emma's well-being, convincing her to report her sexual assault case to the police, and is insanely protective of the main trio. She's extremely violent, and has literally chased and beat up Yohan once he was accused of calling Emma fat (he didn't). She also has threatened to kill the professor who assaulted Emma. While I was sure that at one point, she'd actually commit a crime, luckily, she didn't. I was pretty surprised she got engaged to Jamie of all people though, but they have an interesting dynamic. Never change Nura, never change.

Overall, that's all I have to say about the WEBTOON. Full of engaging and funny characters, yet with a morbid plot, My Deepest Secret does a good job with balancing the dark with the light. I'm sad to see this one come to an end, and I hope that Hanza Art will create many more in the future. I wish them the best of luck in the future, and hope that people remember this comic for many years to come. Goodbye, My Deepest Secret, and thank you.

#my deepest secret webtoon #my deepest secret

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dramaticnerdwithanxiety11 · 3 years

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, LITERALLY WHO LOOKS AT NICK FUCKING RUSSEL AND GOES “mm yes, take my autism”

THIS IS AN ISSUE

WHY AM I LIKE THIS

whatever its too late now! you get to hear me talk about it to avoid writing it!!

So, i’ll be explaining the show for you newbs who dont watch power rangers like a smart person (as in the not watching it is smart).

Power Rangers Mystic Force is, obviously, power rangers. It’s got the standard team of five with superpowers and weird biker-looking uniforms.

If im honest, PRMF is literally just power rangers but with like fantasy magic.

It follows Nick Russell, the new guy in town. He’s a biker and he’s got this tragic bs backstory about how his parents abandoned him (update: they work overseas, they adopted him and like do not vibe with him) and he travels, living with family members and how he never sticks around long enough to make friends. We know he’s staying with his sister, and about nothing else. ~ Nick Russell is actually really important, of course, he is the Red Ranger and if we didn’t have the leader be angsty what kind of Power Rangers would we be, am I right? (i dunno i havent watched other power rangers in like ten years) ~

But we’ll come back to that. ~

There’s also Charlie “Chip” Thorn, a hyperactive hyperimaginative redhead with a love for fantasy and superheroes. He’s eager to join the team and loves the idea of quests and fighting villains and shit. He’s the Yellow Ranger, with Lightning Powers. ~

Vida Rocca, the ‘bad girl’. She has this one strip of her short hair that she dyes and may I just say when I finished the show a third time I couldnt not think ‘yO HER HAIR CHANGES TO SHOW HOW SHE FEELS ABOUT THE RANGERS’ but lets be honest thats probably bs lol. Anyways, she’s a DJ and she loves music, she’s the Pink Ranger (who hates pink for most of the show) with Wind Powers. ~

Madison Rocca, the ‘good girl’. She’s Vida’s sister, and she like following the rules and she enjoys recording her friends to make little videos for them to look back on when theyre older. She’s hesitant and cautious, but will do a lot to make sure her sister is safe. She’s the Blue Ranger, with the power of Water. ~

Xander Bly, he’s cocky and thinks hes all that, and flirts with women like every chance he gets. He thinks he’s super handsome and amazing and probably has a superiority complex for one reason or another. He’s the green ranger, with Nature Powers. ~

Not rangers include: ~

Koragg, one of the big bads who (SPOILERS) later turns out to be Nick’s father and Udonna’s long lost husband. Early on in the show he can telepathically communicate with Nick, which gives Nick these really really bad headaches, great for angst, it’s used as a bit of a plot device through a lot of the show and ngl I love it cause angst. ~

Uhh forgot her name but there’s the Vampire Queen who has bat wings on her hips and is in a full leather body suit. She’s kinda boring. ~

I forgot her name as well but the Vampire Queens daughter, who later goes on to save her mother because she realizes that the Rangers are the good guys and she’s on the wrong team. ~

Udonna, the kinda ex White Ranger and a very powerful sorceress, as well as the Ranger’s trainer and Claire’s aunt. ~

Claire, (SPOILERS) who turns out to be the Daughter of Udonna’s sister, who was more powerful than her and sacrificed her life to seal the gate to what is essentially hell. She’s comedically bad at magic early in the show, and acts a lot like a comedic relief. ~

The Master, aka The Big Bad that the evil guys are trying to let free. Koragg before he became Koragg was trying to kill him and succeeded in trapping him further than all the others. He’s some weird tentical creepy muscles-showing no skinned weird i dunno i think i repressed this cause i forgot what he looks like lol.

Alright, so those are the characters. Now let me explain the plot.

Nick rides into town on his bike and is usually found set up outside the record shop that the rest of the Rangers (yet to be) work at. Btw, theyre all teenagers, but I think this takes place in summer cause we never see them go to school.

Anyways, this old man calls for somebody to help him, and says that his brother and him were walking through the woods and somebody grabbed him, and he needed somebody to go looking for his brother. Nick, not being apart of the town to know they have rumours about dying in the forest, offers to help.

Xander tells him the woods are haunted, he ignores the man saying the man needs help so who gives a shit about some rumours, and then Vida is like “i’ll help too,” and Chip joins in cause he thinks its gonna be some awesome quest. They make it out to the forest, and Maddie and Xander join them, (”Xander I told you if you ever took my car I’d rearrange your limbs!” -Vida, episode one).

The man is like super ominous and her vanishes once they get into the forest, this creepy witch lady saves them from some bad guys attempting to attack them, and then throws brooms at them that they fly off on.

Time skip not actually in the show but im losing steam so we’re moving on. Eventually, they make it to RootCore, aka the base of operations, and meet Udonna and Claire. Udonna is this super powerful sorceress and the White Ranger, and she trains them. Claire is her apprentice who is comedically bad at magic.

She hands out wands to them, they go to leave, get into a fight, all of them but Nick believe in and use magic, Nick leaves the forest, Udonna fights Koragg and loses her staff aka her White Ranger magic, and the Rangers are left in charge of saving everybody. In the end, Nick goes to leave and ends up showing up anyways to save the rangers from Koragg and embraces the magic, becoming the Red Ranger.

That’s the gist of the first episode, and the rest is kinda just “fight the bad guys, discover random secrets that make a surprising amount of sense for a show like this, fail a couple times, do some weird shit then end on a happy note”

WHICH BTW THE ENDING? FUCKIN WEIRD

The fantasy creatures integrate with Humans, Vida dyes all her hair bright pink, Nick fucking leaves town and this is the weird part. Because for one, Nick wanted to stay with his friends it was obvious, but for two; the way he left was w e i r d . He, Udonna and not-evil-Koragg who I forgot the name of, leave together.

The end scene is Nick riding up to the edge of the rode on his Motorcycle, then it slowly pans out to show Udonna and Nek (im just calling him Nek as in not evil koragg now) on bikes as well?? one of them asks if hes ready to go and they ~ride off into the sunset~

For one: THESE ARE AGE OLD SORCERERS WHO HAVE VERY LITTLE IDEA ABOUT HUMAN TECH?? HOW DO THEY KNOW HOW TO RIDE??

For two: dID THEY JUST HAVE THESE BIKES RIDING AROUND?? AND THE HELMETS?? DID THEY SHELL OUT A BUNCH OF MONEY FOR THIS?? LITERALLY WHAT???

anyways, great show! youve gotta watch it on some.. less than legal sites but shh its okay shhhh. It used to be on Netflix but like yaknow, its gone now. Either way, it’s a great show in my opinion! Like I mean it’s bad cause Power Rangers, so to most who are looking to critique there’s probably shit acting, and there’s a lot of not needed grunting in battle, the effects are shitty and the costumes are kinda depressing, but it’s still enjoyable!

Random Facts-- ~

Vida hates Pink, despite being the pink ranger. ~

Chip, Vida, and Maddie have been friends since either kindergarten or elementary school, i dunno about Xander. ~

They all work at a Record Shop/Music Shop together, and their boss is an idiot but kinda entertaining. ~

Vida turns into a vampire for about two episodes, and Chip is the one to figure it out. ~

Maddie gets turned to stone because Nick essentially calls her useless and shy, and so she went out to prove otherwise, and got caught up in an attack. ~

Chip opens a weird black bottle he found after a battle and some weird thing comes out and attacks him, he spends the B Plot of that episode quite literally dying with his soul being eaten and climbing a mountain to get the cure. ~

Koragg has a really dumb moral code about how he only fights with Honor and refuses to kill the rangers most of the time because its “not honorable” for some reason or another. ~

There’s an episode where Xander gets this really really ugly and big zit right on the tip of his nose, and he uses this perfection potion Claire made for plants. He proceeds to turn into a literal tree and be depressed. ~

There’s a Troblin, the child of a Troll and a Goblin, named Phineas who’s very entertaining and I like this. By the end of the show, he ends up dating the daughter of the Vampire Queen which when you think too hard about makes no sense. ~

Nick turns into Koragg at one point late in the series. I completely fucking forgot how, but he does lol.

#power rangers #mystic force #power rangers mystic force #tw swearing #swearing tw #probably #caps tw #tw caps #infodump #i love this show #can you tell?#infodumping #v fun to talk about #its a great show #anyways im gonna make another post now and talk about #my fic

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ladylynse · 4 years

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Chapter 14 [FF | AO3] of Whirlwind (SQ fic): Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny should’ve expected something like this when he got that phone call.

Previous | Timeline post

-|-

7:54 PM

Adrien raced for the rooftop door that would lead back into the hotel, knowing that’s where Hawk Moth would have gone. He should have risked taking Hawk Moth’s Miraculous while he’d been frozen, despite not knowing what that would have done to Danny or the imprisoned kwami. He should have known what Hawk Moth would do once free, attacking not him but the more vulnerable Susan to distract them. He should have realized that Hawk Moth would know of Randy’s smoke bombs from his earlier appearances and would use that to his advantage.

He should have anticipated all of that, and he hadn’t.

Of course, until Danny had reached up and pulled him out of Dracona’s talons and through the rooftop, he’d been contemplating the best use of his Cataclysm. Collapsing the roof below him wouldn’t have guaranteed escape, not when Dracona would fly, and he hadn’t been sure he wouldn’t accidentally touch something organic if he’d tried to strike anything else. Activating Cataclysm when Hawk Moth came to take his ring would have bought him five minutes, and his plan had come to rest on hoping for rescue within those five minutes (and subsequently asking Randy for a weapon he could safely destroy).

But even though his partners had come through for him, none of this had ended well.

When Hawk Moth had tackled Randy and slipped a smoke bomb from one of his pockets (and who knew what else; Randy hadn’t exactly gone through his pockets that Adrien had noticed), Adrien had still been moving towards Susan. He hadn’t acted fast enough to stop her from being attacked, even when he knew how quick Hawk Moth could be. It would be different if Ladybug were here, but she wasn’t, and he knew how important it was to get Susan medical attention when all the damage done couldn’t be reversed.

He hadn’t reached Susan before Jake. He hadn’t even made it to her side before Randy had been back on his feet, grabbing his arm and saying he’d take care of this, that Adrien—Nino, because he hadn’t trusted them with his name—should go after Hawk Moth. Danny had said he and Jake would find the akuma and bring it back to him, but Adrien had been willing to let the akuma go, let Hawk Moth go, to try to save Susan, even when he wasn’t the best equipped to do that.

First aid training would have gotten him only so far.

Hawk Moth was out of sight by the time Adrien flung open the door and bolted into the stairwell. He took the stairs two at a time, but the only footsteps he could hear was his own, and he didn’t catch any fleeting glimpses of anyone else.

That meant Hawk Moth would have transformed, and Adrien had no idea who he was beneath the mask. Adrien could hope to get lucky and catch someone with his build in one of the hallways, but he wouldn’t know for sure, and even if Hawk Moth had exited the stairwell on the top floor, he could easily have gone for the elevator or another staircase if not back to his room.

He’d hesitated, and now Hawk Moth was gone.

Adrien stopped, scanned for hidden cameras on the off chance that he’d be lucky and Hawk Moth hadn’t seen one, but of course there was nothing, at least not where he stood right now, and any blind spot would have been noted by Hawk Moth. He’d likely scouted out the entire building before using it. But if he’d deemed it safe to transform, then it was safe to Adrien to do the same, even if that meant he couldn’t take a look at security tapes to figure this out.

Adrien sat down on the stairs, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “Claws in, Plagg.”

“Did you want me to stick close to the ceilings and zip through the rooms?”

Adrien’s lips twitched into a smile and he looked up. Plagg didn’t often to volunteer to help like that without saying he’d do it in exchange for camembert. “He won’t still be Hawk Moth.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“What I mentioned to Danny before he took me back up to the roof,” Adrien said quietly. “Get a copy of the hotel registry. It might not lead to anything—this still might not be his hotel—but I can’t think of anything else. Danny said he was happy to go to the surrounding hotels, too, and get copies of their registries, but I just don’t…. What if it doesn’t help? Is it worth stealing that information, compromising all those people’s privacy, if it doesn’t help us? He might not have used his real name.”

Plagg snorted. “Why would he be that careful right now? He didn’t know you were here.”

“But he had to know that others would be. He was trying to draw people out. I’m sure he was looking for something to use against us, maybe even another Miraculous.” Adrien groaned and buried his head again. “I was so close. I should have just risked it and taken his Miraculous. At least then I’d know his face. I don’t know how I’d find him from that, but it would’ve been better than nothing. I could’ve talked to Nathaniel and commissioned a drawing to give to Ladybug, and—”

“You and the others still stopped him from getting what he came for,” Plagg interrupted. “You know he’s here. You know he’s close. Do you really think he’s going try something a third time? No. That’s too risky for him. He’ll lay low. So, if you get a list of names and room numbers, I can look for Nooroo and report back.”

It was enough to coax a brief chuckle out of Adrien; trust Plagg to completely ignore legality and the questionable morality of this idea.

“It’s like knowing you can buy cheese somewhere on the block, or somewhere in the store, and not knowing precisely where to find it. You don’t need to unmask Hawk Moth right now to get closer to the truth.”

“What if Ladybug thinks I wasted this opportunity?”

“She’s not that sort of person.” When Adrien raised his head, Plagg continued, “You’re doing her a disservice if you think she’ll jump to blaming you for not doing on your own what you haven’t managed to do together.”

“But this is the closest we’ve ever been to getting his Miraculous.”

“And it’s the closest he’s been to getting yours. You’ve been close to Hawk Moth before. You’ll get close to him again. Ladybug will be happy that you made it out of this with your identity intact.”

Adrien smiled; it really was nice to hear that. “Thanks.” Plagg opened his mouth, maybe to demand his camembert, but Adrien added, “I’m not going to make it out of this with my identity intact, though. Not completely. I want to tell the others who I am. They deserve to know.”

Plagg, who hadn’t closed his mouth, just said, “Having allies isn’t a bad thing. If you and Ladybug ever work with more Miraculous users, at least one of you will know who they are.”

“So you don’t think telling these guys is a bad idea?”

Plagg shrugged, as best he could ever shrug, and flicked his tail. “They know about the magical world, are already keeping secret identities, and have done their best to help you. You could make a worse choice than them.” He paused, then added, “Besides, it’s not like they don’t know what you look like without a mask on. If they hang around here and look at any of the signs, they won’t need to be geniuses to figure out your real name.”

Adrien winced. “Good point.”

“Can I get some cheese before we go back up? Since I make such good points and all?”

Adrien glanced towards the roof. “Do you think Susan will, um, need help we can’t give her? Should I have called an ambulance the moment I realized I wasn’t going to catch Hawk Moth?”

“They would’ve done that already if they figured they needed to.”

“Randy doesn’t have a phone right now. Remember what he was saying to Jake before?”

“Remember when I told you the Ninja had magic? Or at least magical artefacts helping him to use magic? Some ninjas know the art of healing. It’s a handy thing to have in the field. Even if this one doesn’t, the others had phones they could’ve given him, and Susan might’ve had a phone with her, too.” Plagg zipped closer. “You’ve decided to trust them. You can trust them. The fact that Hawk Moth escaped doesn’t mean they can’t trust you, and Susan will recover even without Tikki’s—Ladybug’s—magic. We have enough time for you to give me some cheese.”

Adrien wasn’t about to argue that, so he pulled out some cheese for Plagg as his way of saying thank you and then got to his feet and started climbing the stairs. He’d transform again before going back out; he was sure Susan would keep his secret since she was Jake’s mother, but he hadn’t exactly scouted the area for cameras. Once he’d assured himself that Susan was all right and he helped her get oriented again, they could fill her in on in what had happened. It was kinder for someone to do that rather than to leave them to find out themselves on the news, though he and Ladybug usually passed the task off to friends or family or a helpful bystander because they didn’t have the time to stick around.

If Jake and Danny were successful in finding the akuma, he’d have to figure out a way to contain it until Ladybug could purify it. He’d never heard if the others had found anything suitable. There hadn’t been time to ask. If only Hawk Moth had recalled the akuma—

But he hadn’t, which meant this problem remained.

One thing at a time.

One step at a time.

“Plagg, claws out!”

7:58 PM

There were noticeably fewer people out on the streets as they got nearer to the gala, but Haley still hadn’t expected to run into a blockade when access hadn’t been restricted earlier. Rotwood split off—she saw him heading for a cluster of people, no doubt to start spreading rumours that were too close to the truth to be of any comfort—and McFist engaged the security officer in conversation. She dawdled nearby, and when he pulled out his wallet, she ducked into the forbidden area and sprinted for that initial patch of ice.

Just because she usually didn’t break the rules, didn’t mean she couldn’t.

Besides, this wasn’t nearly as bad as setting a building on fire.

Haley didn’t wait long before she started lobbing Ninja Cold Balls. Most of them were aimed behind her because she had been followed, but as the balls burst apart and spread ice, it grew into a meandering pathway that followed her zigzagging run. It didn’t make a particular pattern and certainly wasn’t the giant rink that McFist and Rotwood had been envisioning, but the result was a ribbon-like trail that stretched from one side of the cordoned-off area to the other. She hurled the last Ninja Cold Ball at someone who’d tried approaching her from the side and slipped away, running for cover.

The fact that the ice was incredibly slippery and that made following her more difficult was a bonus.

She kept running until she was far enough ahead to take a corner and lose everyone behind her. An alley wasn’t a dead end when you were a dragon, at least not when it was somewhere without cameras, so she was on the rooftops by the time someone ran by below.

Haley took a moment to catch her breath, dismissing her wings so she could lie flat on the roof and stare up at the sky. She had no idea if Rotwood and McFist would be able to do anything to hold up their end of this plan. She had no idea how Jake and the others were faring. She had no idea if Gramps and Fu and Sun—

Haley wrinkled her nose. Something smelled like stale gasoline and…. Ethanol? No, that wasn’t right. She wasn’t sure what it actually was, but whatever it was, it was foul. She sat up, scanning the streets below before she realized the thrumming she could hear wasn’t coming there. Haley looked to the skies.

The dragon that glided towards the site of the gala wasn’t terribly big. It was smaller than Jake, maybe half his size. It tilted, circled the building, and then settled on the roof with something that would more appropriately be called a crash.

One wing never folded, and after about ten seconds, the other wing creaked out to join the first. The dragon perched there like a gargoyle, although the image was completed when it spouted a brief flash of fire instead of water.

Haley barely took the time to make sure the coast was clear before she jumped off the roof, calling out her wings as she fell to soften her landing. They disappeared as her feet touched the ground, and she kept running. She wasn’t the only person heading back to the scene, even if the crowd was thinner than it had been earlier, so her haste didn’t make her stand out. Ahead of her, people were already starting to gather and point upwards….

This couldn’t be McFist; there was no way he’d be able to act this quickly, even with his resources, and this was beyond Rotwood. It had to be—

“There you are, kiddo!” McFist said, catching her arm and jerking her back painfully as she ran past him. He didn’t seem to notice her whimper, instead pointing up at the building and the dragon that loomed over them all. “Look what Viceroy made! A Robo-Dragon! I’ve already called him and informed him he’s getting a bonus. He was too startled for words. It was great. He’s never speechless. I had to reward it, though. This is quick work, even for him, and sending it here to test it out on the NYC Ninja was a stroke of genius—mine, of course, but I didn’t think he’d manage it.”

Viceroy.

The person who helped him with the Sorcerer.

“I can’t get him anything,” Haley said in case McFist decided to ask.

He glanced down, realized that he was still holding her, and let her go. She prodded at her arm and winced. She didn’t think he’d done this intentionally, but bruises were going to be the least of her worries for a while. She was lucky he hadn’t dislocated it.

“Sorry,” he said, and he sounded like he meant it. “I was just excited. Couldn’t find Rotwood, and you’re the only other one who knows the plan.”

This hadn’t been the plan, though. Had it? She didn’t really count this as false advertising, but—

“I’ve paid them all off if you’re worried,” he added, nodding at the security officers. “Money doesn’t just talk. Works great for this kind of thing, too.”

Haley nodded absently, scanning the crowd. “Rotwood’s over there,” she said, following a glint to his monocle and raising her hand to point him out to McFist. “He’s getting blustery. I guess a robotic dragon is an effective way to shut down his claims about a real one.”

“Nice work. Come on.”

Haley held her ground. “Can I borrow your phone? I need to call someone. I’ll give it back, I promise.”

She wasn’t sure if it was a sign of trust or the foolishness of the rich that McFist dug it out of his pocket and handed it to her without asking any questions—or without sticking around to listen in, as he started walking off to give her some privacy. She walked in the other direction, keeping an eye on the crowd and her surroundings while she waited for Fu to pick up.

When he did answer, he didn’t say hello or the usual Fu here. He didn’t say anything at all, and she realized it must be because he didn’t know the number. “It’s Haley,” she said, and then the rest of the story spilled out of her in a torrent. The bare bones of the plan Nino had sketched out before they’d split up. How she’d gone from distracting two people to making promises in return for their help. Gramps hadn’t been entirely happy to hear that (Fu’d put her on speakerphone once she’d started talking), since he still wasn’t thrilled Jake had taken Rotwood to the Magus Bazaar in the first place, but he agreed that taking Rotwood back was a fair price for his silence.

He was even less happy about what she’d promised McFist, him being even more of an outsider than Rotwood, but Fu assured her he had something that would do the trick in reserve—he had a stock in case things ever went south and they couldn’t wait three weeks for him to brew something—and they both agreed that it was better than what McFist had initially asked for.

In turn, they filled her in on what Sun had been up to. She hadn’t just been seeding her own rumours; she’d been trying to get people away from the scene, efforts that had been stymied repeatedly until an order came from up top that cleared everyone out more effectively than she could’ve hoped. The official reason given for leaving had absolutely nothing to do with the dragon sighting, which had worked in her favour, but it clearly pointed to someone at the top stalling earlier, and she’d sneaked back to try to find out what she could.

Fu’s poker contacts had come up dry in terms of a decent magical containment device, since they couldn’t afford to bet on rumours right now. He hadn’t had any luck with any of the strings he’d pulled through his contacts at the Magus Bazaar, either, but at least Marty reported the coast had been clear at the shop since Trixie and Spud had left. Whoever had gotten to Susan didn’t have friends in the city, or at least not friends that could be spared to find and hit up anywhere of magical value.

Gramps, while he hadn’t found Susan, had made a list of ways they could tell Jonathan.

Haley nearly dropped the phone upon hearing that. “Really?” she whispered. She’d been thinking they’d never be allowed to tell him everything, that she’d always have to keep secrets from him. To think that maybe she wouldn’t have to….

“I have not always approved of your mother’s choice,” Gramps said quietly, “but there is no mistaking Jonathan’s love for all of you. Jake’s position as the American Dragon makes his path increasingly dangerous, and today has shown me that yours is little better. If my little lotus flower is not safe from the perils of this life, then your father must have a chance to choose it for himself.”

“He will. I know he will. Jake told all of us about the time he fought the Strigoi and didn’t even realize it. And the Jersey Devil.” She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “When do you think we can tell him?”

“Once we have Susan with us again.”

The words spread cold across her lungs. “Jake’s working on it,” she breathed. “He’ll do this, with his friends. Kara said he could.”

“I hate a wet blanket as much as the next person, but she said he’d have help, kid. Not that it would be enough.”

“It’ll be enough. He’ll make sure of it.” She finally caught sight of waving in the crowd, and she raised her own hand in recognition. “I have to go. Someone will call you soon. With good news.”

“Hope so. Good luck.”

“Yo, Haley,” Trixie said as she got closer. “Where’s Jake? I found that thermos of Spud’s he wanted, and he’s not answering his phone.”

“I’m not sure,” Haley admitted. She glanced over her shoulder to the dragon. “That was Spud, right?”

“Got it in one. He’d been working on something for the family restaurant and then decided to repurpose it.” Lowering her voice and leaning closer, she added, “Keep this on the down low, but we had to break into the school to steal some stuff to finish it up, so if anyone asks, that’s on Rotwood.”

“Rotwood might actually cover for you guys if you make a deal with him, you know.”

Trixie snorted. “Oh, I am not going there. If Jakey wants to take a trip to crazy town, he can go without me.”

“Rotwood’s helping me now.”

Trixie raised an eyebrow. “Girl, Spud and I caught him yelling about a dragon and a ninja when we got here. That is not helping in my book.”

“It’s, um, not as straightforward as it sounds.” Desperate to change the subject because she was feeling like a fool, Haley asked, “Where is Spud, anyway?”

Trixie pointed across the street to one of the buildings Haley had flown past earlier. “He needed the height for sight lines. Should be coming to join me now that the dragon’s grounded. We can take over Rotwood duty if you wanna get this to Jake?” She held out the thermos.

Haley took it. “Yeah, I’ll find him. Thanks.” She passed Trixie McFist’s cell phone and added, “This belongs to McFist. The rich white guy with the prosthetic arm. Loud. Probably accusing Rotwood of making everything up and claiming this is all a publicity stunt. You can’t miss him. I made a deal with him, too. Pass that back to him for me?”

Trixie whistled. “What exactly did we miss?”

Haley shrugged. “That’s what I want to know, too.”

7:59 PM

Susan used the damp scarf to wash away some of the blood (Randy had helpfully wet part of it for her with a well-placed Ninja Hydro Hand), but she didn’t dare try standing yet. The Ninja—Randy Cunningham, as he’d promptly introduced himself—had been kind enough to not only heal her wounds but to help her clean up, and she didn’t want to worry him by admitting that she wasn’t feeling quite as well as he seemed to think.

She was tired. Her head ached. Her memories were fuzzy, blending together like someone had given her a botched memory potion, and it was difficult to sort through them. She knew the important things, though. She knew she’d become a danger to everyone, flaunted the existence of the magical world, and been saved by her son and his new friends. She remembered the feeling of the wind beneath her wings, the heat of fire warming her from within, vividly enough that the memory warmed her now—or would, if the rest didn’t sicken her. She remembered anger and had a vague sense of struggling for control that left her with an impression of pride and foolishness—her own, not Jake’s.

“…shoob who totally owes me a new phone and magical air purifier. Since you’re his mom, can you nag him for me? I have a feeling that he’ll forget.”

Susan was saved from answering when the rooftop access door opened and Chat Noir emerged.

He was empty-handed. More to the point, he wasn’t smiling.

She didn’t need to remember the details to know he’d gone after the person who had done this to her. She’d suspected he wouldn’t be successful, not between what she recalled about Hawk Moth’s character and what she’d learned from Randy’s grumblings. From the way Randy’s shoulders suddenly slumped as he noticed Chat Noir’s expression, however, he’d held out hope. “Adrien, isn’t it?” she asked quietly as the boy reached them. “Thank you for your help.”

He froze. Apparently oblivious, Randy corrected her. “That’s Nino, actually. Well, we call him that. Didn’t I tell you? Anyway, the last guy is Danny.”

Nino. So he hadn’t wanted to tell them he was supposed to be one of the stars of the show? She could respect that, though she knew she wasn’t mistaken; he hardly looked different from his posters to her, though seeing through a subtly woven glamour was something she’d always been able to do. That was the reason she’d found most of her staff. “My apologies,” she said as he sat cross-legged on the roof, not looking at either of them.

“No,” he said. “No need to apologize.” He raised his head, meeting her eyes and then looking to Randy. “My name is Adrien. I was going to tell you all now anyway. I…. I’m sorry about not saying anything earlier.”

“What for?”

“For…for not trusting you. And—”

“No, I mean, you don’t need to apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for. And I dunno if I’d trust those guys either if they tried to drown me, so I don’t think they’re going to blame you.” Perhaps reading—or misreading—Adrien’s expression, Randy added, “I got the story earlier.”

Adrien opened his mouth, hesitated, and then said, “Thanks.” Turning to Susan, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better, but I’ll be all right.”

“I know you must have a lot of questions,” Adrien said, “even if Randy’s already filled you in. The memory loss is normal, and you need to understand that everything you did was under Hawk Moth’s influence and that you weren’t thinking clearly. He knows how to twist people’s emotions to manipulate them into doing what he wants.”

“No. I’m still partially at fault. There were times when I could almost block him out of my head, and I was aware of what I was doing. If I had been thinking more clearly, I hope I would have known that using you as bait to draw him out of hiding carried too much risk, but I still made that decision.”

Adrien blinked. “What?”

“I thought there was a way to defeat him and keep what I’d gained, and I risked all of your lives because of that. Perhaps I wasn’t thinking clearly, but Jake was right; some part of me should have known better, and for that, I apologize. To all of you.” She raised her head to speak her last words louder as Jake and Danny came back. Jake transformed and ran to her immediately, wrapping her in a hug that made her wonder how she could have been so angry with him before when she’d known he’d acted out of worry and fear for her.

“If this was anyone’s fault, I vote we blame Hawk Moth,” Randy said.

“Randy’s got a point,” Danny said. “People make mistakes all the time, but he’s deliberately trying to hurt people. You guys need to stop blaming yourselves for everything.” Turning to Adrien and holding out his hands, which were cupped together, he said, “We’ve got the akuma. We just, uh, don’t have anywhere to put it.”

“You won’t need to put it anywhere,” Susan said, speaking before Adrien had a chance. She might not know how Adrien usually addressed the problem, but she knew the type. A corruption of magic was hardly anything new, and neither was pouring it into a vessel, even if that vessel wasn’t typically alive. “You should just need to purify it and release it.”

“That’s the problem,” Adrien said. “I don’t have that ability, or at least I don’t think I do. My partner in Paris looks after that.”

“Jake can do it.”

Jake pulled back from the hug to gape at her. “What?”

“If you stopped listening to music during your training sessions,” she chided gently, “or at least kept it low enough that you could still hear what you were being told, then you would know already. Dragon fire is purifying.”

“That’s why it changed colour!” Danny exclaimed. “I knew that had to mean something.” He opened his hands, releasing a white butterfly.

Adrien grinned, straightening as he shed the weight of worry, and raised his hand. “Bye, bye, little butterfly.”

(see more fics | next)

#secret quartet #miraculous ladybug #danny phantom #adjl #american dragon #rc9gn #randy cunningham #sq fanfiction #fanfiction #my writing #ladylynse #snippets #crossover snippet #dp snippet #ml snippet #adjl snippet #rc9gn snippet

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opbackgrounds · 4 years

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Alright, friends, you know the drill by now. Here’s Part III of Sarcasticles’ overblown thoughts on sexism in One Piece. If you haven’t already, go read Part I and Part II before proceeding.

I promise after this I’ll be done. By hook or by crook, we’re getting through the point of the original question. To the Anon who originally sent the ask, sorry it took this long to get here, I hope it’s helpful.

Also, I allude to some very, very minor Wano spoilers, so if you’re sensitive to that sort of thing here’s your warning.

Characterization? I Don’t Know Her

What makes a good character?

I’ve spent an awful lot of time talking about character designs, when, funnily enough, it’s one of the aspects I pay the least attention to when it comes to deciding if I like how an author portrays their characters. I personally don’t care for fanservice, never have and never will. But unless it’s particularly egregious, I tend to ignore it because there are other factors I think are more important.

The secret sauce for building characters is hard to define, because a good writer can take a concept that has no right being any good and turn it into something incredible (Oda does this all the time) where bad writers will seemingly slot all the right information in the right holes and still have their characters come out of the developmental oven flat and under cooked.

One of the biggest buzzwords floating around these days is agency. Is a character active in their own story, or are they jerked around by the needs of the plot? Is their voice heard? Is their voice unique, or do they blend in with the background?

This is particularly important, because the term Strong Female Protagonist has been warped into shorthand for “girl who fights a lot and looks pretty doing it”. You can have a girl strong enough to lift mountains and still have her be a shit character. You can write a girl who’s main motivation is to get married and have babies with phenomenal depth. What matters is execution.

The Petition to Call A Group of Rescue Arcs a ‘Damsel’

Both Nami and Robin had to be rescued, their main arcs bearing similarities that are impossible to ignore. But these aren’t copies of one another as much as variations on a theme, and with the existence of Marineford and Whole Cake Island I think anyone would be hard-pressed to say that One Piece’s rescue arcs are a girl’s thing. At this point it’s a feature, not a bug.

Which makes sense given how fundamental the idea freedom is to the series. Hell, the first thing Luffy does after becoming a pirate is free Coby from Alvida’s tyrannical reign. Then he frees Zoro from an unjust authority that would have killed him had Luffy not intervened.

Notice a pattern here?

One Piece is written like Pachelbel Canon, in that a very simple core of ideas are repeated over and over with layers of complexity and nuance added over time, examining the same themes from every possible angle.

And when you look at the Four Big Rescue Arcs -- Nami, Robin, Ace, Sanji -- you’ll see that it’s Ace who’s given the least agency throughout his arc. Nami chose to hijack the Going Merry, repeatedly chose to push away the Straw Hats until she reached her breaking point, at which she chose to ask for help, with Luffy only intervening once she does.

Robin is a little less obvious, but during the post-Water 7 party chapters, Aokiji makes the interesting observation that Robin could have escaped CP9, but chose not to

Remember that before Robin’s backstory was shown, Luffy specifically said he didn’t care if she wanted to die or not, so long as she was with the Straw Hats when she made her decision. No one bullied her into “I wanna live”. It was a choice she made of her own volition after realizing the depths the Straw Hats would go on her behalf.

I know there are people who disagree with me, but Nami and Robin are well-written characters. I’ve expounded enough on my reasoning both here and on my main that I don’t want to spend the time belaboring the point. What I do want is to note that Luffy wouldn’t be able to attain his dreams without them. Nami keeps them on course while also severing as a sort of moral compass for the crew -- remember she was the one who insisted on saving the giant kids at Punk Hazard -- while Robin’s ability to read the poneglyphs is what’s going to get the crew to Raftel.

Robin admittedly doesn’t have the same presence within the Straw Hat Pirates as Nami, but I would hardly call that sexism. Since Water 7/Enies Lobby she’s been pretty content to go with whatever Luffy says, and the fact that she’s literally quieter than anyone else in the crew means she doesn’t get as much focus. I think there could be more scenes with her using her specific skill set, like her investigations in Wano and the forensic anthropology scene in the pre-Jaya chapters, but I’m okay with her being a supporting character.

The East Blue Crew have consistently gotten the most focus of any of the Straw Hats. They are the core of the crew, something Oda admits in a roundabout way in the Color Walk where they all appear together for the first time in a color spread

With the main cast as large as it is, not everyone is going to have the same amount of focus or development. Robin is given a unique voice within the story because she doesn’t overreact the way literally everyone else does. Through her silence, she stands out. I find there to be very meaningful character development when she feels comfortable enough with the Straw Hats to start calling them by name in Thriller Bark, relaxed enough with her friends to comitt her first facefaults in a series lousy with them in both Dressrosa and Wano.

In an ideal world, Oda would better rotate through his cast, much like how Brook was the unsung MVP on Whole Cake Island (where Nami was also excellent in a supporting role) but I don’t think people realize how hard it is to juggle almost a dozen different people in a story that’s bloated exponentially over time. To his credit, Oda has handled his expanding crew better than most writers.

I also find it hard to judge this aspect of the series because the manga’s not done yet. I don’t know how Robin and Nami will be used in the future. I mean, Robin never got a chapter title declaring her “The Seventh” which I find suspicious, so Oda could very well have events in store that completely turn our perceptions upside down. It’s impossible to say.

I will acknowledge that the lack of big fights is somewhat disappointing, but neither Robin nor Nami’s dreams revolve around them getting stronger. Robin doesn’t need to use her power to make people explode from the inside out, Nami doesn’t need to fry end-game bosses with her lightning stick. That’s simply not their narrative purpose. With the exception of Tashigi, I’ve found that the female characters advertised as fighters have lived up to their billing. Hancock came out of Marineford unscathed. Carrot’s sulong form was awesome, in the old-fashioned sense of the word. The whole climax of Whole Cake Island revolved around surviving Big Mom’s wrath. Not beating her, not fighting her, it took all the Straw Hats had to just survive. Once again you’re left with a number’s game where where there just aren’t enough female characters to even pretend things are balanced.

All said, I think if you’re going to complain about the lack of Robin fights then I think you also have to complain about the lack of Brook fights, and that’s just not something you hear about, especially after Whole Cake Island. You can’t have it both ways. Either there needs to be more even distribution of major fights throughout the entire crew, or you have to acknowledge that a character’s worth isn’t dependent on their fighting prowess.

One Piece is a battle manga, and I do think that it’s fair to criticize when a character isn’t allowed to fight when they’re perfectly capable of kicking ass. But it’s also an adventure story, and that opens up entirely new space for a character to occupy, and that’s where I think Nami and Robin (but especially Nami) really shine

That Moment You Realize Humor Isn’t A Universal Language

I’ve spent so much time defending Oda’s designs and characters that it might seem like I’m perfectly okay with everything that’s portrayed in the manga. To be clear, I’m not. If the messages and comments I’ve gotten over the past several days have taught me anything, it’s that many fans share the same sticking points I do, namely in regards to some of the gags.

I again want to be careful here, because I’m hardly an expert on Japanese culture and it’s really hard to tell if Oda writes his jokes because he thinks they’re funny, or if he thinks his audience will find them funny. I’m again going to default to somewhere in the middle, because if Oda truly found the perviness distasteful he probably wouldn’t have included it, and I’ve read enough SBS to know the guy likes his dick jokes.

First and foremost, one must address the culture gap. Japan ranks last among G7 nations on gender equality, In 2004 two-thirds of Tokyo women in their 20-30s reported to being groped while on public transport. There are numerous barriers that make it difficult for a woman to succeed either in the workplace or politics.

From what I can gather, some of these trends are reversing, albeit slowly and with great resistance. Contrary to what many people seem to believe culture is not always value neutral. And I say that as an American, recognizing there are plenty of things about my culture and country that are really fucked up.

But who gets to decide who’s right and who’s wrong?

When inside that kind of environment, that kind of culture, it’s a lot easier to understand how a character like Sanji can exist. It’s easy to understand why Momo shoving his face into Nami and Robin’s boobs might be played for laughs. It’s not an excuse, but an explanation. And with Sanji failing more often than not, being the butt of his own joke as he slowly turns into a parody of what he once was, one could almost say Oda is pointing those types of people and saying, “Look how pathetic this guy is. Now go laugh as he gets a nosebleed so bad he needs multiple blood transfusions in order to not die.”

I say almost, because Sanji is never condemned for his actions, nor does he learn from them. Instead you have this character who’s supposed to be one of the kindest characters in the series decide to immediately go peep on a woman’s bath house after gaining the power of invisibility.

Stay classy, Oda.

As distasteful as I find it, I don’t find fanservice to be an inherently evil thing that must be eradicated at all costs, and with Oda doing things like putting his entire cast, male and female, into skintight leathers you can hardly say that he’s excluding the men.

Everyone will have their line in the sand, and mine goes back to agency. When Nami did her Happiness Punch way back in Alabasta, that was of her own volition. When Nami and Robin dress in clothes that show everything but the nipple, that’s something they chose and feel comfortable in.

But when Smoker and Tashigi swapped bodies at Punk Hazard, Tashigi specifically asked Smoker not to strip, and he did anyway, opening her coat and removing her bra. This is especially egregious as Tashigi is one of the very few women in the series who is always shown wearing very conservative clothing. Oda specifically showed Tashigi getting upset at Smoker’s actions, and Smoker repeatedly refusing to listen to her.

That’s where I draw my line.

Some Final Thoughts I Couldn’t Fit Anywhere Else

Thought The First--Oda has an interesting habit of turning his most despicable, scummy pieces of flaming human garbage into the butt of the joke. Villains like Crocodile and Doflamingo are certainly evil, but it’s the idealized, cool type of evil that makes you almost admire them. There aren’t very many real-world Crocodiles, but just about everyone knows a Spandam, or an Absalom, or a Vander Decken. These kinds of villains aren’t scary because of their physical prowess, but their unyielding obsessions and the power they’re able to wring from the system, and -- surprise, surprise -- all three are either actively trying to be creepy sex pests or coded as such with the visual language of the comic.

And Oda turns them into a mockery.

While there are some who feel like not treating serious issues like sexual assault seriously are doing a disservice to people who have endured similar experiences I think there’s merit to turning them into a laughingstock. As someone much smarter than me said once, if an opinion cannot withstand mockery it’s revealed to be ridiculous, and these scummy-scum villains are certainly ridiculous.

Thought The Second--It’s hard to say how much sexism is a thing in-universe. Kuina is the only one who is explicitly told her dreams were impossible because of her gender, but with the recent reveal confirming that her family came from Wano, which in turn is based on Feudal Japan, it’s hard to say how widespread these beliefs are. Tashigi brought it up again at Loguetown and Bellemere specifically told her girls that they lived in an era where “girls needed to be strong, too”, but otherwise it’s not a topic that’s been explored in any depth

Thought The Third--The in-universe fetishization of mermaids has some implications that I think are unintended but worth discussing. Shirahoshi has a reputation of being one of the most beautiful women in the world despite not leaving her tower for over 10 years (she’s 16). Mermaids whose tails have split are worth less on the slave market than those whose are intact. Even Zoro erased Kokoro from his memory after meeting the more attractive Caime. It’s one of those odd things that when combined with the more obvious racism themes could have some unfortunate implications, and I think could have been avoided had Oda show a little more restraint with some of his jokes. Unintended consequences are still consequences.

Thought The Forth--There are many other instances throughout the series that people bring up with talking about sexism in One Piece. I feel like a lot of these can be explained away individually -- for example, both Belo Betty and Rebecca’s stripperific outfits were inspired by other media, the painting Liberty of the People and Red Sonja respectively; Lola chasing after an obviously abusive man makes a whole lot more sense when you meet Big Mom; Hancock’s love sickness could be seen as an emotionally stunted woman experiencing her first crush, etc., etc -- it’s when they’re all put together that they begin to read as “Problematic”.

It would be impossible to go over all these individually, but I tend to fall on the side of leniency. In the end, everyone has to make their own decisions based on their own values. I’m hardly unbiased, and my enjoyment for the series will undoubtedly make me look the other way when another might call the exact same incident The Worst Thing Ever. The thing is, opinions are like assholes, everyone has one and most are convinced that theirs don’t stink. I include myself in that statement. In the end it’s a comic for kids. It’s supposed to be fun.

Thought The Last--I have spent entirely too much of my time writing this up, but in the end I guess I have to go back to what I said when I talked about my thoughts on Sanji: Everyone has their own personal line of acceptable bullshit, and for me Oda does more good than bad. Sanji specifically gets very little leniency from me because I don’t like a lot of the gross behavior Oda passes over as a joke. But the female characters themselves, generally speaking? They’re fine. There are other mangaka that have more equal male to female ratios or have women play more active roles in the story, but Oda does a lot better than most other shonen titles I’ve read.

It’s okay to be critical of media you enjoy. It’s okay to complain. But remember that One Piece is a very long series, and there are some fans who have been a round for literally decades. I myself started reading weekly around the time Duval was introduced, way back in 2008. Every time a new batch of fans comes in the same old arguments get stirred to the top of the pot: Sanji is a creep, Oda can’t draw women, why doesn’t Robin ever get to fight?

It can be exhausting to go through the same hoops time and time again. So if you’re someone who is being critical and feel like no one is listening, or that a bunch of fans are going out of their way to defend Oda, that could be one of the reasons why. They’re tired of having a series they enjoy be shit on.

There are other fans who legitimately don’t think that Oda’s done anything wrong, that jokes are just jokes. If you happen to fall in that category, remember that not everyone feels that way. Art reflects life, which in turn reflects art. One Piece is a few million copies away from outselling Batman. To say it isn’t influential to young readers, both in Japan and abroad, is beyond asinine.

I thank everyone who’s taken the time to read this so far. I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how civil the discussion and my inbox as stayed. Even if I didn’t respond to your message, I promise that I did read it.

I wrote as much as I did because I know this is a topic a lot of people care about, and also so I hopefully don’t have to write about it again. A lot of hours has gone into this project, and it’s been exhausting, but in a good way, if that makes any sense. I’m ready to put it to rest.

I was joking with some friends that I think I’ve hit just about every hot topic issue now, so hopefully I can go back to fun questions like speculating if Wapol can eat a person and poop out a devil fruit.

Until then, Sarcasticles, out

#sexism #one piece #long post #sarc talks

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hazelenergy · 4 years

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@bed-of-briars @the-road-from-calvary

So here’s some info on how thinblood alchemy works. Kitty, I know you asked me about it so hopefully this clears things up. Antonia, I hope this has use for you, and I may be able to plague you with more history questions soon.

What is thinblood alchemy?

Good fucking question. Professionally, I’d say it’s the combination of high resonances with vampiric vitae and proper catalyzing substances to replicate vampiric disciplines or new powers completely. Among friends, I say it’s walking around my haven, tits out, ingesting random household items to see what happens.

How long has thinblood alchemy been a thing?

I’ve been trying to pinpoint how long thinblood alchemy has been around and I haven’t been able to find many sources giving concrete answers. It's like they want us eradicated so our notes and research were destroyed with us. The easy answer is thinblood alchemy started booming in the late 20th century with the drug scene. Which is true. With widespread access to technology, information, and the invention of online stores- acquiring the necessary gear is easy.

However, thinblood alchemy has been around a lot longer. I have been fortunate enough with my thinblood safehouse project to be allowed to see old notebooks passed down from alchemists- some dating from the 1980s and one delicate diary from 1947. I’m not at all surprised when the alchemists who possess these relics feel tremendous responsibility to preserve them. But there are even rarer and older documents. The alchemy notes from the dark ages work for our formulas- if you can translate their coded notes. So in truth, thinblood alchemy has been around since the creation of clan Tremere- or even earlier.

So how does it work?

Thinblood alchemy is not like other disciplines you may have seen or used. Lots of kindred of the 13th generation or lower are embraced and immediately possess control of their disciplines. Most alchemists wouldn’t describe their craft as something that came naturally to them- it took weeks, months, or even years to experiment and find what works. Additionally, this is not a practice for the faint of heart or weak of stomach. To get the necessary ingredients requires some unsavory acts- it is a fact as true as the beast within us.

Across the board, you need vitae. Doesn’t always have to be yours but it is awfully convenient to use what you’ve got inside. Cool you got blood, and it's yours because it’s in your possession. Now what? You need something to put it in. But it can’t be just anything. Much like a tremere needs very specific tools to do some rituals, thinblood alchemists need an alchemical cauldron or furnace. There are currently three possible ways to procure such a furnace which have developed into the three distillation methods.

The first is my preferred method. The fancy latin some of us use is Athanor Corporis, meaning furnace body. I utilize my own stomach as my alchemical cauldron. After eating or drinking the necessary ingredients, I can will the blood to ignite the furnace. Most of the time it just kinda feels like a heat radiating beneath my ribcage. On occasion it has felt as bad as taking rapid fire bullets to my gut and then pouring vinegar onto the holes...but it's rare. The benefit of this method is it allows me to keep the power or discipline in my system for extended periods of time- sometimes even as long as a month. I also can travel a lot of the ingredients on my person, swallow them, and then hunt down the right resonance. It's a very versatile method that lends itself well to being discreet. The downside is, this is a one power at a time method. If I consume a new formula, it replaces the original power. Which is a bummer and why proper planning is important. Additionally, not every thinblood has the gullet to do this. I can speak from very personal experience that I have eaten and swallowed some terrible tasting things. There are some that even I found myself vomiting back up and then immediately racked with hunger. Those that use this method have given some extreme criticism that they had to train themselves to keep stuff down or chase it with so much vitae that they nearly bond themselves.

The second method I find morally uncomfortable and I refuse to try it. This one’s called calcinato. Instead of using your own body- which you know can’t die from drinking bleach because it's already dead, you use human vessels. You can emotionally manipulate them to match the resonance you need. You can also use drugs. You can also use sex. Then you feed them with the proper ingredients and your own vitae, and their entire body activates the formula. The alchemist can then drink a number of doses from that vessel until their resonance changes or there’s no blood left. There are a few benefits to this method. I have a sharp nose which allows me to smell resonances. I imagine that if I lacked this innate ability, finding and tapping resonances would be far more difficult or left to chance. This ensures you are getting a specific resonance every time. Additionally, the time it takes to drink from that vessel can be faster than I can swallow new ingredients and will the blood to brew. I’d possibly be hungrier, they could be full. Lastly, a thinblood that uses this method is possibly in the enviable position of possessing a herd. If they are, they could easily have multiple brews in many people- making them more prepared than I could be with pockets full of magnets. The downsides to this method are numerous- besides my personal grievances. The first is that this method quickly lends itself to masquerade breaches. Taking a bite from your vessel in the open is not a possibility if you care to play the masquerade game. Secondly, if you are separated from your vessel, what do you do? If the alchemist is someone who coerced or drugged their victims into doing this, what happens when they escape? And if they do possess a herd, what happens when your stock is depleted? Agh, it makes my stomach turn just referring to people like that ew. The second issue is the same as the first method- one power per body.

The third method is more common but harder to distill. This method closely mirrors actual alchemy from the dark ages, where all the ingredients are poured into the athanor and distilled inside. The furnace needs to be able to conduct heat. You can use a kiln, a metalworking furnace, or modern inventions like an electric pressure cooker or as its nickname “cooking” suggests, get a meth cooker. Some asshole dubbed it fixatio once trying to give it a better street name. But since Breaking Bad aired, that name is never going to stick. Once distilled, the resulting formula can be bagged or bottled for future use. This method has the most benefits- but also the most disadvantages. It’s that reason I prefer the first method, but I have dabbled into this one to expand my knowledge. The first benefit is that the alchemy is portable. You don’t have to hunt or lead a vessel around. You can hold a lot of different formulas inside jackets, backpacks, pockets, or my favorite i’ve ever seen- a ren faire waterskin. You can be prepared for lots of encounters, but it still takes time to imbibe the entire dose. The other benefit is its lucrative possibilities. Selling these means money in pockets. And money lets you go buy more weird shit for more alchemy. It’s also excellent for quick favors. The downsides are you have to be cautious of who you’re selling to. A lot of alchemists who use this are also drug dealers and plenty of final deaths have occured from people selling on someone else’s turf. Additionally, each brewed formula is unique to their alchemist. In intelligent hands cough TREMERE (or even an alchemist armed with Tremere secrets) it can be traced back to you… or worse. Travelling around with blood bags, vials, or a waterskin can be tricky too. You have to take care that you don’t burst or break any of these creations. Oh you fell? Better hide that pool of blood spilling out from your sweatshirt pocket. On top of that, most of these aren’t shelf stable. And even if they are kept cold- some still can’t make it more than a few days before it spoils. Like the two methods before, it is a one power at a time rule. Once consumed, you gotta use whatever you drank immediately or it will fade. Lastly, the reason this is more difficult is because it requires more powerful ingredients and a stationary lab. Substitutions don’t tend to work- you gotta have the best you can get. Which gets difficult when high level preparations demand rarer and rarer ingredients.

Each alchemist is going to have their own research methods, however most of us are resorting to trial and error. However, we unanimously agree that you need to brush up on modern chemistry and learn how to hunt for specific resonances. I’ve come to learn that my sharp nose is a trait not just present in thinbloods and by some older kindred it has been dubbed “bloodhound.” I have been fortunate that I don’t need to rely on wit and observation to figure out what resonance my potential victim has. I smell it. However, those without this ability have to learn to pinpoint emotional responses and their corresponding resonance. Put simply, there are five possible resonances: Melancholic, Phlegmatic, Choleric, Sanguine, and Absent. Melancholic resonances tend to be associated with relaxation and calmness but also sadness and fear. Easy targets are stoners, funeral goers, and horror movie newbies. To me, this has an overwhelming sour smell and tart taste. Phlegmatic is content and happiness, but can also be feeling in control. This one can be one of the hardest to pinpoint, since happy feelings blend so effectively with choleric and sanguine resonances. Phlegmatic resonances have a salty smell to them. Choleric is rage and anger, but it also can be passionate and driven. Choleric resonances are typically spicy flavors, and are some of the easiest to recognize. It’s hard to mistake true anger for anything else. Sanguine is also joy and happiness, but also includes how horny someone is. Sanguine resonances are easy to find in flirtatious club goers and generally have a sugar sweet aroma. Lastly, there are those who are completely uncaring and have no resonance. This apathy is extremely difficult to pinpoint- even with my nose as it has the smell of nothing. The only distinguishable thing is that it has an overpowering bitter taste.

Regardless of whether or not a thinblood is an alchemist, they can take advantage of these resonances to grant themselves temporary power. Most kindred need the resonance to be exceptionally potent to gain these benefits. However, thinbloods are hypersensitive to even fleeting resonances. Most of us have pieced the puzzle together that biting into a club goer equals a bit of presence for the next couple hours. But for alchemists, especially those brewing outside the body, hunting and preserving these resonances is essential for alchemy. Most resonances flicker away within fifteen minutes out of a body, so you have to act fast to get it into the formula and start brewing.

Once the proper resonance is obtained and mixed with ingredients in the furnace, it’s pretty obvious of whether or not it worked. If it works, you have the discipline or new power until the brew is used up. If it fails, at best nothing happens. At worst, I’ve had some rough stomach aches if brewed internally. I’ve also had some mild explosions or acid seep through objects. Failure can be devastating. But it’s just a fact of the practice.

So if it's a practice, why can only thinbloods do this?

I don’t know. I don’t think lower gen kindred can learn this. Looking at how disciplines can be gained for older vampires doesn’t seem to match how thinblood alchemy works. It much more closely resembles the paths that Tremere apprentices can choose to learn- but even they couldn’t pick up these tricks. My adoptive sire, a Tremere, tried to mimic our findings and found she could not will the blood like I or my coterie mates could. Perhaps this was part of her clan’s history and curse. However, I’ve not had other clans ever try. To most, the thought of consuming anything but blood churns their undead stomach. Some of you can’t even ingest bagged blood. The ability to eat is a rare trait in older kindred but fairly common for thinbloods. Perhaps this is why it works for us.

Additionally, thinblood alchemy allows us to replicate disciplines but also create new powers entirely. These powers may be unusable to the other clans. And I don’t mean that in the secretive way that Necromancy or Levinbolt is. Your blood is too strong and therefore isn’t affected by the slight changes in resonance and mere drops of vitae in a brew. But to a hungry thinblood, three drops of vitae, some fridge magnets, and choleric blood means we have telekinesis.

I’m young. And if I keep playing my cards right and brewing my alchemy correctly, I’ll still be here in 40 years and hopefully can refute this entire thing with the years of knowledge I possess. But I hope this answers some questions to how alchemy works, and leaves you with plenty more for us to bargain favors for answers.

#vtm #thinblood alchemy #thinblood alchemy is wack #hazel answers questions #long post

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prince-toffee · 3 years

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She-Ra #0

- Karma -

[Two Years After The Defeat of Horde Prime]

Plumeria

The moonlight of the many Etherian moons rained down and coated the greenery of Plumeria. Plumeria was one of the smallest kingdoms on the planet, there wasn’t anything fancy or kingdom-ly about it. No enormous castles, not even real towns, just a bunce of tree-houses and empty fields. Which in a way was perfect for the refugee clones, the open fields were filled with makeshift tents, with tired, injured, and or defective clones with conditions that had to be looked after, taking up residence in them. Over the two years more and more shelters accumulated since the defeat of Prime and his main armada. It all worked out fairly well, with the clones populating the ground and the Plumerians residing in the trees. They much like most Etherians had mixed feelings about the clones, some were more welcoming than others. Fortunately brawls didn’t break out as often as in some other parts. It was clear that the Princess of the land, Perfuma, wasn’t too thrilled about their presence, but she put on a smile and played nice.

Modulok wasn’t quite sure what the title of ‘royalty’ or ‘Princess’ meant on this world, but it seemed as if the success criteria involved owning some land since there were apparently hundreds of Princesses, some with kingdoms the size of a town, or a nightclub, believe it or not. How the political landscape worked, he did not know. But he didn’t really care either. It was peaceful that was all that mattered to a surgeon and medic like Modulok. The settlement at Plumeria was one of the smaller ones, nowhere near as developed and packed as Doormat or the New Salineas. And again that’s why he liked it, quiet, far away from anything and everything, a grasshopper here, the rustle of leaves there. However something always seemed to go out of its way to find him. Case in point his quite drunk brother, Vultak, who barged into Mod’s tent in the middle of the night.

Vultak clumsily stumbled into the tent, two glasses of some sort of alcoholic drink in hand. He set the glasses on the operating table Mod was currently working on. Before Mod could protest, as he opened his mouth Vultak raised his pointing finger up to him to stop him. V then proceeded to drag a chair from the side to the operating table. V sat down and took a swig emptying one glass. The drunk clone just stared dazed at the patient Modulok was operating on, but caught a glance coming from Mod that was disapproving.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all, carry on.”

That drew out a sigh from the medic, he was all too familiar with those snappy comebacks as well as his delusional pessimistic rants and ravings, which Mod was sure were about to follow. The two just looked at each other, a sedated individual between them, it was quite a comedic scene to be hold if there were a third party observing.

Modulok had lost his arms in one of the countless wars and had replaced them with cybernetics which could split in two giving him the total of four arms to work with. As a defect Modulok had blood red lenses, eyes and teeth. Not to mention his skinny frame, and lack of weight, and inability to gain weight. He wore a black and red tech suit, not bulky like Hordak’s, much thinner with tubes and cables hanging here or there. Under it you could see his bones and rip cage pressed tight around his skin, in some areas the white bone broke through the skin forming vein-like patterns across his body - common side effects for defects. A unique defect to Mod was that his skin was coloured red, it didn’t mean much, but others thought it looked neat.

Vultak was far more odd and different, some clones even called him the strangest clone alive. One of the oldest living too. V was a defect too, defects liked to stick together, at least most of them, not Modulok specifically. Vultak was thin too, like a walking toothpick. Vultak’s top half of his head was a red glass-looking dome resembling a radar display. No eyes. However a long witch-like nose. And shark-sharp teeth, though that was common with all clones. Possibly his most iconic aspect were his retractable wings being able to extend out of his under-arms, unveiling metallic feathers as sharp as knives. Various experimental technology was incorporated into his arms, giving his wings the ability to cause micro-hurricanes, and gusts of wind. And flight, obviously.

Also, he was thousands years old.

“V, you clearly want something so just say it and get it over with, the less time I spend with you the saner I’ll remain.” Modulok stated tiredly knowing fully well conversations with V could be exhausting. He leaned on his right arm which he placed on the table.

“What? Come on, can’t a brother just want to hang out with his other clone brother from another mothership?...” Mod was unamused and unphased, in the pause and silence his expression did not change. “And also my dearest, most awesome, talented brother, who is a doctor... I could... use some of that reeeeeally good tastin’ medicine that only a certified medic like you can hand out.” Vultak gave him a smile and tilted his head.

Mod gave him an eye roll, “I am not handing you the pills!”

“Oh come on, Mod! This stuff’s getting out on the street anyway! You’re not upholding some moral high-ground, you’re not holding society together! Come on, please, just one.”

Modulok waved him off, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. And I’m not trying to up hold anything, I don’t care what happens out there, but it just so happens that when some stupid non-sense takes place out there it means I’ve got more work here.” In a way he was right, Modulok was the most famous medic from the Galactic Horde, known across countless galaxies, being a defect medic and a medic for defects, that increased his infamous status. If anyone, any clone was in need of aid they turned to him for help, to say Mod was busy would’ve been an understatement. “Don’t even get me started on those pills that Hordak and Dryl made, I have no idea what they were thinking.”

The Isle Pills. Small capsules of biochemical engineering, synthesized from the ‘infected’ ‘tainted’ plants of Beast Island. That was the way people described the island, there were many theories about the landmass, a lot of scary campfire stories, disputes about whether it even existed. Its existence was apparently confirmed by the Princess of Dryl. Something about backstabbing and being imprisoned on the island, the clones weren’t sure, and they didn’t care much. But the nature of the island had been kept secretive, partially perhaps because the lab-partners studying the location don’t know many thing about it either.

It is also to be noted that they, the pills, weren’t meant for wide spread public use, apparently the Drylian Princess herself was against the production of it. But somehow they got out. Modulok was sure Hordak wasn’t thrilled that his experimental treatment for his defection was being distributed like hot buns at a bakery sale.

The pills have an altering affect on the consumer’s mood and how they perceive reality. Where the island would have enraptured an individual in their own fears and insecurities, somehow those mad-scientists altered the effect of the flora to envelop the individual in numbness and sleep-like paralysis. Hordak no doubt developed the pills as a way of coping with his defection and all the pain that came with it. So the product became quite popular with other defects. Including V, to no surprise. The pills were addictive and seemingly untested, and someone was making a profit off of it no doubt.

“They probably weren’t thinking, that’s what! If you ask me that Hordak guy is insane. All his bad decisions always seem to bit us in the rear.” The infamous Hordak, a general from a previous life, a defect that was sent to the frontlines by Prime personally, some even have speculated that he was meant to be Prime’s next bodily vessel. So in a sick twisted way, that defect saved him. Funny how life works.

Hordak somehow ended up on Etheria, he doesn’t even know how, somehow he amassed a large following and took over half a continent, destroyed a lot in the process. People hate him, his face, and that means of course many weren’t thrilled about hundreds of thousands of clones falling from the sky and finding a home and shelter on Etheria. Honestly, Modulok didn’t like him much either. Vultak unlike Mod actually quite liked Hordak as he served under him once, V trusted him.

“Mod, they would’ve hated us with or without him at the helm, at the end of the day he’s one of us, the whole universe hates us, we gotta stick together.”

“Where’s your ‘screw everything’ mentality gone to?”

V downed his second glass and wiped his mouth, “Washed away and washed down...” V just stared at the now empty glass inspecting it suspiciously as if he was looking if the glass was withholding additional liquid from him. It became obvious that V was thinking, contemplating something, he placed the glass down with a ‘clink’ on the table. “...I’ve been getting the nightmares again. And it’s getting worse, it always does. It’s not long ‘til the nightmares start coming out during the day, while you’re awake.”

Modulok understood, of course he did. He too had went through some harrowing experiences, war is never a good thing for the mind. Mod was an excellent surgeon and doctor, he can do some miracles with scalpels and bandages, he could take care of physical wounds. But there were wounds and scars that he couldn’t heal.

Vultak continued, “Do you believe in karma, Mod?” The question gave the medic pause, he didn’t quite know how to answer that, and he was sure this was one of those questions you don’t answer as V was going to no doubt continue and give his own answer. But the short reply would’ve been ‘no’, Mod didn’t believe in any higher power or any metaphysical concepts such as fate or destiny, it all rather felt far-fetched to him. “That our actions and deeds from our previous lives affect and decides our fate and fortune in the future?

That the future takes roof in the past? You do good, you have good fortune, a good life awaits you. You do bad, you have bad fortune, hell’s coming your way. Revenge and retribution on a cosmic level. It’s the universe’s way of punishing the evil and the wicked, that’s us by the way.

And we do deserve it, don’t we. I mean we’re literally walking, breathing, war machines, our sole purpose was to destroy, perpetuate war and cause all around carnage.

Everyone always wants to blame Hordak for Etheria hating us, but every single one of us has had a part in conquering half the damn universe! Countless worlds either chained or turned to dust, all thanks to us, all of us.

All the terrible things we’ve done, and now what? We just get to have a happy ending? No. No, no, no. Karma’s just getting ready, reeling back, ready to backhand all of us to oblivion. We gotta suffer first... Karma’s balance, karma’s proportional. Which isn’t good for us since we did a lot of wrong-doings. Remember the Siege of Denebria, the War for Primus, the Taking of Trolla, the centuries-long Massacres at Epsilon-19, everyone wants to forget that hellscape death-trap. But we just can’t, some things claw their way back to the surface from below all that brainwashing-sauce.

And that’s just the horrid stuff we remember!... Can you imagine how many lives we’ve forgotten? How many years we’ve lost? How many people we’ve forgotten? That four eyed freak robbed us of everything that made us, us!... All that stuff’s gonna bite us in the back.”

Modulok simply listened, he was used to V’s rants and ravings, but all that... seemed different. Usually V made out everything to be a joke, never taking anything serious, he was a jokester. The nihilistic joker seemed to be subdued, some sort of seriousness, some existential dread on his face. Vultak was genuinely opening up to Mod, and he appreciated that. But it was a shame they had to get drunk first before having conversations like that.

Mod became gradually more worried as V continued with the dialogue, after he paused and just began to stare blankly at his glass again Modulok responded, “I appreciate you opening up, kind of, V, I just wish it didn’t take the influence of alcohol... [sigh] Look, V, I know tomorrow is never certain, and that we all carry the weight of scars on our brittle shoulders... but please believe me when I tell you, that everything will be okay, everything will get better. Don’t drown yourself in poison. The world’s not falling apart, and neither should you.” Mod placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, trying to comfort his friend.

Vultak simply looked up at his brother, his face blank, he knew Mod meant well, but it didn’t help much to comfort him. And so V hopelessly replied, uttering almost a warning, “Just you wait doc, the sky’s gonna come crashing down on our heads.”

#hordak #horde clones #horde prime

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hottestthingalive · 5 years

Text

Roses

Roman and Deceit like each other and are hopeless pining gays about it, Remus and Patton are useless but supportive wingmen, and Logan and Virgil are manipulating everyone but not in a bad way.

Just to avoid any confusion, when the text Deceit is saying is bolded, it’s his lies poking through his regular speech! I know this is a bit of a change from my first fic, but my Analogical heart has more than enough room for Roceit, so that’s what y’all are getting!

tw: mild cursing, sexual references (because Remus)

It was Remus who figured it out first, strangely enough. But then again, he was half of Creativity, albeit the more chaotic part, and both he and Roman had always had a sense for romance.

So it was Remus who figured it out first. While in the process of stealing Roman’s shoes, he noticed a vase brimming with roses on his desk. In itself, this was not unusual: Roman liked his flowers, and Remus personally believed that there were enough plants in his room to fill a small forest. But the flowers were a pale, soft yellow, and as far as he knew, Roman tended to stick to red roses, or pink.

Remus blinked. “Well, that’s odd,” he said out loud, dropping the shoes he was stealing onto the bed. “What’ve you got these for, Ro?”

So he did a bit of snooping, eventually settling down at Roman’s desk to read a leatherbound notebook. Perched on the legs of the chair, the top of the backrest balancing precariously on the fluffy rug, Remus munched on Roman’s deodorant and flipped through the pages.

It turned out to be a diary.

After finishing his reading, and the deodorant, Remus threw it across the room, spinning on his precarious perch. “Ew,” he rolled his eyes. “He writes over and over and over about his huge crush on Dee, and doesn’t once mention any sexy stuff? Blargh.”

“Hey,” he realized after a second, “doesn’t Dee like Roman?”

A grin spread across his face.

From Roman’s room, Remus took three things.

His left shoe

A bottle of conditioner

A rainbow friendship bracelet with small, colorful plastic beads.

Oh, and a newfound desire to set up Dee and his brother. But that one wasn’t edible.

Logan learned next, when Roman burst into the living room with Deceit’s hat in his hands, running for his life. Virgil glanced over from where he was perched on the fridge, scrolling through his phone, and shrugged at Logan, in a “Well, what can you do?” gesture.

The Logical side, who was baking cupcakes (in the hopes of teaching Thomas how to do the same) sighed, returning to the batter he was mixing. He did notice, however, when Dee appeared in the room, instantly making his way for Roman.

“I didn’t tell you not to touch my shit, right?” he snapped, brushing back his brown curls with his hand. “Give it back, Roman!”

“But I like your hair,” Roman protested, a mischievous grin (one Logan would have more expected from Remus) playing around his lips. “It’s cute!”

Dee turned bright red as he scowled, attempting to grab the hat from Roman’s hands. The snake-like side was taller, yes, but Roman was quick, and escaped quite easily. “Roman!”

“You’re going to have to come and get it,” the creative side grinned, before tossing the hat, past Logan and towards the refrigerator. “Catch, small, dark and lonesome!”

Virgil fumbled to grab it, luckily managing not to fall off, and hissed at Roman.

��Are you alright?” Logan asked him after Roman had dashed into his room, Deceit following close behind. Neither seemed to be aware (or to really care) that they’d left the bowler hat behind.

“I’m fine,” he nodded, though he was staring at Roman’s door, perplexed. “What just happened?”

“I have no idea,” Logan sighed, returning to the mixture. Only a little more, and then he would pour it into a cupcake tin and begin making the icing.

But he did have an idea, kind of. It had almost seemed like Roman and Deceit were flirting with each other, in the ways that much of the media Thomas indulged in portrayed romance.

Well, it did make sense, he mused as he meticulously poured the batter. They had been spending more time together lately, although (Logan winced as Roman’s door was flung open again, Deceit now the one sprinting as he carried Roman’s sword in his hands) they almost seemed oblivious to their own feelings.

He slid the cupcakes into the oven, setting a timer on his phone, and glanced over to where Roman was simultaneously raging at Dee and laughing as he ran down the hall after him, a faint blush visible on his cheeks. Not completely oblivious, then, just apparently unaware of the reciprocation of their feelings.

Logan glanced at Virgil, who was watching the two sides with a sort of amused befuddlement. Should he tell him of his newfound hypothesis?

No, he decided. It was Roman and Deceit’s business, firstly, and besides, Virgil was intelligent. He would figure it out quickly, if he hadn’t done so already.

In the anxious side’s defense, he had suspected that there was something going on between Deceit and Roman for a long time. But Virgil was well known for paranoia jumping to conclusions, and was often wrong. So he’d stayed silent, brushed his suspicions off to the side, and, although he kept an eye on the two sides, he waited until he had enough evidence to be certain of anything.

Staring at the list he’d made, which now filled an entire notebook and was making its way through a second, Virgil wondered if he had enough evidence yet. Perhaps he ought to wait until he’d filled the second. Or a third. Or a fourth. Or a fifth--

No. He was spiraling. In, one, two, three, four. Hold, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Out, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Breathe, Virge, he told himself. The stress of this was getting to him, apparently, and that incident in the kitchen a few days ago hadn’t helped things. It certainly had seemed like they were flirting (and besides, they’d been blushing far too much) but what if he was taking things too far? Maybe they were just very, very good friends.

Maybe he should ask Logan? The logical side was always good at this kind of thing, and usually helped to ease his anxiety, as logic often did for the mental condition. But what if by doing so, he betrayed Roman and Dee’s secret? Did they even have a secret? What if Logan thought he was being an idiot?

He groaned, grabbing the notebooks. If things kept going on like this, it’ll start to affect Thomas, he told himself, as he shut his eyes and appeared outside the door to Logan’s room, knocking on the door.

“Come in,” he heard, and opened it, hood up as he stepped inside.

Logan turned in his desk chair, concern evident in his eyes. “Virgil? Are you alright?”

“Hey, L,” he waved awkwardly, clutching the notebooks to his chest. “Can… Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Certainly,” Logan nodded, fully facing him now. “Is there an issue?”

“No, everything’s fine. I’ve just been noticing some weird stuff lately, and I can’t tell if I’m jumping to conclusions or if there’s actually something going on.” Virgil hesitated. “Is there something going on? Between Princey and Dee, I mean?”

“What do you mean by ‘something’?” he asked, words oddly cautious.

“I’ve been keeping an eye out for a couple weeks now,” he explained, handing him the notebooks. “And I haven’t been like, stalking them or anything, I just did what you’re always saying to do -- gather data when you have the opportunity? I wrote it down to make sure I wasn’t imagining stuff, too.”

“You noticed all of this?” said Logic, incredulous, flipping through the pages.

“I’m a bit more observant than the rest of you guys, generally, because I’m Thomas’ flight or fight instinct.” Virgil shrugged, biting his lip. “I just kept an eye on them, wrote down what I saw.”

“So, you believe Roman and Deceit are, or desire to be, in a romantic relationship with each other?”

“They aren’t, yet,” he said immediately. “We would have noticed. They’re disaster gays, Logan, they’d ask for help to get together, and Patton can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“You would notice, maybe, but I’m not sure if it would be so apparent to the rest of us. Still,” Logan adjusted his glasses, looking up at Virgil, “I am glad you came to me. I have had my own suspicions about those two, and it is gratifying to see them confirmed. Although, in the future, if you have a notebook’s worth of substantial evidence, you can generally consider your hypothesis correct.” He stood, holding out the evidence in question.

“Got it,” the anxious side nodded, taking the notebooks and making for the door. He slowed, turning back. “Hey, Logan?”

“Yes, Virgil?”

“What… what do we do? I mean, they’ve been pining after each other for weeks now, probably longer. Shouldn’t we do something?”

Logan sighed. “I’m not sure there’s much we can do. Until they decide to consult one of us, or Remus or Patton, I suppose we should let them figure things out on their own.”

“Yeah, that’s probably best,” he agreed, opening the door. “Bye, L.”

“Good night, Virgil,” Logan said, returning to his desk.

But what if they don’t do anything? the emo side wondered as he hurried down the hall, headphones on and MCR blasting in his ears. Those two are emotionally-stunted idiots!

Later, in his room, Virgil would decide that Logan was right. It wasn’t his business, anyways, and he had other work to do, like ensuring Thomas didn’t make an utter fool out of himself on social media.

Thus it was Patton who learned of the budding relationship last, ironically. In Morality’s defense, however, he had noticed that Deceit and Roman were growing close, and had simply brushed it off as the two sides learning to get along. He was glad, really, that Roman was escaping his habit of assuming villainy of the others, and that Dee was befriending the Creative side. It would be good for both of them.

So he didn’t learn of the two sides’ true feelings until Deceit came up to him one night. Roman and Remus were spending time together in the Imagination and Virgil and Logan were playing chess in the living room, and with the others thus distracted he had quietly asked if he could talk to Patton for a minute.

He agreed, of course, and followed Dee to the front steps of the house which manifested in the Mindscape. Virgil often warned them not to leave the steps, so both sides were careful to stay put. (“It’s dangerous, okay, Pat?” he’d snapped one night when pressed a bit too far. After calming down and apologizing, he’d continued “Think of it like this, okay? Thomas’ conscious mind manifests, at least for us, like a home to live in. But outside of the conscious mind, or the home, we don’t have as much power. You could fall into the subconscious, or accidentally affect him, or worse. Just… It’s in all of our best interests if we stay where it’s safe.”)

“What did you want to talk about, kiddo?” Patton asked after both had settled comfortably, noting how Deceit was nervously twisting his hat in his gloved hands. “Is everything okay?”

“What if I didn’t want to ask someone out?” the snake-like side asked, looking anywhere but at Patton. “How would I do it?”

He squealed. Loudly. Dee looked slightly pained, but put up with Patton grabbing his shoulders and exclaiming “You like someone? Aw, that’s adorable! Who? Or, well, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine too, this is just so cute!”

Deceit turned bright red, messing with a friendship bracelet on his wrist.

Patton was no idiot. He wasn’t the most book-smart of individuals, admittedly, but he was remarkably perceptive when it came to emotions, and surprisingly skilled at logical deduction. But, being representative of Thomas’ Morality, he disliked making assumptions, and preferred to wait for actual information. (“After all,” he’d chirp, after having lost his fifth consecutive game of Clue because he’d waited too long to Accuse, “to assume makes an a-word out of u and me!”)

Presented with enough evidence, however, the puzzle pieces instantly clicked for him. Roman had made friendship bracelets for everyone a few months ago for Christmas, because he enjoyed the craft, and Patton recognized the specific gold thread he’d used in each of the presents woven between the red and yellow strands. And hadn’t Dee and Roman been spending more time together lately? And hadn’t Virgil and Logan been giving each other weird looks whenever they saw them together all week?

“You like Roman?” Patton realized, eyes brightening. “That’s simply adderable!”

Dee snickered at the pun, nodding. “Yeah, I don’t like Roman. But I don’t know what to say to him, or how to bring it up, or if he even likes me back, so I thought I’d ask you.”

“Me?” asked Morality, touched. “Why, kiddo?”

“You control a lot of Thomas’ feelings, you’ve said so yourself. And I am good at this relationship stuff, and you are, so it was the logical conclusion.” He rolled his eyes. “Listen to me, ‘logical conclusion’. Logan would be proud.”

“Well, I’d be happy to help!” he exclaimed, grinning. Checking his watch, he stood. “I’ll tell you what, though, it’s almost time for dinner. So let’s go inside and eat with everything else, and we can talk tomorrow? That’ll also give me some time to come up with ideas, of course.”

“Sure,” Dee nodded, smiling. “That wouldn’t be great, Patton.”

“Of course!”

Later that night, the center of Thomas’ feelings woke up in the middle of the night to see Remus, hanging above his bed from the ceiling like a bat. He started to scream, but the chaotic half of Creativity clamped his hand over Patton’s mouth. “Heya, Patty-batty-chatty-cakes!” he chirped.

He gently pulled the hand away from his mouth. “Remus,” he said, fumbling for his glasses, “bud, it’s really, really late. What’re you still doing up?”

“You’ll never guess what Ro-Ro told me four hours ago!” the other side grinned, turning so he was sitting cross-legged at the end of Patton’s bed. “He has a crush! On slimy-boi!”

“Deceit isn’t actually slimy, Remus, you know that,” Morality chided him automatically, before his eyes widened. “Wait, Dee likes Roman!”

“I know!” giggled Remus. “It’s as perfect as a unicorn being turned into mashed potatoes for a princess’ birthday dinner!”

Patton ignored that last comment for the sake of his tenuous sanity. “Well, we have to get them together, then!” he beamed, holding out his hand for Remus to high-five. “Let’s team up to make sure they finally get together!”

Remus licked his palm, before slapping it against Patton’s. “Yay, Team Get-Those-Gays-Laid!” he exclaimed.

“...We’ll work on the name,” he decided. “Now, we’d better both go to bed, okay? Or else we might disrupt Thomas’ sleep schedule.”

Remus nodded, chirping “Bye, Pat-a-dat-a-ding-dong!” before grinning, and, like the Cheshire Cat, fading away. It took a solid minute for his teeth to finally vanish.

Still, Patton couldn’t sleep. He was just so excited!

It had been two weeks since Patton and Remus had formed their team, which, despite its constantly fluctuating name, appeared to be going strong. They had been coaching both Deceit and Roman, respectively, had made lists of their corresponding interests and dislikes, and had been working day and night (much to Logan’s annoyance). All in all, it was going well.

“But they aren’t doing anything,” Virgil groaned, as he placed down a blue three. “I know they’re trying, but it would be great if Team Whatever-Their-Name-Is-Now had actually done something already!”

“Last I knew, they were titled Team ‘Sparkle Cat Boy and Stinky Trash Rat Make A Snake Kiss A Prince, Hopefully Before We Die Of Old Age’ by you, Virgil,” Logan replied, topping it with a blue reverse card. (Much to his chagrin. As there were only two of them, Logan had argued that they ought to remove the reverse cards entirely. Virgil had insisted that they keep them in.) “And remember, we decided to not get involved? If they wanted our help, they would have asked for it.”

“You’re right,” Anxiety nodded after a beat. “We shouldn’t do anything. If Pat and Re need help, they’ll ask. Same goes for Roman and Dee.”

“Definitely.”

“Absolutely.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“It’s the logical course of action.”

“As I am Logic, it would be foolish not to stay as we are.”

“Yeah. They can handle it on their own.”

Logan hesitated. “But, knowing the four of them, will they be able to handle it effectively?”

“...No,” Virgil sighed, adding a plus four card. “Uh, red. Take four. Well, what can we do about it?”

“They won’t want us involved, of course. None of them know that we have any idea of what’s going on,” he mused, taking his cards. “My turn is skipped, so go ahead. Perhaps we should simply push them in the right direction. Do you know what they’re planning so far?”

“Pat and Remus have decided that they’re going to trick them into going on a date in the Imagination. They’re going to have Remus get those two oblivious lovebirds to enter Roman’s room while Patton finishes “making a place for them to confess their undying love”, direct quote from Pat.” Virgil placed a red six. “Uno.”

“But Patton is not skilled at manipulating the Imagination,” Logan protested, frowning, as he put down a blue six in turn. “How do they expect him to do it?”

“Wait, he isn't?” the anxious side said, startled. “I thought he’d be the most likely to be able to control it out of any of the rest of us -- it’s just feelings and dreams, right?”

“Not entirely. Yes, feelings and dreams and happiness and all that is needed, but also a knowledge of structure, of depth, of space, and that’s just the basics. Roman has often mentioned his creations are best when he can root them in science, or concepts he knows a lot about. It makes Patton and I both quite inept at its manipulation.” He frowned. “But of course they cannot have Remus do it…”

“Then what do we do?” asked Virgil, the singular card in his hand seemingly forgotten.

There was silence for a moment, before Logan’s eyes brightened. “Aren’t you always imagining those scenarios of things going wrong? To better protect Thomas?”

“Well, yeah,” he nodded hesitantly, “but that’s also kind of counterproductive for a date, Logan.”

“But to go wrong, it has to begin from an ideal point, one where things were right!” grinned Logic. “What if that was what we did? We pretend to spot Patton entering Roman’s room, and offer him our services when he cannot create what he wishes. You imagine it, and I relieve your anxiety before anything malicious can occur, thus fixing the problem!”

“What about Remus?” challenged Virgil, though his eyes had brightened with hope. “Do we really want him being the one to get Deceit and Roman, come up with a valid excuse for them to spend time together in the Imagination, and then trust him not to do something vulgar or disgusting?”

“Perhaps we drop hints for the next few days that preparing something ahead of time is better than doing it at the spur of the moment,” Logan mused. “Hopefully, it will influence Thomas enough that Patton is affected, and decides to create the environment in the Imagination ahead of time, making him the one to bring them there.”

“This plan still has major flaws,” Virgil grumbled, but sighed, eyes filling with a sort of brazen determination rarely seen in the embodiment of anxiety. “But let’s do it.”

“Agreed,” he smiled.

“Oh, by the way, I win,” he added, dropping his Wild card onto the pile. “I always save one, just in case. You know that, Logan, come on.”

“I do now,” Logic nodded, but he couldn’t stop a smile from creeping onto his face. “Good game, Virgil.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, before his face fell. “Oh no, do we need one of those stupid team names now?”

“I think not,” decided Logan, rolling his eyes. “Besides, we both know they make you too conspicuous. We figured out that Patton and Remus had teamed up because they kept whispering about their team name and making ‘team puns’.”

“True,” laughed Virgil. “Alright, Team Without-A-Team-Name, let’s manipulate our friends to set up our other idiotic gay friends.”

“Don’t phrase it like that,” he said automatically, before looking up, appalled. “And we said no name!”

Virgil was still laughing as he sunk out.

It wasn’t much of a surprise that their plan worked perfectly. Remus was employed to distract Deceit and Roman by leading them on a wild goose chase (literally) through his half of the Imagination after lunch, while Patton transformed the part of the realm that usually appeared as Roman’s room, exactly two hours before he would have to go find the lying and creative sides.

Patton was panicking. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t make it work right! All of his ideas, as beautiful and dreamy as they were, quickly became unsubstantial and appeared like blobs of paint. But he couldn’t ask Remus for help, or else Dee and Roman would end up having their date in a swamp, chased by a man-eating kraken!

“Patton?” came a familiar voice from the door, and he turned to see Logan standing there, Virgil peering around his shoulder. “Is everything alright? We noticed you entering Roman’s room. I thought he was out with Deceit and the Duke?”

“Oh, hey kiddos!” Patton exclaimed, trying for a cheerful smile but (judging from the sympathetic looks on both of their faces) not entirely succeeding. “I was hoping to make a surprise for Dee and Ro, but… As you can see, it isn’t going very well.” He stared sadly at what he had hoped would be a rose bush (“Yellow and red!” Remus had told him, oddly insistent) that instead looked like a green background to a trypophobic nightmare.

“Well, that does make sense. Neither you nor I are particularly good at such things, Patton; we don’t have enough balance between feelings and knowledge to produce them.” Logan hesitated, glancing at Virgil, who was crouching and staring at Patton’s attempt at a cat. “Perhaps Virgil could aid you, if he is so willing.”

“What?” asked the side in question, that had gathered the wispy brown mist into his arms and was stroking it gently, causing a faint sound (almost like a purr, but not quite) to ripple through the Imagination.

Logan cleared his throat, seemingly flustered, as Patton internally squealed because it was just too cute. “I said, ‘Perhaps Virgil could aid you, if he is so willing.’”

His eyes widened, cheeks reddening, as he cautiously put down the cat. “Uh sure. Yeah. Um… Paternal figure, if you tell me what to do, I can probably do it, as long as Logan makes sure I don’t ruin it.”

Logan rolled his eyes as Patton giggled. “Don’t talk bad about yourself, kiddo,” he warned, momentarily frowning, before he brightened again. “But anyways, that would be really helpful!”

“Okay. Whenever you’re ready,” Virgil said, still holding the misty cat, although its fur had changed to a soft grey.

“Alright, so I was thinking a sort of forest at dusk, maybe? And a path through it, all lit up with pretty lanterns with little candles inside, coming from the door to a clearing.” He paused, watching the trees grow around him, the sun begin to set, the cast-iron lanterns growing and hanging themselves from branches, candles inside flickering merrily. “Oh! And maybe faeries, like the ones from Legend of Zelda, little spots of light? Those would be pretty everywhere. Plenty of animals, too, but no creepy-crawlies, and a couple harmless snakes.”

At this point, Logan lay a hand on Virgil’s arm, the snakes (that had begun to grow long fangs dripping with venom) writhing in the grass. “Breathe, Virgil. You can do this.”

The anxious side nodded, and the animals in question shrunk, till they were small, harmless corn snakes that quickly slithered away.

“Lots of flowers and plants everywhere,” Patton continued with a smile, “and especially rose bushes, with red and yellow roses. And then in the clearing…

“Make it flat, so there are no bumps, but plenty of grass! And a big checkered picnic blanket off to one side, right underneath a cherry tree, a flowering one, where the petals don’t fall too often -- just occasionally? An apple tree here or there, maybe some pears. And I brought some food for them.” He pulled a big picnic basket out from behind him, placing it gently in the center of the blanket.

“It looks ideal. I’m sure Deceit and Roman will confess in no time,” Logan nodded, pleased.

“I certainly hope so!” Patton chirped, before his eyes widened. “Hey, how’d you know that?”

“...Context clues,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses, as Virgil snorted. The cat in his lap, which was now black with big yellow eyes, and far more defined, purred loudly.

“It looks great, Pat,” Virgil said, standing, his new friend still held firmly in his grasp. Patton sneezed, and he tossed him his allergy medication without even thinking about it, as he was wont to do. (It had been Anxiety, strangely, that had taken the motherly role among the sides. Remus found it hilarious.) “Good luck.”

“Thank you so much, Virgil!” he exclaimed, catching the smaller side into a bear hug. “I never would have been able to do it without you!”

“Y-You’re welcome,” he stuttered, face pink. “Take your meds, you’re already sneezing. C’mon Logan let’s go--”

Hurriedly, the anxious side pulled them out of the Imagination, sinking out to the living room.

“It really did look good, Virgil,” Logan remarked after a beat, noting how the cat had escaped the Imagination with them, and was now stretching, kneading its paws into the rug. “You did an excellent job.”

“Now we just have to see if it works,” he muttered, pulling a board out from under the television. “Monopoly?”

“Ro! Dee!”

The two sides turned, spotting Patton running towards them. “Patton?” Roman asked, lowering the balloon sword Remus had given him at the start of their adventure.

“Hey, kiddo! Um… there have been some weird noises coming from your room, and I was starting to get a little worried,” the feelings-based side explained, coming to a stop, panting. “Do you have any idea what’s happening?”

“I’m afraid I don’t,” Roman frowned, summoning his actual sword. “I had best go investigate!”

“I had better not come with you,” Dee told him, adjusting his hat. “If something is actually wrong, I can provide backup.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea!” Patton nodded furiously.

“Shouldn’t we say goodbye to Remus?” asked Roman as Patton ushered the two sides out of the darker half of the Imagination and into the hallway.

“Nope!” called the side in question, popping up out of the dirt. “Go get laid, Ro!”

...It was probably good, all things considered, that Patton had already closed the door by then.

“I don’t hear anything odd,” Roman said, ear pressed to the door. “Do you, Dee?”

“I do,” he shook his head.

“Patton, are you sure you heard--” he straightened, looking around. “Patton?”

“Well, that’s not ominous at all,” Dee remarked, sarcasm dripping through his voice. “We’d better go in.”

“Shouldn’t we find Patton first?” Thomas’ Creativity asked, perturbed.

“He probably got distracted, you don’t know him,” sighed Deceit. “And he didn’t ask us to check on what was going on.”

“True,” nodded Roman, and with that, opened the door.

Time in Roman’s realm hadn’t changed since Virgil had altered it, so it was into that magical moment just between sunset and night that the two sides walked. They looked around, eyes wide, Roman admiring the plants, Deceit cooing at every animal he could find. The path was like something out of a story. One of the tiny faeries landed Deceit’s finger, and Roman, looking over, half thought that the other side’s eyes were going to pop out of his head, with how stunned he looked.

The clearing was beautiful too, and both were enraptured by their surroundings as they sat on the blanket.

“It isn’t so beautiful,” Deceit said softly after a long, peaceful silence, glancing over at Roman.

“It is,” he agreed, looking at him in turn. The meeting of their eyes seemed to fluster them both, as they simultaneously turned red and focused on the basket between them.

It took awhile for the awkwardness to be over (the duration it took for them each to consume the sandwiches that Patton had packed, specifically) but finally Roman, lying on his back and observing the first stars of the night that had begun to peek through the trees, said “So, we should probably talk.”

“I suppose we should,” Dee nodded, turning to face him. At some point, his hat and gloves had been taken off, and there was a small corn snake, only a baby, really, nestled in his curls.

“How did you have time to sneak in here and make this?” inquired Roman, after neither of them said a word. “I was with you the whole day!”

“Wait, I did make this,” Dee told him, before scowling in concentration. “I didn’t make this, I mean. I thought you did!”

“No, I haven’t been in the Imagination since a little before lunch, and then it was just my room,” he frowned.

“Well, why would it turn into this while you weren’t there?” Dee asked, looking around. “I mean, it clearly isn’t for the both of us -- could you be any more blatant with the roses?”

“I don’t know,” Roman admitted, but he sighed, then. “Or… I do. I just didn’t think it would get this out of hand.”

“What wouldn’t get this out of hand?” It must be acknowledged that despite his best efforts, Deceit was having trouble mustering enough concentration to focus on speaking the truth. (Not while Roman was right next to him, weaving together flower crowns from the roses, the warm light from the lanterns making his face glow.)

“A few months ago, I realized that I… have feelings for you, Dee. In a not entirely platonic sense.” His face was as red as the flowers still in his hands, but Roman hurried on, “It appears that the Imagination has been affected by those feelings a great deal more than I suspected.”

“You don’t like me?” the other side asked, Deceit’s voice small as he stared at him.

“I do,” confessed Creativity, sitting up, placing the two finished crowns beside him. “And I would never want to force you to reciprocate those feelings, but I thought… You ought to know. You probably would have figured it out yourself, after this, anyway.”

“You wouldn’t be forcing me to reciprocate those feelings,” Dee told him after a beat, nails digging into his palms because he had to concentrate, to be honest. “I… I don-- I like you too, Roman. Not platonically.”

“You do?” he asked, and he looked so shocked, so confused, that it almost broke Deceit’s heart.

“I do,” he nodded, and he could feel a grin breaking out across his face. “And you don’t -- I mean, you do too.”

“Can I kiss you?” Roman asked, because of course he did, because he was always a perfect gentleman, even to Dee.

It wasn’t fireworks or rainbows or flames of passion, not really. It was more like coming home, the sense of two halves of the same whole slotting into place, connecting for the first time.

When they came out of the Imagination, each wearing flower crowns of red and yellow roses, holding hands tightly, Virgil and Logan grinned tiredly at each other. They had long ago finished Monopoly, and had moved on to sitting on the sofa, wrapped in blankets. Patton had fallen asleep beside them, head in Virgil’s lap, and Remus was snoring from under the couch. (Virgil had been kind enough to abandon his perch on top of the cushions for Patton, or else it would have been very uncomfortable for the both of them.)

“You arranged this, didn’t you,” deadpanned Dee, after taking one look at the smirk on Virgil’s face.

“Patton and Remus are currently unaware that we -- how did you phrase it, Virgil? Oh, yes, masterminded the entire thing. As far as they know, we were only minorly involved,” Logan told them quietly, moving over so the two sides could sit together beside him on the couch. “I would appreciate it if you did not inform them. Congratulations on finally acknowledging your feelings for each other.”

“Good job,” said the anxious side succinctly, clearly already half asleep and ready to pass out now that his work was finished. “Hey, Dee, guess what? I did the roses. I made allllllll of the roses.”

“You did the entirety of the creation, Virgil, and you did so wonderfully,” Logan informed him, patting him on the head awkwardly. “Now… rest, please.”

“Thank you,” Roman told them both quietly, his hand warm on Dee’s. They’d left his gloves and hat in the Imagination, but they could always fetch them later. Besides, Roman liked holding hands. “We’ll thank Patton and Remus in the morning, too, but… Thank you.”

“Of course,” Logic nodded, smiling at them. “I believe there are blankets on the chair that Patton insisted we leave out for you should you wish to sleep here on the couch with us tonight.”

“I think we won’t,” Dee told him, standing to grab said blankets.

They fell asleep that night all curled up together, these six sides of Thomas Sanders. When they woke up the next morning and Patton cooed over the flower crowns and Remus made vulgar jokes at them, when Virgil grumbled at them good-naturedly and Logan, the only one ever truly awake in the mornings, made breakfast, they would thank them. The crowns would eventually go on shelves, first in their individual bedrooms and then, when they moved in together, on a singular shelf just above their bed.

They would have their spats, as lovers do, and they would make up. They would have adventures, would create a garden all their own, would pet Virgil’s cat (which he titled Wisp) as they ate breakfast together, would eventually tell Thomas and his viewers. They would have a future together.

But not yet. For now, they slept.

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handlewithkara · 5 years

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@leighlew3

You say that as if that isn’t something Kara does consistently for people. And was that the same episode where Kara, after watching Lena die and hearing about Lena being twisted to evil rather than a) rushing to Lena to see that she’s okay or b) immediately starting to plot to getting Lena away from the people who might hurt and twist her instead went with c) telling Lena that she was done with her bullshit.

And after doing that did Kara a) collapse on the floor horrified that she had to call Lena a villain or b) go home to hang with Alex and J’onn and joke about candy left by Myxy?

I for one think Melissa Benoist is a professional, who tries to create powerful moments even with bullshit material. If you told her to act in love with a tree stump, she would portray that. I don’t think that she has any secret agenda to tank or favor a pairing. => I think she was asked to portray “in love with Mon-El”. I think she did this to the best of her abilities. IMO it is beyond me how anybody could look at her performance in 2x22 where Kara sobs as Mon-El’s pod is leaving or her breakdown at the thought of Mon-El dying in 3x02 and somehow think that she was somehow NOT bringing her A-Game. As such I do think that “how Kara acted with Mon-El” being a good measuring stick for “how Melissa portrays Kara in love”. And that included tons of things like jealousy, like acting nervous and awkward, and tons and tons of little physical fuzzing around (again compare Kara standing two feet away when Lena got poisoned in s3 to Kara always being all hands over Mon-El when he was being poisoned)

I also remember that when Mon-El was gone, she acted pretty much every episode till he returned with an undertone of melancholia even happy moments like seeing the recital of little girls dressed as Supergirl => but then again she also had the backing of the writing then for just that.

I don’t see this kind of melancholia for Lena in the episodes after Kara told Lena off. I’m sure eventually Lena will show up again and Kara will again try to get her to not be evil. Because that’s what Kara does. She takes care of her friends (as we just saw with Nia) and she tries to stop ppl from being evil even the less deserving like Rhea or Livewire.

Sure, the next episode could come around and retcon that and tell us that Kara has been suffering, but I don’t see that in her performance (for example in the scene where she is psyched that Dreamer took down a Dominator).

The reason I bring him up is because

1.) You people bring him up by comparing William to him

2.) Because you people misrepresent how Karamel came to be

You act like Alex somehow mind-controlled Kara into dating Mon-El and now William. What I’m pointing out is that this is just not true. Lenastans have always claimed that Kara having an interest in Mon-El came somehow out of the blue after Alex brought up the option, but that just FLAT OUT ISN’T TRUE.

For starters, the first time the topic was brought up it was Eliza and she told Kara that Mon-El liked Kara (not that Kara liked Mon-El back). And what was Kara’s reaction? First laughter, then blushed cheeks, then the camera gazes lovingly at Mon-El on her behalf at how handsome he looks. What does Kara then do with this information? She asks Mon-El whether it is true. But Mon-El denies it and says something dickish. He then collapses and she fuzzes over him. He then kisses her while sick. She leans into the kiss, closes her eyes and opens her mouth before it happens. She later wants to quizz him about the kiss and he denies remembering it, she bites her lips furiously (twice!) and looks upset as she walks away.

===> Come one, if this was for a ship you like, you would have no problem identifying that Kara might, just might have been interested in Mon-El before Alex said just that to her. (aka Kara’s beloved sister correctly identifying Kara’s behavior)

==> I wouldn’t have to keep talking about Mon-El if you guys didn’t keep up saying things about him and how Karamel came to pass that flat out aren’t true.

It boggles my mind how you can claim that “Kara took a long time to warm up to Mon-El” when Kara and Mon-El were sleeping and living together after half a season (and again, Kara almost instantly drafted Mon-El into her home and her job), yet it took Kara three years to let Lena in on her secret. How long did it take for Lena to show up at game night versus how long did it take Mon-El or Wiliam?

Again, Kara was positively smiling at the date suggestion before Winn or Alex brought it up. Characters talking to a character about their feelings is a popular short hand, not a sign that a person is being pushed into a relationship. Kara is not some automaton who can forced into sleeping with Mon-El, enjoying it, having a relationship with him, declaring her love for him just because at some point Alex said something. Just like now she’s a grown woman who can decide for herself whether William is something she wants to pursue or not (especially since we know that Kara can go against Alex advice, a season 1 callback btw).

Sure you can point out that it’s a lazy writing trick for a character to discuss their feelings with other supporting characters and thusly explaining the character dynamics for “the stupid people in the back”, but you know, Supergirl isn’t exactly high literature. And be honest, how long would have I have to look till I find Lenastan fanfics where third party people notice feelings being there or even scheme to get them together? It’s a trope. Doesn’t mean that the show wasn’t dropping plenty of hints that Kara had a thing for Mon-El long before third party characters spelled it out for the audience that that was going on.

Again ship what you want, but don’t LIE about other ships and characters, especially not while not using the anti tags, without expecting to be called out on it. (I was browsing the William Dey tag)

You genuinely think that the chance of a relationship turning out badly because somebody sent a couple of overenthusiastic texts is higher than hooking up with a person who SHOT AT YOU? And who LOCKED YOU IN A CAGE SO THEY COULD STEAL FROM YOU?

You do realize that “did it because of a betrayal” is probably like 90% of the excuses made by people who murder their spouse for cheating on them? Aka the LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO argument? “X betrayed me”, “X provoked me” are NOT excuses for violence. And note how “but poor X had a bad childhood, he can’t help himself” is exactly the kind of excuse abused people make for their violent spouses? But WILLIAM is the one who is too horrible to have a relationship with and who would send a bad message as opposed to “Lena attacks Kara physically and gets rewarded with romance, isn’t it ROMANTIC and so EMOTIONAL how violent and destructive she becomes over Kara betraying her, clearly this was proof of deep love”?

Again, ship what you ship, but don’t start the conversation on how other ships are morally inferior especially when it’s just a big fat case of pot calling the kettle.

=> ship and let ship is the way to go, but that’s the whole thing, saying that William x Kara is toxic and a bad message and that he is just as “problematic” as Mon-El (again, in the William Dey tag!) is NOT letting other people ship what they want, it’s passing judgment and trying to make them look bad.

#karamel #William Dey #supergirl #anti lena luthor

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gunmetalgrey-trashpile · 4 years

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medical draaaaaama with @consultingsister

SEVERIN

Severin Moran was supposed to be a doctor. He was supposed to be helping people. Five years of schooling, two years in the army, one treating frontline patients in crisis points to... being benched behind a desk to run budgets for each department, trying it squeeze pennies here and there just to make ends meet. He got to see a handful of patients, if any. Coming home was supposed to be more than this. He missed A&E more than he could possibly admit, and right now it was weighing on his shoulders more than usual. He used to have full faith in people. In her specifically. Cecelia Holmes was respected, brilliant and a once in a generation surgeon but adjusting the life support of a patient was… grounds for termination. Not to mention her being struck off.  The pager had practically vibrated off of his desk.

Crash on London Bridge, three casualties, multiple passers by injured. Once dead on the scene. He wore scrubs constantly, just in case for the awful moments like this when he had to sprint down to the first floor and prove himself. The son had made it into triage by the time he arrived, the second and third casualties still under assessment when the daughter began to code. The head of the emergency room should have handled it, but he was closer. He was the official call in this moment. John Watson grabbed the shock cart, more people moving around them to try and support the situation. He ignored the two Sebastian Morans at the emergency room doors, everything else melted into he background.

Third shock, almost twenty full minutes of chest compression and he absolutely refused to call it. He kept going, the muscles in his arms burning but he couldn’t give it up. Long enough for someone to page Cecelia. He didn’t even notice in the fray, he was too focused on the patient. Early twenties, brown matted hair, heavy streaked eyeliner and-

The ringing of the heart monitor and the call of the alarms meant nothing. He had to keep going.

CECELIA

Celia loved a panic. It was sick, she knew but she also knew that almost every doctor on the floor felt the same, whether they admitted it or not. It was a time to prove yourself; it make your heart best like nothing else on the earth. And Cee was riding high. She had been in with of the first casualty; the medics were ready to call it but she met them all the door. While male, thirty-two, glass shards making their way to his heart.

It was almost too easy; she didn’t even need to bring him into surgery.

It was odd to see Celia on the floor in scrubs. It was almost like it’s own alarm bell. Cecelia Holmes has taken off her heels, run for cover. A car crash was also a wonderful distraction from thinking too much about what Sev was going to do. Which weighed more? His love for her or his moral code. Cee used to love that he was a good person, unwavering in it, but now it felt like another roadblock to her success.

She was in between check ups when she got the page. A small gathering at the door, as if there wasn’t anything better to look at. She didn’t need the whispered explanation from Nurse Emma. She could see it in his face, sweat dripping from his forehead. Twenty minutes in. There was nothing left to save. “Clear the room,” she barked. Then her voice softened. “Severin...” her eyes flash to John, then to the two nurses who remained. Down with the ship, she guesses. “Sev.”

A little firmer, she tries again, this time reaching for his shoulder. “Doctor Moran. You have to call time of death. There is nothing you can do now. Step away, take a breath, call it.” She speaks as if it’s easy. “Sev.... you can stop now.” SEVERIN He didn't even hear her barking orders in an emergency room that wasn't hers to control. He simply kept on going. Saying his name wasn't going to pull him away from the job at hand, he had to help people, he had to do... something. Initially he leant backwards at the hand on his shoulder, letting himself be moved so carefully. But he didn't take a breath. He turned to face Cecelia, glassy eyed and hands still shaking with adrenaline. It was his call. And he couldn't save anyone. "Time..." He started out with his voice unsteady, swallowing before he could carry on. He puffed up his chest, his eyes momentarily dropping tot he floor before his brow tightened and all the fury was back in his body again. Severin brushed her hand away roughly, shoving past her to stand next to John. "Time of death 19:57."

He wasn't about to hang around for a lecture she had no right to give. What was she even doing there?

CECELIA

She wasn’t used to being at the receiving end of... what? His bad mood? Sounds a little flat. His hatred? She could hardly bear the thought. He was always sweet with her. Even after the baby, the weeks that bled into months where was cold, dismissive, sometimes outright cruel. He forgave and forgot. It wouldn’t be so simple this time.

She turned back to John but he stopped her, “I’ve got this. Go.”

“I owe you.” She moved quickly from the room. Second sign of an emergency; Cecelia Holmes running. “Doctor Moran.”

It still sounded funny in her mouth to call him doctor. Maybe she still saw him as the kid from her biology class; maybe that was the problem. Cee needed to adapt, needed to see him as a doctor, her boss. Only technically. “Doctor, can I please speak with you? Where are you going?”

SEVERIN

He didn’t stop. He just kept moving, waiting for her to follow him into a completely empty OR, not that he had planned it well. His pager wasn’t going off so he couldn’t claim to be urgently needed elsewhere, his anger and frustration piling on in heaps. He had been so good at staying calm and collected before he came back to work here. With her.

“Don’t.” He didn’t want to see her right now, let alone be forced to listen to stupid justification as to why his saviour complex got in the way of him actually doing his job. “You don’t get to lecture me on life and death, what the hell do you fucking know?”

Severin rallied, rounding on her with those icy eyes that gave away his inner turmoil. He was quiet, despite his rage. Enough so that nothing would carry back to a busy ER.

“You don’t get to speak with me, not now.”

CECELIA

“I know!” Cee wasn’t do adept at keeping her voice down. Sev’s anger was always icy when hers was fire. Hot, unstoppable; people were likely to get burnt. She pressed her lips together, trying to keep it together. “I know that the best thing I could have done for Jennier Ried was let her die on my table. Or, better yet, not have pushed for the surgery at all so she could have died at home, with her family, peacefully. But instead, because of my pride, I kept her alive when it was her time to go. And now she is a fucking vegetable, Sev! With her mother coming in every single fucking day. Losing a child is hard but this...”

She gave a growl of frustration, covering her face and turning away from him. She should tell him it was a mistake; a bad decision made at the end of a long shift. That she was grateful that he stopped her. Even if it was a lie. It was save her career, it would save their relationship.

Cee turned back, closing the space between them. “You weren’t saving that patient. They were gone Sev, you were trying to save yourself. Everyone in that room knew it.”

SEVERIN

"No. No the best thing you could have done was stick to letter of the law. There are rules Cecelia. You cannot make yourself the arbiter of life and death, although how would you know? It's not like you have ever had that control taken away from you." He snarled. There was hardly two feet between them.

He reached out for her shoulder, pulling her to face him again. No, she didn't get to do this.

"I don't need saving. I am fine, I'm the only sane one here."

Severin pushed her, heading straight for the doors of the OR as if he was ready to head straight back to work.

CECELIA

“You are drowning, Moran.”

She knows because she’s been there herself. She knows because putting him in the position to keep her secrets was as good as shoving him under the water. She moved past him quickly, leaning against the door. He could easily move her, she knew that, but she hoped it would be enough.

“You have been since you came back to London. Fighting with Bash, you’ve been short with interns. I have never seen you like this. I fucked up, I know that! I know I am making your life hard, but please, I can help. This can’t go on, Sev. It’s a race to see who you kill first; yourself or.a patient.”

SEVERIN

“I have to be fine, because I clearly can’t trust anyone. Look at you, I had total faith and you just...”

He stopped dead in his tracks, glaring her down completely. It was hilarious now how many times he could think he had hit breaking point only to realise there was still deeper he could sink to.

“How would you know? You shut me out. You didn’t care when things were at their worst, stop acting like you care now. It’s not going to change my mind, you pretending that there’s a second chance just to save your bloody career. You need to move.”

CECELIA

"Don't you dare, don't you fucking dare." Without meaning to, without even realising she was doing it, she shoved him. He was right that Cecelia didn't like losing control but she was wrong that she never did. "I have never ever cared more than when we lost--" her throat constrict.

"Yes, I shut you out afterwards but that was not because i did not care. I didn't know how to handle how much I cared, Sev. I lost your baby. And I could do nothing, say nothing to bring her back for you. But you left, you picked a war zone over staying with me."

She doesn't want to cry but she can feel the sharp stinging at the corner of her eyes. "I do care now, I cared then and I care now. Fire me, honestly, if that will lift a weight off your shoulders but you know I made good calls, nine out of ten times, I made a good call even if it's not textbook."

SEVERIN

Severin stepped backwards. This was hardly enough to break through to him, even with how much the admission had cost her emotionally. “Really? You put your career first, and always. Clearly above patients. Clearly above us, any chance there was here? It’s gone. Don’t question my calls, don’t undermine me in front of my staff. I am your boss. Remember that.”

He didn’t even want to hear it. “I left to do my god damn job, now step aside.”

CECELIA

"I am willing to lose my job to give a family some peace, Sev. How the hell is that putting my career first?" She knew her argument was weak. What Celia called colouring outside the lines most would call gross negligence. She stands taller against the door, bracing herself.

"No." Her hand wrapped around the door handle and she realised she might even be a little scared of him. Just last week she'd watched him subdue a drink man twice his size in A&E, he could throw her across the room if he wanted to.

SEVERIN

Head shaking, he stepped back again. He moved to the operating table, pressing his palms to it with a deep breath in order to press out some of the anger. He couldn’t do this right now. In a flash, he kicked out tossing a tray across the room in a clattering racket before huffing like an idiot.

His hands moved to his face, his fingers pressing into the flesh with the stress. “I need to get out there before they loose anyone else. Let me go.”

CECELIA

"You have not been paged, I have not been paged. You are not currently in a fit state to look to patients and I have no intention on letting you leave before you have calmed down."

She gripped onto the door handle tighter, trying not to shake. Strike that, she was a lot scared. She had jumped as the tray hit the floor but now moved forward, away from the door, pulling hands hand away from his face and replacing them with her own. "Look at me, look at me Sev. You cannot save everyone. Not everyone lives. Not my patient, not yours. Not the baby. Not Alex. But so many do live. So many people have gone on to live because of what you did for them. Me included Sev. I am only alive today because of you. You saved me. Let me help you, please."

SEVERIN

“What are you going to do for me, huh?” He pulled away again, pacing like a caged animal. He needed to be busy and just... not think. “How’s putting me in positions were there is no right choice going to help?!”

Severin hadn’t told a soul, and it was the very first time he had disobeyed his own moral code. There was flexibility when it came to the law and high pressure situations but not this.

“I can’t think straight around you. Sam is right, you get in my head. And you just...”

He stopped DEAD IN HIS TRACKS, closing his eyes to breathe in deep through his nose and out through his mouth slowly. “The last thing I want from you right now is whatever your idea of help is.”

CECELIA

“Jessica is brain dead and I am the best surgeon on your staff. You saw me with my hand on the switch, that’s it. There is a right choice.” She almost instantly regretted that. She was right, but it wouldn’t help. Cee moved towards him again.

“Sam is not right. After your punch up with Bash, who did you come see? You said it yourself, you sleep better in my bed. How can you tell me I don’t help?”

It’s a risky move but she stops him, hands back on his face, she kisses him. Hard and urgent, desperate to the through to him. “I love you, i love you. Don’t leave me. I love you.”

Even Cecelia isn’t sure what she is more panicked about; losing him or losing her job but the two seem connected now. It’s their fourth year all over again and her planned future is going down the drain. “I love you”.

SEVERIN

She was the best surgeon on his staff, that he couldn’t argue with. Largely because she took the risks no one else wanted to. It was infuriating that she could be so damn right all the time.

The kiss made him want to relent, forget the chaos going on around them and just kiss her back. Only it wasn’t that simple. Severin lingered longer than he should have, kissing her back with as much frustration and urgency as she had. He slept better in her head, he found life easier by her side but this hurt deeply. Not just her actions, but confronting him like trying to do his all was the wrong move.

“No- no. Don’t say that. Not now.” She knew the buttons she was pressing and this time around he wouldn’t play into her hands so easily. Severin pulled away, pulling her hands down from his face.

“You can’t love me when it’s convenient for you.”

CECELIA

The OR light bounced from the table and onto her face, reminisce of the lighting in black and white movies. She twisted her mouth and her eyes gleamed. She thought she had worked it out this time. Done the right maths. Right time, right place. They could make it work this time.

But he was still Sev and she was still Cee. Not enough had changed. Or everything had, she couldn't tell.

She opened her mouth but a incessant beeping from her waist band cut her off. Looking dow to her check her message, she sniffs. "Loving you... is absolutely never convenient for me. I just do it anyway." She looks into his face and smiles saddly. "We have to go. Second wave."

SEVERIN

Her pager beeped. His was completely silent. He didn’t break his concentration on her face, trying to understand where he should even be in this mess. If she had said those three little words at any other point then he’d be over the moon. The problem lay in the delay, that now apparently there was weight to them.

“Debrief me before you leave.” He still knew it was stupid to send her into surgery unsupervised be he really didn’t have a choice. “I have a family to call.”

CECELIA

"Sir yes sir." Her smile grew tight. How could he treat her like she was a liability? Her almost perfect track record of general surgery. Who else on her level had that?

The next five hours are a blur. Two minor procedures, one surgery, one shower. By the time she's found him in his office, she's out of scrubs and back in her power suit, heels on, ready for her own battle. She knocks, even though the door is open. "Did I ever tell you I applied for this job when you did? I mean--- thank god I didn't get it. It's sort of make you a dick." Her pleading tone is gone. She's pissed at him. It feels like he is holding her job over her head.

"I'm here you to tell you I didn't kill anyone today. Same as yesterday, same as the day before. I even managed to fit in a scheduled surgery, which brought int he hospital about... hm, ten thousand in billable hours, I think? I'm not an accountant, but I think that's my going rate."

SEVERIN

He should have stopped her. This wasn't about oversight, in fact, he was too invested in a family that had lost two members in one day- in spite of his attempt to help. He wanted to know that there was a chance the other two made it to the end of his shift.

Severin watched her move through the doors, and away from the emergency room. His first call was to Sam, to put him on the ground. Right now, the poor second would be starting his shift with a fresh mind and fresher hands. It was going to be easier on both of them.

He insisted on calling the relatives himself, trying to bury himself in the budget and not watch the hours tick by. He'd managed it, well, his eyelids were drooping as the knock on the door cut through his thoughts.

"Right." His steam had blown off entirely, calmer again. Almost rational. "That sounds about right. I've been running the numbers so I can believe it."

Severin stood up, hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets in a way that would seem achingly familiar. His head tilted awkwardly, charmingly. As if he had never lost his cool. "I think we need to talk, don't you?"

CECELIA

Cecelia paused in the doorway, stuck between an adult and telling him to suck it. However, in the best interests of her own career, she took off her coat and closed the door behind her.

She wishes she had something smart to say, she seems to for everything else but all she can think to say is... you look tired. She wants to take him into leaving with her, maybe even taking some holiday time like normal people. "I meant everything I said before but I can't-- I cannot lose my job Sev. St Thomas' would never sign off on you letting me go so you'd have to have me struck off. Are you seriously considering that?"

SEVERIN

He leant against his desk, propping himself up.

"Just -listen." He raised a hand, trying to get her to give him time. Tired was one way to put it. Total and complete exhaustion was another.

"We've been fighting, in one way or another since I go here. I'm not saying I didn't deserve some of it, but somewhere along the line- we made a good team." Late night study sessions right up to trial parenting. There was nothing they couldn't do, as long as the did it together. Maybe in the months of moving around each other, he'd lost sight of what the real goal was.

"I need to trust you to work with me. You love me, then you know I've only ever got your best interest. And the patients, because there's a situation where the two aren't exclusive." This was the biggest risk of his career, and maybe more. What other alternative was there? He couldn't report her, it was just not going to happen. "I am not going anywhere alright? I love you, but don't use it against me."

CECELIA

A weight lifts. The sky clears. She moved to the door and back to the desk; he’s not going to tell! She should be more sorry, more solemn but she can’t help but. She wants to shout out! She’s keeping her job!

“Yes, I promise. I love you, I really do.” She covers her face with her hands to hide her grin. They’re parents, of course he wasn’t going to let her go. She stares at him for a moment and then laughs, a mister of relief and something else.

“Look at you... behind a desk... pushing papers and working out budgets. That’s... that’s sick.” No wonder he is losing his mind.

SEVERIN

The relief was palpable, but he wasn't finished. "Wait. It's not that simple. Brain dead or otherwise, that's never your call to make. This ever happens again, I'm reporting us both. I can't let you do that Cee. I'm not asking you to be sorry, but I am asking you to promise me that will never, ever happen in my operating rooms again. Am I clear?"

He kept his voice steady, his posture loose. He was very much pulling the boss card, but trying to make it look like there was something more than work that was driving him. This was a huge mistake, the issue was that that the alternative didn't bare thinking about.

"Pays well. Paperwork or CPR, that's what I seem t have signed up for." His blonde hair was growing lighter around the sides, his laughter lines deeper in the dim evening light as it shifted into the early hours of the morning. Just because he wore his weariness well didn't make it any less obvious.

"Starting to see why the job was so available. Poor Lelia, I'm pretty sure she's reserved a bed in the psych ward for the day I finally push her over the edge."

CECELIA

"I promise I will never put you through this again. Ever. With anything." It wasn't a lie, per se, but it wouldn't have made it harder to say even if it was. She would say anything she needed to, as long as he allowed her to cut. To heal someone more optimistic might say. But she would be careful. She would make good, by the book decisions, for a couple months and she wouldn't allow herself ot be in the position again of having a brain dead patient.

She moved around his desk, pulling his arms around her. "You're very clear. And you're very bossy. You're right, I need to stop seeing you as my study-buddy and start seeing you as my boss. Only technically," she allows another grin to grow on her rep lips. "And only when we're here."

Cee wished she couldn't hear the little voice in her head, the wicked nagging little sound that she was sure she inherited from her father. You've got him wrapped around your finger, you're safe now, clever you. It wasn't fair. This wasn't planned. She wasn't going to take advantage of this, of him. She could be better with him.

"I think we're all going going there eventually. Or to hell, I don't know which I'd prefer."

SEVERIN

It wasn’t lost on him that her career was the only constant in her life. She had used it as ammunition to push him away, her only real defiance against her father. When they had pulled apart, she had sought refuge in it. If it came down to a choice...

Severin let himself be moved into holding her, even if it wasn’t exactly what he wanted right now. It was impossible to read her, and even worst to be stuck second guessing her motivations. Of course this was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

“Makes a change, doesn’t it?” He pressed his forehead against hers with a heavy sigh. “Don’t know either. Depends how much paperwork there is in hell. It’s bad excel has me missing Helmand, right?”

He moved back for peace and quiet, and yet in the year he had been here it has been anything but. Constant battles with family, with the board, with Sam.. he was a very different person to the easy going doctor that had agreed to the position. How could helping people twist him up like this?

“I think it’s safe to say today wasn’t subtle. And that I owe John and apology for acting like a prat in his emergency room.”

CECELIA

As his forehead lent against hers, she knew she was safe. Maybe for the rest of her career. It was an accident, in fact she had ever intention of not going near Severin Moran ever again but--

"These things happen." She lifted her chin to kiss his head and then leant against him again. "I've seen John lose it with interns more times than I can count. Even doctors have bad days and A&E seems to get the brunt of it." Even she, infallible Cecelia, had lost her cool once or twice.

"We should get away-- oh, we should go to Italy! Take a whole week off, forget this place even exists. No beepers, no excel, no Bash or Seb!" She gives a little giggle. "Come on, boss."

SEVERIN

It was torture to know he hadn't even finished for the day. He also wanted to head to the ICU, check on the family himself since she didn't seem to have any news. Severin softened further, the tension in his shoulders dropping at her gentle kiss in a way that showed at leas the physical stress had left his body. She was right. A&E was always where tensions were highest, he knew that from his own experience. If that had been his department back in Bristol though he would want to have a chat and make sure all was fine. Maybe he could grab a pint... if it wasn't nearly 2am again. One day he would leave here at a reasonable hour.

"We should." A trip back to paradise would be a welcome break. Maybe if he did a trade off, left Sam for a week and gave him a week in return... "I think that would be perfect. I've got another half hour, you should head home. No point waiting for me, I'm going to be awful company..."

He'd still head back to her flat, slip in quietly and close his eyes for a few hours. Better than the mattress on the floor and empty fridge he was living with in Bermondsey.

#discord thread 005 | cee and sev drama #v; ⋱ science and progress ⋰ ⦙ |*| ( angsters anatomy au )#the golden boy | (severin)#consultingsister #death tw #injury tw #medical tw #medicine tw #blood tw #idk this is medical drama content ok pls just be aware it's all nonsense with science

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wonderwomanfantasy · 5 years

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Sins of Mortals part seven

taking calculus was a mistake I am so tired anyway here is some trash for you all to enjoy.

Sins of Mortals master list

Slytherin! Reader x Sirius Black

word count: 1,600 (sorry for the short update)

warnings: platonic kissing (you’ll see just trust me), slow-burn, swearing

summary: you didn’t like the idea of kissing Sirius, especially considering the fact you had never been kissed before, but what else were you supposed to do? have sex with the sex demon?

you rolled your eyes at him and sat down on one of the beds. The dormitory was neater then you expected, you had sort of pictured Sirius and his mates lived in a pigsty despite the house elf's best efforts. Sirius sat beside you.

“So, worst-case scenario, you can't break the bound until after winter holiday?” he asked you nodded.

“and you can't break the bound unless I see your mother and let her do black magic stuff on me,” you nodded again.

“right, fine whatever. And you swear on your life she won't hurt me?”

“Not intentionally, no.” you assured him. Just because your mother was a black magic wielder didn't mean she was evil. And even if she wanted to hurt him she wouldn't be so careless as to hurt a Black who could run to his rich family and ruin all of her careful planning.

“would you make an unbreakable vow?” he asked. You thought about it for a long moment before sticking out your right hand.

“yes, I would,” you said gravely. He nodded.

“that's good enough for me, I'll take your word for it.” he said. You quirked an eyebrow at him but put your hand down all the same.

“but we can't go right away, the holiday starts on the nineteenth, we aren't going to leave until the twenty-third.” he stated firmly leaving no room for argument. You bit your lip not knowing how to pull it off, or what your mother would say to the whole thing.

“fine, but do you mind me asking why?” you said crossing your arms.

“It's better if you don't know,” he said rubbing his temples. You opened your mouth to pry, but you shut it quickly. it was none of your business if Sirius wanted to keep secrets.

“okay then, we leave the twenty-third and go from there, is there anything else we need to plan?” you asked. Your fingers began to tap uneasily on your arm.

“if I'm going to stay bound to you for that long, we need to talk about- uh you know. Feeding me,” he said awkwardly. You never knew the Sirius Black could stumble over his own words.

“obviously I'm not going to force you into anything you aren't willing to do, but we need to work something out.”

“it isn't just sex you feed on the right?” you asked not meeting his eyes. How on earth were you supposed to have sex with Sirius when you were so inexperienced? What if you were so bad in bed he couldn't feed on it? besides you couldn’t do that, if you did have sex with him, it would break the bound and then what leverage would you have over him?

“I feed on lust, physical contact. Kisses, Hugs, Strip poker, and if your feeling slutty we can hold hands,” he said the cocky smile returning to his face. You hit his shoulder hard. He cried out in mock pain.

“Alright alright, but there is a drawback, like I only technically need sex every two weeks or so, like feeding wise. But you know Kisses and all that I need more, like at least one a day.” he explained.

“Okay, a kiss a day. I think I can manage that,” you said trying to sound confident. You had never kissed anyone in your life, but honestly how hard could it be? The people in movies and books did it all the time and you were nothing if not a quick learner.

“do you want to give me a kiss right now?” he asked wiggling his eyebrows at you

“only if I have to you git,” you snapped rolling your eyes.

“don't think this is great for me either I have to kiss a Slytherin.” he shuddered then he continued “but I do think you are morally obligated to kiss me,”

“oh don't you dare bring morality into this you're a demon!” you said exasperated.

“Half Demon and the other half is perfectly kissable human!” he shouted. It was kind of funny seeing him get so flustered.

“alright then,” you said crossing your arms. “what exactly have you done to earn a kiss?” you asked flipping your hair.

“well the princess normally kisses the knight in shining armor after he saves her,” he said his voice dripping with sarcasm. It was your turn to be flustered.

“I'm not your bloody princess! And when have you ever saved me? All you've done is made my life more difficult!” you squawked, you couldn't believe he had called you a princess.

“is Darling better? Cutie pie? Sugar Cube? Pumpkin?” he started rambling off worse and worse pet names.

“I have a name you know,”

“ah yes and it is a lovely one,” he sighed. You stood up.

“I'm done I'm leaving.” you barked. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to him.

“no you can't go out there without the invisibility cloak!” he hissed “Besides, I still haven't gotten my kiss.” you were going to kick his ass.

“you didn't save me from anything,” you snapped. It was insane how quickly you could get in a fight with him. If this is was the way Sirius treated all girls then you weren't surprised the majority of them only stayed for a night.

“the boggart, this afternoon,” he pointed out

“I had that under control,” you said instantly. But hadn't you been grateful for him stepping in? You sat next to him with a huff. You crossed your legs and folded your hands neatly in your lap.

“fine whatever, kiss me. No tongue and so help me god if your hands travel I will cut them off.” you snapped. Sirius hesitated. You had called him on his bluff, now he actually had to kiss you. Your eyes fluttered close, you leaned closer and pursed your lips. He burst out laughing making your eyes shoot open.

“god you're so posh, how am I supposed to kiss you when you're like a meter away?” he laughed you grit yours teach.

“sod off I've never done this before how am I supposed to know?” you snapped. He froze.

“You've never been kissed?” he breathed “god I knew you where lame but I never would have guessed you were that stuck up,” he said as if he was truly amazed. You stood up again, you would deal with the other Gryffindors, you’d hex the lot of em just to get out.

“wait no, I'll teach you,” he shouted you stopped. You would still have to kiss him eventually no matter if you left now or not.

“what you are going to do?” you asked cautiously. Patted his lap invitingly “I'm not sitting on your fucking lap.” you said appalled. He grabbed you by the wrists and pulled you forward you stumbled and landed on his thighs your head smacking on his firm chest. You looked up, the Slytherin dorm room didn't have windows, but Sirius's dorm room did. Pink light flooded the room. Golden sunlight streamed into the room his green eyes flashed as gold as the light. You blushed, realizing you where starring. You pulled away from his chest but didn't get up from his lap.

“see, that wasn't that bad was it?” he said softly

“whatever, remember what I said about wandering hands,” you muttered not meeting his gaze. He cupped your face gently tilting your head up so you were looking at him in the eyes.

“are my hands okay here?” he teased. “also you better have brushed your teeth this morning, I don't like kissing Slytherins in the best of time,”

“You really are the worst, and I swear to Merlin I will bite your tongue off if you try to shove it in my mouth” you threatened

“god you are worse than my bloody grandmother,” Sirius scowled

“you kiss your Grandmother with tongue?” Sirius leaned forward shutting you up with his lips. Kissing him was...fine. Like it wasn't a pleasant feeling, his lips moving against yours. But you had been expecting more. If the couples snogging in the hallway where any indication kissing was like a drug to people, but you didn't feel that way.

you mimicked him to the best of your abilities, moving your lips and head the way he did, trying to learn as you went. you didn’t think the kiss was bad, but when he pulled away you weren’t desperate for another kiss

“did that do it for you?” you asked licking your lips. You could still taste him, the thought of Sirius staining your lips with his made you cringe a little.

“Don't phrase it like that but yeah. Could you tell I was feeding off of you?” he asked. You shook your head no.

“don't know how we're gonna sneak off together so often, once a day you said? People are going to be suspicious you know,” you said getting off his lap and straightening your skirt.

“we'll pretend we're dating then we can have a big messy brake up after you brake the bound. We can hate each other like normal behind closed doors and act like a happy couple for everyone else. Then one day I'll flirt with you your heart will skip a beat, and that will be the moment you realize you fell in love with me, and maybe I love you too-”

“how romantic, too bad I'd rather Shag your Prudish Grandmother,”

“you cut me off mid monologue,” he pouted.

“are you always this dramatic? Besides, you are forgetting one slightly important thing. Because of you, I have a date with Moles-” you glanced up at a calendar on the wall, it was already Tuesday, where had the time gone? It seemed like just yesterday you were summoning demons in the basement of Hogwarts.

“Christ I have a date with him tomorrow.”

Tag list:@booksaremymate @buckyos @drama-llama-04@wonderholicc @peasantview @blackpinkdolan @can-i-just-like-it @monster-alien-chode @evilunicorns4minions @shittyoudidntneedtoknow @way-ward-whale @evyiione @mey-rapp

Remember if you want to be added just ask and I’ll add you!

#sins of mortals #Sirius Black #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #the marauders #marauders headcanon #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #marauders x you #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine

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amethystina · 5 years

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Masterlist Trading Losers 2018

It took me way too long to get here (and I deeply apologise) but here is the masterlist from Trading Losers 2018 with all the entries and my responding trades.

Since this got pretty long, you’ll find them under the cut!

The first trade:

The Depths of Silence by donutsweeper

Length: 2 167 words

Rating/Warnings/Tags: G / Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst

Summary: Cougar decided he hated the quiet.

MY PART:

Where You Belong

Length: 25 330 words

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T / Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor injuries

Summary: Jensen is excited when he learns that they're getting a team member, even just on a trial basis. Except, when he actually meets this Sergeant Alvarez, it quickly becomes apparent that the man is, for lack of a better word, not quite there. He's wary and aloof, distancing himself from the rest of the team, and clearly carries some kind of baggage. Jensen knows he shouldn't meddle, but he can't help but feel that Alvarez shouldn't have to go through this alone. The man needs a friend.

And, come hell or high water, Jensen decides he's going to be that friend.

_____

The second trade:

A Midnight Clear by Quire

Length: 2 507 words

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T / None

Summary: Jensen doesn't seem to realise he's a problem.

That's what the problem really is.

MY PART:

Art: With You

_____

The third trade:

Mooch by imafriendlydalek

Length: 6 647 words

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T / PTSD, Anxiety Attack

Summary: Jake can't help but feel intrigued by his hat-wearing neighbor, who has been mooching off his WiFi.

MY PART:

Art for the fic: Mooch

_____

The fourth trade:

my lover's got humour he's the giggle at a funeral by buckybunnyteeth

Length: 1 122 words

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T / First Meetings, Meet-Cute, DADT Mention, Canon-Typical Violence, Pre-Slash

Summary: Sgt. Alvarez. Who is looking at him with a distinctly amused look on his face.

Competent, kind, sexy killing machine. If he’s good with kids than Jensen’s done for.

Or; Jensen meets Cougar for the first time and is weak.

MY PART:

Five Times Cougar Thought Jensen Was Bad at Flirting and One Time He Didn't

Length: 11 571 words

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T / Bad Flirting, Some Jealousy, Fluff, Pining, Happy Ending

Summary: Jensen has always been bad at flirting. Over the years, Cougar has seen him strike out time and time again, to the point where he kind of feels sorry for him. It's almost impressive how terrible Jensen is at it, but Cougar has accepted his best friends' lack of prowess as one of those things that makes Jensen who he is.

Cougar is therefore not sure what to believe when he starts noticing some conflicting evidence. Clues that suggest that, maybe, Jensen isn't as terrible at flirting as Cougar has been led to believe. Why Jensen would lie about something like that is a mystery, but it can't be denied that Jensen is definitely hiding something.

And Cougar is going to find out what.

_____

The fifth trade:

If I Touch You, Will You Listen? by wakandan_wardog

Length: 2 626 words

Rating/Warnings/Tags: G / Prequel, Supernatural Elements, Pining, Pre-Movie, Unintentional BDSM

Summary: Cougar has a bad feeling as they prepare for the Fadhil Operation, he probably should listen to it, but there's no way to sell Clay on 'the spirits think it's a bad idea and Mama always warned to listen to them', so he stays quiet. But Jensen... He'll stick close to Jensen, and maybe warn the tech to stay sharp. He probably doesn't need to put his hands on Jake to do that, but, oh well.

MY PART:

Art: Jensen and Cougar as Cupid and Psyche

_____

The sixth trade:

Your Pain is My Gain by Shi_Toyu

Length: 2 265 words

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T / Graphic Depictions of Violence, Injury, Major Character Injury, Blood and Injury, Serious Injuries, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, First Kiss, Mistaken Character Death, Misunderstandings, Grief/Mourning

Summary: When Cougar's injured on a mission, Jensen will do whatever it takes to get him back to safety... but at what cost?

MY PART:

Art for the fic

_____

The seventh trade:

You’re Speaking My Language! by Aerica_Menai

Length: 2 265 words

Summary: Jensen was doing a great job of hiding his asexuality and his gigantic crush on Cougar - until the two started watching Merlin together and staging a ship war (discussion, really) that brings to light more than just their feelings about two characters in love...

MY PART:

Jigsaw

Length: 13 607 words

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T / Asexual Jake Jensen, Internalized Acephobia, Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, POV Multiple

Summary: Jigsaw /ˈdʒɪɡsɔː/ noun 1. a puzzle consisting of a picture printed on cardboard or wood and cut into various pieces of different shapes that have to be fitted together.

2. a complicated problem that can only be resolved by assembling various pieces of information.

3. to arrange or place in an intricate or interlocking way.

How, one piece at a time, Cougar and Jensen find their happy ending.

_____

The eight trade:

Arrow, meet knee by karnavi

Length: 7 355 words

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T / Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Fix-It, Mild Sexual Content, Dream Relationship

Summary: Jensen is still blurry on the details of how he got himself and Cougar out of New Jerusalem alive, he blames it on shock and adrenaline. The fact remains that getting their lives back after putting Max down is now just a really long period of secret committee hearings, interviews and presenting loads of evidence.

Somewhere along the process Jensen and Cougar came to a mutual agreement about their feelings for each other with almost ideal precision and no actual consultation.

Neither is complaining.

MY PART:

Siren Song

Length: 31 204 words

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T / Pirate AU, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Slavery, Catholic Guilt, Canon-Typical Violence, Injuries, Blood, Happy Ending, Religion, Religious Discussion

Summary: Carlos has always taken great pride in his uniform. He is a respected lieutenant within the Spanish Navy, liked by his men and known for his outstanding morals and efficiency. All of that changes the day he meets Jacob Jensen — a man with a bold, mischievous smile and eyes as blue as the sky.

Suddenly, Carlos's world isn't as neat and orderly as he once believed. He starts questioning things he shouldn't — starts wanting things that are forbidden — and, piece by piece, Carlos's world crumbles around him. He tries to resist, but, no matter how hard he struggles, he can't get Jensen out of his mind, or stop the changes the man has set in motion.

The question is simply who Carlos will be once he emerges on the other side.

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Go give them all some love! <3

#Trading Losers #Trading Losers 2018 #Masterlist #Trading Losers Masterlist #Trading Losers 2018 Masterlist #So long overdue #I'm so sorry #But here they are #FINALLY

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mnchysmanuscripts · 5 years

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Tracks and Societies

Sometimes, your brain just doesn’t cut it. There will always be circumstances under which it will abandon you in your time of need. There are some addictions too great for even the most disciplined, seasoned veteran of No Nut November. Sticks can only take you so far, too. As long as temptations are present, eventually you will give in and take the undesired path of least resistance. As long as a mistake is possible to be made, it eventually will be. So, how do we make a mistake impossible to make? We need to remove our brains from the decision making process, and to do that we need to eliminate the decision making process altogether. You can’t be tempted to eat the first marshmallow if you weren’t given it in the first place. By removing the possibility of making the unfavorable decision, your brain has quite possibly the easiest decision imaginable. Your favored outcome is the only option, so you’ll be forced into it whether you want to or not. Analogies to the Marshmallow Experiment break down right about here, so in other words: If you want to masturbate but you have mutilated your genitals beyond the point of recognition or functionality, then the decision not to has already been made for you. Instead of trusting your brain and relying on discipline, both of which can fail you, you can just bust your dick and shoot your cock off to make masturbating impossible before you even get horny. You have removed the possibility to make bad decisions along with your penis.

Now, cutting off your penis to avoid jacking off is total overkill in most scenarios. But, there are scenarios where removing factors to incentivize certain types of behavior isn’t just useful, it’s a prerequisite to making good decisions at all.

Humans are a result of their surroundings, and nothing more. From the moment we are born, we are influenced by the people and the systems in place around us. Where someone grows up will completely define their personality, and even after we’ve grown we are still susceptible to the influence of the people we hang out around. If your friends and family do something, chances are you will too eventually. This is just how society works, and isn’t really a bad thing inherently. But, you can be influenced by those around you negatively, obviously. If you grow up in an abusive household, any number of developmental problems can arise based upon your specific situation. If you are beaten, you could be normalized to violence and beat your children. This same idea can go for ideas. You can be infected with bad ideas by your friends if your friends are crappy-ass friends. I’m not talking about political ideology, I’m talking about everything. If you spend your time in an environment with veggies who just slack off and loaf around, then you might lose that fire yourself and slip into inaction. If you spend your time in an environment with assholes who only see the negative side of things and are quick to anger, then you might start feeling irritable and depressed more often than you used to. And, if you spend your time in an environment with people who are overweight, you might care less about what you eat and never work out. This isn’t magic, it’s common sense. Not only will you adapt to resemble the other people in your environment for social reasons, but people are the way they are because of the environmental structures in their lives that incentives that behavior in the first place. Thus if you are also in that environmental structure, you will also feel the weight of its manipulation. Society will manipulate you into its patterns through a mixture of a thousand different factors. There is a social factor, but there’s also cultural factors, economic factors, and even geographical factors. People are overweight for a reason. Your economic background could affect the kind of food you can afford, your geographical location could make exercising difficult, and your culture could affect how important health is to you, all coalescing into you being overweight, which in turn makes you a social factor that further manipulates those around you to be overweight too. All of these factors are what constitute your society, your environment, and it’s this society we’re going to have to change if we want to stop jacking off.

Tracks are the secret third prong that I alluded to at the end of my last post. Together with carrots and sticks, tracks can keep you making the right decisions far, far more consistently by removing unfavorable outcomes from your environment. Most of your worst habits aren’t the result of your lack of moral character, they’re a result of the environment you’re in. By changing your environment, you can make making good decisions easy by making bad decisions impossible. Carrots and sticks are for you, tracks are for your environment. If there are structural issues in your life manipulating you into unfavorable outcomes, trying to fight against your brain and the society at the same time just isn’t going to work out. You need to craft your environment to the point where it can foster your favored outcomes, or at the very least doesn’t foster your unfavored outcomes. While it’s impossible to choose your environments, if you make a concerted effort you can affect individual factors of them. If you’ve got crappy-ass friends who don’t want to get action or who routinely anger or upset you, dump ‘em. They’re a negative factor in your environment. Don’t let marshmallows that you know you’ll prematurely eat into your life, they aren’t worth it. Tracks are this action, removing the negative factors in your environment to make way for carrots and sticks.

Now, you can erect tracks throughout your life, but I have used them to fantastic results on the computer especially. After all, you will have to exercise some discipline to not buy more marshmallows when you are craving them. But, the computer is an unfeeling machine. If you tell it to do something, it will do it, no matter what. Your computer has no emotions with which to sway it’s decision making processes. It is a perfectly mold-able environment for you to shape into whatever type of space you want to. It has thousands upon thousands of theoretical track configurations and is the perfect playground to test out your carrots and sticks. And, perhaps in the modern world it is the most relevant place in your life to do so.

Many of you have told me that you resonated with my previous posts where I discussed my addiction to YouTube. I’m going to tell you right now how to get unaddicted. It’s not by relying on discipline. When you’re addicted to something, the willpower necessary to ignore your addiction is staggeringly high. You need something better than you brain. You need to erect some tracks in your environment. Download an app blocker. It doesn’t matter which one, I use Cold Turkey but they’re all the same. Using this, you can outright block yourself from accessing YouTube, as I have done. Now, this is on the more extreme spectrum of what tracks are capable of, but I have identified YouTube as such a harmful force in my life that I have blocked it indefinitely, possibly forever. Life is always changing, and once I’m not addicted to it I might slowly start reintroducing it to my life. But, for the past week or two, it’s been completely inaccessible. It’s orgasmic. The amount of newly found time I have is mind-blowing, and now that I’ve made my online environment less inherently distracted I’m able to fine-tune other areas I feel like still need balancing. For instance, I use Discord too much. But, I don’t want to stop using it all together. Because my environment is mostly clear of distracting programs/websites, I can use carrots and sticks to reduce my usage to a point where I’m happy with it easily. Punch a hole in society with tracks, mend the wound with carrots and sticks, all the while staying intentional and thoughtful. That’s my plan for the Year of Conquest.

#munchuscript

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