#or at the very least they don’t think beyond the surface level and it’s so fucking aggravating

[peachcitt]

in class and my professor called me aside to ask if im alright and it’s like. hashtag how do i tell you that i feel like you are wasting my time and you will most likely continue wasting my time for the next two hours giving me lectures on content and ideas ive already learned and practiced twice over all while in a classroom where the majority of students in there don’t actually care as much as they should to have a career in this field and that’s hashtag killing my vibe. like how do i say that

[demonsinmywindows]

okay so we all know saiki is a genius. we all know this. I’d love to elaborate.

Saiki can pretty much passively absorb everything he learns, and it seems like he doesn’t really forget anything. Even when he has those ‘uh oh’ moments that we’ve seen, it’s always been because of a distraction and not because lack of knowledge. Bc he absorbs so much information from his direct surroundings, it takes almost nothing for him to learn what’s required of him. ie; how he’s expected to act, the best route to get somewhere, what he learns in school etc.

Consequently, it takes him very little effort to accomplish the ‘regular’ academic expectations for his age. We’ve seen him do a years worth of homework in the blink of an eye… (here comes my hc)

Thus he has a lot of time on his hands. And Saiki is innately curious. To bide his time, he likes to delve into obscure topics, to learn things that are completely unfamiliar to the average person. So Saiki knows a lot, and Saiki reads a lot. At the very ~least~ he knows all about advanced quantum physics, from Kusuke’s mind. Now this MAY be me projecting, but I like to think that Saiki loves to research all things history and philosophy (the average person is not often thinking about these things beyond the surface level).

As a result, his classmates often see him reading about some of the most random and specific subjects ever (after all, what exudes ‘don’t talk to me’ more than reading a dense book?). They come to know that Saiki is the one to go to if they have any questions about ANY general knowledge (see also: kaido asking saiki for homework help even though his own class rank is much higher)

And maybe some of them wonder: why? Why does Saiki perform averagely at school, when he seems so interested in learning? Maybe someone finally asks him about some miscellaneous inconsequential fact…. and the next thing they know Saiki is spouting facts at a mile a minute. Oh you’re asking about Alexander the Great? Did you know that he died so young because he became paralyzed from contaminated wine and then was buried alive? Did you know Alexander’s lineage supposedly traces back to Achilles himself, suggesting that the events of the Trojan War have basis in truth? And if that is the case, what could have caused the decade long Mediterranean sea journeys of Odysseus and Menelaus who were descendants of the Minoan sea experts?

Okay anyways. Moral of the story, Saiki is a secret NERD and you cannot take that away from me. I live by the fact that he is just a random scholar of all things.

Plz expand, I would love to know ur thoughts/reactions

[sehtoast]

Can I request a homelander x single mother reader

Hl meets struggling reader with her newborn child. At first he watches her taking pleasure in how pathetic she is but eventually falls I love with her 🙏

So unfortunately one of my things with being a trans man is it’s very very hard for me to be able to envision this perspective and go too in depth with it, because it does end up inducing some weird bubblings of dysphoria (the mother role, not the having a kid thing), but I’m good to go surface level and just sort of headcanon it out if it’s all the same to you anon <3

He actually had no intention of fixating on you whatsoever. Not only were you normal– you were boring.  Just some human mud living your human life.  Not his speed at all.  At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

See, he could smell it.  He practically salivated the second he got a whiff of your body producing milk.  You were just some desk jockey finally returning after maternity leave, but you caught his eye in mere seconds.

Then he started really paying attention.  Watching through the walls, following you home, watching you pick up that sniveling beast that you fawned over so dearly no matter how loudly it screeched in the middle of the night.  How you didn’t leave the thing for the wolves after the first explosive diaper was beyond him, but the soft, nurturing, kind side of you ensures the wee thing is put back together and content before even once worrying for yourself.

After a while, he can really see it in your eyes.  You’re exhausted.  Barely making ends meet, barely affording the babysitter, barely keeping from keeling over.

He smirks when you miss your stop on the train.  You don’t know he’s sat on the connector between cars, mere feet away, but you don’t have to know that.  You don’t have to know anything like that.  You just need to sit pretty and let him watch.

Just like you really don’t need to worry when you’re cornered in an alley by some filth reeking of alcohol.  You don’t need to fret, because he’s there in a heartbeat, lasering that worthless fuck in two and sweeping you into his safe, strong arms.

Your tears leak against his chest and he swears to hell and back he’ll never allow the costume department to wash away your scent.  He brings you to a roof, makes small talk while you calm down.

“Say, you work at Vought, don’t you? I think I’ve seen you around.”

He thinks he’s so smooth about it.  Like it’d be a mystery the next day when you’ve got a whopping promotion to be his new assistant, complete with a full benefits package including childcare and a salary that nearly has you falling to your knees.

The flowers on your desk are only the start…

I do also want to apologize that my requests have taken so long to start. I had an absolutely insane workload for school over the last 12 weeks, but thankfully I've got a little break now. That said, my requests are open once again <3

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Hey!! What do you think about the recurring joke in the SOC duology, of Kaz asking a question, everyone giving answers, and usually a quip at the end? Do you think there's significance in it, or is it just a fun way to show the crows' dynamic?

Sorry if this is a stupid question.

Rule one: there are no stupid questions.

Although these conversations might seem like a relatively surface level aspect of the novels, I think that their significance is in the very way they teach us about the Crows dynamic and tell us so much about the characters. The duology’s biggest success comes from the intense vibrancy of its characters, and it’s these types of conversations that not only help us understand who they are and how they interact with each other, but also that make us laugh and therefore care about the characters all the more. Take the parallel from soc to ck about Matthias’ character development - in six of crows Kaz asks the group what the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet is, and the replies consist of “gun to the back” from Jesper, “knife to the throat” from Inej, and “poison in his cup” from Nina, before Matthias cuts them off and says “you’re all horrible” then in crooked kingdom Kaz asks where the group think he spent the money Pekka gave them for the sale of the Crow Club and 5th harbour, getting “guns” and “ships” amongst his answers and after a pause Nina says to Matthias “this is the part where you tell us how awful we are” but he simply replies “they all seem like practical choices”. This tells us so much about the characters and how they think!!! In the first instance, we don’t yet know the characters very well, so it’s important that we begin to associate the guns with Jesper and the knives with Inej, as well as understand that Nina works with subtle but violent tactics. We learn from this brief interaction that they’ve reached a point in their lives where murder or threatening murder is the easiest way out in every option, and we’ve also arguably learned that they are eager to please Kaz because they are all instantly searching for the answer that will impress him even though he’s sure to just continue on and explain his own thought anyway. We also have no response from Wylan, if I remember correctly at least, which shows the time it takes for him to mesh with the group and his heightened anxiety at the start of the first book. In the Crooked Kingdom interaction, we have a clear transition in Inej’s character from the association of her and knives to the association of her and her dream, a ship and crew of her own, and I’m pretty sure Wylan does reply in that one so it shows his personal progression and how he’s been able to mesh with the group and because more comfortable in his own skin. Matthias’ character development between the two is more obvious and openly commented on in the conversation, but what’s also interesting is that Kaz is there both times with a genuine answer and explanation. Even though he never seems the last to enjoy a joke or quip, when he’s discussing his plans Kaz almost entirely loses the ability to think beyond the job; everything is entirely black and white and categorised by whether it’s relevant, which means it’s what he’s saying, or inessential, meaning what the others are saying.

And what’s possible even more interesting is that you can see this in almost every one of these interactions Leigh Bardugo loves to include (and we love her for, of course). For example, in one of my favourites of these little formulas Kaz asks the group if they know what Van Eck’s biggest problem is. The responses are “no honour” (Matthias), “rotten parenting skills” (Nina), and “receding hairline” (Jesper). This never fails to make me smile; Matthias’ is so quintessentially himself, everything he values and such good summary of why he would be so willing to support anyone, even these thugs and thieves, against Van Eck, Nina’s showcases her dark humour and protective nature, her hatred for Van Eck is sourced far more in his treatment of Wylan and Inej than anything else, and Jesper’s is funny, witty, a genuine ongoing joke (such as Nina thinking that Wylan may need to invest in a hood tonic when she meets Van Eck) and just emphasises his sharp-wit as well as showing growth beyond the desperate need to impress Kaz that he harboured for so long before he properly got to know Wylan. But Kaz’s reply is simply returning to the job, stating that Van Eck’s problem is that he has “too much to lose” and that he revealed exactly how to destroy him by bragging about Alys and their unborn child.

I hope this made sense, it can be hard to tell whether I’ve actually translated my thoughts into the right words haha. Thanks so much for your question!!

[goldrushenthusiast]

What are your thoughts on the District 11 tributes in the 74th (Rue and Thresh) and 75th (Seeder and Chaff) The Hunger Games?

How do you think life differs between Distinct 11 and 12?

*Spoiler alert*

What do you think about the inserted scene of rebellion in District 11 in the first movie (scene after Rue's death)?

Thank you :)

@curiousnonny

I think district 11 is a fascinating district! On surface level it seems similar to 12, which I think deep down Katniss believed too, but it really isn’t like it at all which I think impacts how Katniss eventually sees it.

You know how there’s the Seam and the merchants in District 12? I think it does exist. It has to. I think Dill and Chaff are from it, for reasons I explain later, but I had to get that out of the way because in the same way Peeta & Katniss have fundamental differences from growing up in the Seam vs Merchant, I think it affects the tributes as well.

I think we should also consider Reaper and Dill from BOSAS, so I’m gonna do that lol.

I think that, for Thresh, the hunger games were an opportunity. A chance at something beyond working on the farms, no matter how terrible it might seem. While I don’t think he was excited for it, I think it would’ve been a glass half full situation he was going to utilize. I genuinely think he stood a chance at winning.

He would’ve shared the same knowledge of plants and stuff as Rue, would’ve kept his moral compass working (the thing with Katniss & owing), and it makes sense he got as far as he did. District 11 is definitely a competitor in these games, noticed even by Coriolanus in BOSAS.

For Rue, on the other hand, this was worst case scenario. I saw someone else mention there was a higher chance for her to be chosen because she had so many siblings and probably took out tesserae, and I think that’s exactly right, and having so many would only make the whole thing worse. I don’t think she had a huge chance of winning, but would’ve even more than the average 12 year old and if she fought hard there’d be something there.

Her climbing skills, of course, give her as much of an advantage as Katniss, plus her stealth. I think she could’ve survived till top 8, especially if she’d stayed in the trees. I also think her knowledge of plants would both help her, and hurt her enemies if she was willing, although I don’t think she would be. She could pull a fox face & Peeta move almost, leaving some poisonous and some not harmful berries or something in a “hiding” place for the careers to find. I just don’t think she’d survive in hand to hand combat. Plus, if she ever found him, I think Thresh would help her even though it wouldn’t help him.

Seeder and Chaff, I can’t be as sure about as I don’t remember as much about them, but I think at least one of them (Chaff, I think) would’ve been from the merchant part of D11. Both being statistically liking, and from his outlook on the games, both before and after he became a victor.

Just read up on him at Hunger Games wiki, and the fact he lost a hand but refused a capitol prosthetic is really very interesting, especially in the farming district. He was so assured that he’d be fine, he’d be taken care of, that he didn’t need one. It was probably an act of rebellion, but goes to show how self assured he was about what the capital would do for him.

Seeder grew up in the seam part to me, given the fact that she never turned to drugs, alcohol (like Chaff did) or any type of escape. She’s mentioned as looking strong despite being 60, and you can’t really achieve that without working hard in childhood and stuff, and continuing to, which I think she would’ve felt was her duty.

Thresh and Reaper also have some interesting similarities, both with their thing (& Katniss’) about owing people. I think D11, and their strict policies, force a sense of community upon the residents that binds them together and helps them trust others both more easily and still more carefully, because of how risky it is if you’re wrong.

If anyone is wondering what Reaper’s thing about owing people is, let me remind you how he apologized to the tributes about having to kill them before the games started (also relating to how strong the residents of D11, or at least the men, interestingly enough, are), and promised to make the capital pay. This was before Jessie spat in his eye btw, so there’s really no excuse for him to be saying other than a strategy or actually meaning it.

Reaper collecting the tributes and lining them up, however, could for sure be attributed to the rabies, but I don’t really know. We’re led to believe it is by Coriolanus because of how unempathetic and unfeeling he is, so of course someone caring is automatically categorized as crazy, and of course that part is used as foreshadow, but it’s still something to think about. How d11 views things and people and companionship.

Dill, however…she’s Dill. She’s tiny. Sickly. Couldn’t tell you much about her, and sometimes I honestly get her confused with Wovey, except Wovey lived longer. Dill was literally the first official death in the games, ofc excluding everyone who died from the bombs and such.

Something curious about Dill is that she’s a snitch, and by that I mean she told a capitol guy Reaper killed a peacekeeper (also, what the hell Reaper? Goes to show just how strong he is and why he considers himself so capable). I think Dill was probably merchant, also she did have tuberculosis, which would’ve been not as rare there.

She also probably knew she was dying no matter what and wanted to get everything out there, which I don’t blame her for.

Woah ok I did not expect to write so much about the tributes. Woah.

Anywho, life in 12 vs 11 is definitely as different as, say, life in 2 vs life in 7. Honestly, 12 would probably be more similar to 2, because of the mining and huts as houses and stuff like that.

In 11, you’re expected to be outside. All the time. Working, working, working. Jobs are assigned, roles specified, it’s very orderly and there’s not much anyone can do about it. Work also starts early, probably as old as 10 due to how experienced Rue was working in the trees. Meanwhile in 12, you can only start mining at 18, which Katniss acknowledges as a weakness.

This is a bit off topic, but the mining age probably started to be an issue after Coriolanus showed up and realized just how much worse he could make the lives of d12 people by raising the mining age (both in the games and money wise)

Back to the original point, In 12? If you’re outside, that’s fine. The peacekeepers love the hunters, and we know some townsfolk venture to the edges of the meadow and the woods to forage as well. Getting your own methods of food is fine, nearly encouraged.

11 is also way more strict, which Suzanne makes clear to us a lot. When Katniss visits 12 and they shoot the old man. Talking with Rue about punishments. Lots of stuff that makes Katniss do a double take and realize maybe she was lucky to grow up in 12 instead. It certainly has more freedom, despite 11 having the same working conditions. Truly, I think 11 would be the worst to grow up in, even though it helps so much with the hunger games.

Love the scene, btw!! It really supports my point about the strictness of D12 and how it forces a sense of community and stuff. It was a nice addition and realistic I think.

Also, the fact Rue knew the boy who was slow and his story about forgetting to put back the night vision glasses is so much more than an introduction to the glasses!! it shows how much the residents know about each other and how well they remember based on what the peacekeepers enforce.

Ok this has got to be one of my longest ramblings to date, but I loved it! I don’t focus as much on the original series as I should when I usually do these, and it was a fun change of pace actually having to go through the wikis instead of just remembering like I do for BOSAS.

Thank you for the question @curiousnonny , and I hope you enjoy my answer as much as I liked writing it! As always feel free to debate (but not argue or insult) with me in the comments as I always love having these combed through and stuff and getting a chance to learn more.

[anthurak]

Not the Bird You’re Thinking Of...

When thinking of Team STRQ as a ‘previous generation’ version of Team RWBY, it feels like a pretty common held take among the fandom at this point that Raven was the ‘Blake’ of her team, in the same way it seems pretty clear that Summer paralleled Ruby and Tai paralleled Yang. And it’s certainly been easy to draw some links between Blake and Raven, particularly when paralleling Blake’s relationship with Yang to Raven’s relationship with Tai.

I mean I’ll freely admit that I myself was one-hundred-percent on-board with this take back when the end of Volume 3 seemed to pull a ‘history repeats’ trope with Blake abandoning Yang in a way that felt very similar to Raven abandoning Tai. Which continued through Volume 5 where it seemed like the story was setting up Blake/Yang as a foil to Raven/Tai, with Blake returning to Yang, where Raven didn’t return to Tai.

However, more recently I’ve started to question how well this current interpretation of Team STRQ=Team RWBY actually works with what we now know of the characters. Like if nothing else, this current setup of Summer=Ruby, Tai=Yang and Raven=Blake leaves Qrow being the equivalent to Weiss, which I think we can all agree is… a head-scratching comparison to say the least.

Now to be fair, I do think the parallels between Summer-Ruby and Tai-Yang are still solid. Rather, it’s the supposed parallels between Raven and Blake that I’m questioning.

See, when you start looking past the surface-level ‘Raven did something similar to what Blake did’ parallels and start comparing these two as actual characters and people, things start getting pretty sketchy.

Yes, both fit the ‘dark, edgy loner’ trope, but beyond that are some serious differences. Blake is quiet and withdrawn whereas Raven is brusque and standoffish. Blake often acts humble while Raven often acts superior. And whereas Blake is so often self-deprecating and wallowing in self-pity for any wrongs she believes she may have committed (see Volume 4), Raven tries to blame others for her mistakes and runs away from responsibility. Ask yourself, does it really make sense that Blake could feasibly grow into the kind of person we see Raven as in Volume 4 and 5? Personally, I don’t think it really does.

And the best part is, do you know who IS so often quiet, withdrawn, brooding and has shown a serious self-deprecation and wallowing-in-self-pity problem in recent volumes?

Qrow.

So yeah, I actually think that it’s QROW who makes a way better parallel to Blake on Team STRQ than Raven does. And let’s not forget that Qrow ALSO put his absolute trust and faith behind a leader who ultimately let him down in a huge way. Even their weapons feels similar from a certain point of view, both having a sword-mode, the gun-form of Qrow’s weapon functioning like a handgun, and the sickle-form of Blake’s weapon more or less serving as a miniature scythe. Plus, I feel like growing up into basically the James Bond of Remnant fits Blake way better than Raven.

Oh, and this shift ALSO fixes the confusing element I brought up earlier. Because you know who was brusque and standoffish and acted like she knew better than everyone else at the start of the show?

Weiss.

Just as Qrow makes a way better parallel to Blake on Team STRQ, I think Raven likewise makes a very good parallel to Weiss. Certainly a better parallel than Qrow does. When we look at Raven in Volumes 4 and 5 and consider what we’ve heard about her, I think it makes way more sense that she would have been more like Weiss in the teams Beacon days. Oh, and let’s not forget that Raven’s weapon is a dust-infused sword with a rotating chamber just like Weiss’s.

And when we start extrapolating these changes to the character dynamics of Team STRQ, I think we start seeing a LOT of interesting parallels to the dynamics of Team RWBY. Particularly when we think of Team STRQ as the ‘failed’ version of Team RWBY who made the wrong decisions.

Like one of the things that made Qrow paralleling Weiss so confusing is that what little we’ve heard of his relationship with Summer doesn’t mesh that well with Weiss’s dynamic with Ruby. But with Qrow paralleling Blake, suddenly the way he talks about Summer makes a LOT more sense. Qrow seems to hold a great admiration and respect for Summer, saying ‘she was always the best of us’ and seems to have also had a close, platonic affection towards her. Which lines up very well with how fiercely loyal Blake has shown to be towards Ruby in recent volumes and in particular their conversation in Volume 8 when Blake tells Ruby how much she admires and respects her.

And of course, even the scant amount of info we have about Raven’s relationship with Summer makes a lot more sense paralleling to Weiss’s and Ruby’s relationship. Like if we start looking at Raven as at least partially representing a version of Weiss who lost Ruby, I think a LOT of her behavior and actions start making a lot more sense.

Now the one wrinkle with this whole idea I know a lot people are going to bring up is; ‘How can Raven be the Weiss of Team STRQ when her and Tai’s relationship parallels Bumbleby?’

Well consider this: What if Raven and Tai didn’t actually HAVE a relationship? If we start working from the concept of Team STRQ being a version of Team RWBY who made the wrong decisions, what if Raven and Tai trying to get together was one of those? I’ve brought this up in other posts, but I have a hunch at this point that Yang was an unplanned pregnancy. The product of what was supposed to be some one-night-stand between Raven and Tai which drove them into trying to force a relationship that one or both of them didn’t actually want. Which in turn is at least one of the major reasons Raven fled her team after Yang was born.

Raven’s and Tai’s relationship was never going to work because they’re NOT actually the parallel to Bumbleby on Team STRQ. The parallel to Bumbleby on Team STRQ is Qrow and Tai.

Even from what little we’ve seen, I think Qrow and Tai actually do make sense as a kind of ‘failed’ Bumbleby. A version of Blake and Yang who were never able to open up about how they felt for each other and have just been dancing around their feelings for so long they’ve just given up. A version of Blake who’s fully internalized the idea that he doesn’t deserve to be happy and the man he loves would be better off without him, and a version of Yang who at this point has just given up. And you know that parallel of Raven running away from Tai? Well I’d say it’s pretty clear that Qrow has been running away from Tai just as much.

This also smooths out any prospective reconciliation arc between Raven and Tai. I’ve seen a fair bit of debate since Volume 5 as to whether or not Raven and Tai ‘should’ get ‘back together’ or not after everything that’s happened. Instead, with this setup the reconciliation arc becomes Raven and Tai recognizing that they were never going to work as a couple and being able to accept each other as Teammates and family.

All in all, I think this interpretation of Team STRQ’s parallels to Team RWBY lines up with the characters much better. With Qrow we have an equivalent to Blake who parallels her character traits much more smoothly, and with Raven we have, well a parallel to Weiss that actually works. (let’s be honest; Qrow NEVER worked as a Team STRQ equivalent to Weiss).

Oh, and if anyone familiar with my other theories is wondering if my attraction to this interpretation of Team STRQ is at ALL influenced by the fact that it positions Summer and Raven as being both partners AND parallels to the relationship between Ruby and Weiss, and leaves things open for a certain relationship between these two that in turn sets up a certain possible origin for our main heroine AND presents foreshadowing for Ruby and Weiss themselves getting together?

You are EXACTLY right. XD

[nicosraf]

Hey Rafa!!! Will God still be a character that we hear speak throughout a&m? Your depiction of Him is both terrifying and Almighty— and its so refreshing to see the way you approach His Omniscience. Especially because I often felt (growing up) both a fear and awe at the way God is written in The Scriptures. I really enjoy that you write him the way that you do.

I wonder how strained His relationship is to the angels in Heaven after Lucifer’s debacle. I’m particularly interested in how Michael handles his faith, and how this is reflected in his servitude towards God. Poor fellow </3.

Also— one more thing I wanted to add while I’m here. One of my favorite books is George Orwell’s 1984, because of the intense themes of personal identity, free will, and self expression in the face of totalitarianism. Reading your book was so cathartic in the way that it had a lot of overlap in these themes but on a religious level…. And as a queer narrative. Let me just tell you I was SHOOK. How you disguised a hauntingly bleak Orwellian plot with so much beautiful prose is honestly beyond me. I highly doubt I will ever write anything as incredible as what I’ve read from abm. I’m honestly so surprised you don’t have like. A million followers!!!

Hello! Of course! I love writing God, like genuinely I do. I feel really similarly that the God of the Bible really horrified me, but in some kind of awe-inspiring way – especially because, to me, a lot of the horror comes from God's omnipotent nature; he can do whatever he likes, and there is nothing you can do. I'm really glad some of that comes through in ABM itself!

There are less scenes with God being actively there in A&M given that most of the story takes place on Earth, but he's still very present. He's the one giving out orders, though Samyaza and Azazel might not understand what he's really up to. Coming up for a motivation for God for this book was incredibly fun.

I think one of the big "issues" with writing God is that since he knows everything, you have to give him a reason to allow for everything. (I do play around a little with the question of whether he really does know everything, whether he really is all-powerful, but I think regardless of the answer, he still knows much more than you/angels and has so much more power that he may as well be all-knowing and all-powerful). So, God is going to allow the Watcher thing to happen. But why? What is his end goal? Maybe, who is his end goal?

I love Michael in this book. His faith is strained but it's the only thing he has. It's like he's holding onto old ropes over a pit of fire. In simple words, the Michael of ABM is dead – the sweetheart, doting Michael. You might find him unrecognizable, at least initially. I don't want to say much, but he's gone through quite a bit — the immediate aftermath of ABM's ending and what God does with him afterward. He's changed really radically from who he was, but so has Lucifer, of course.

It's fun that you bring up 1984 and totalitarianism, since I get to touch on what becomes of angel society after the fall. This isn't a spoiler because it'll be on the back of A&M, but Heaven becomes oppressive and intolerant. In the aftermath of sin, the angels have to reckon with the now eternal threat of evil in society. How will they deal with this fear? Who will they blame?

I always think ABM Heaven is more of a Brave New World of dystopia fiction; they both even have an orgy at the end (both books involve sex/sexuality as a means of control for the authoritarian power, though so does 1984). The ABM angels love their servitude. When they revolt, it's not out of this feeling that they're all secretly being heavily oppressed. I mean, they have everything. They live in paradise. When Lucifer shouts about how they don't need God and how God is denying them certain love, they go ballistic. It's almost a spoiled rebellion – at least on the surface it is, but as the reader knows, there is something deeply sinister about God, his behavior, and what he's already done. And angels needed a release for grievances, their long, meaningless existence, etc

I think A&M gives me a little more room to work with a more 1984 type of angel society, but themes of hyper-centralized power and limits of self-expression are already there. I actually love to write about fascism sksksjd, nearly all of my WIPs talk about fascism. Even the final Angels book is (planned) to say a couple things about it pretty explicitly, if I can make it not sound silly. You know, one of my personal grievances with these famous utopia-dystopia books is that they're not gay! Not trans! Almost always white. Queers are policed because of their self-expression (limp wrists, deep or high-pitched voices, gender deviance) and sexual activity; you'd think queerness, at the very least, would be at the forefront of considering the policing of identity and self expression in totalitarianism. And yet !

(One final point on Brave New World and 1984 is that they both have their own takes on religion. BNW replaces Christianity with capitalism; 1984 basically replaces Christianity with the leader of the party. I think these are both good takes for their respective books, but Abrahamic religions (really, most monotheistic religions) are unique in that they introduce the idea of a single all-powerful ruler whose sin is, quite literally, "don't do what I tell you not to."

God can kill, after all, so killing is fine, but only when he does it. Only he is allowed to be violent, or when you have his blessing. I can go on another tangent here on how Max Weber defines a state as having the monopoly on violence, and God, explicitly, has the monopoly on violence. So there's a really parallel allusion between the Christian God and states. It's interesting, isn't it !)

ANYWAY, thank you very much for liking ABM! I would take it down, frankly, if I got that many followers. That would be way too many people looking at me. Also don't say that you'll never write anything incredible. I think that you will, but you won't with that attitude!!!!! Good luck writing !!! sending u love and all

[imtryingmybeskar]

Come Home Chapter Sixteen

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Word count: 4360

Joel is still not himself, reader decides she'd rather not deal with his moods and infected abound in the woods...

Warnings for swearing and canon typical violence.

Come Home

Chapter Sixteen- Try And Try

Avoiding Joel was easier than you thought it would be, and you suspected that was because he was avoiding you too. You had no idea what excuses he was feeding Ellie about why there had been such a dramatic shift in your interactions, but you ensured that you kept yourself busy enough that they could at least partially be backed up by the fact that you really didn’t have much time to yourself.

Farming was not something that you had ever attempted in earnest before and it was easy to slide into the rhythm of it to forget your other troubles, though the work itself was backbreaking and intense. You learned about calving and farrowing, how to prepare the land for intensive crop farming, helped to fortify the paddocks and fences around the pasture, repaired chicken coops, dug drainage ditches and fetched and carried an endless supply of tools to the blacksmith for repairs and upgrades. On a smaller scale, you also started your own compost heap, began to tend herbs and chilli plants in your own house and garden and every time you went out on patrol you ensured you came home with as much foraged fruit as you could.

Ellie was distinctly disgruntled that you seemed to take to the fields in a way that she could not, but she threw herself into her assigned chores with you, the promise from Maria that she would be allowed to accompany you to hunt outside the walls a powerful incentive. She was running a gamut of emotions of her own about what was going on, spanning quiet confusion to evident exasperation, and it hurt you to see her like this. It had been three weeks since you had returned, and during that time she had made various attempts to wheedle information out of you – asking leading questions, dancing around the subject, but you kept your silence about it all. Joel was her father, you were her friend. It wasn’t your place to tell her the events of the museum trip, and you didn’t want to broach anything around the subject too deeply anyway in case you accidentally let something slip about her birthday surprise.

“Did um…did you and Joel fight?” Her voice breaks into your concentration as you crouch before a particularly fiddly bit of broken chicken wire and you stand straight, stretching your back and wiping the sweat from your brow before answering her now direct line of questioning.

“No. Why?”

“I dunno. Just seems like you’re not coming around as much anymore.”

This was true. The very few times you had gone over to spend an evening with them, you had made yourself scarce after Ellie had made her usual excuses to leave. She seemed to be the only glue holding you and Joel together right now, and you had no real desire to be around him if she wasn’t there. He was beyond taciturn now, he was actively surly. Giving clipped, begrudging, surface level conversation that was usually polite but never warm.

“No, we’re good. We’re just both busy right now. Springtime,” you add by way of weak explanation.

“And he seems a little more…on edge than usual.”

“How do you mean?”

“He just…I dunno…he’s just more irritable than usual. And you haven’t been on patrol together in ages. He’s always with Tommy and you’re always with Vanessa.”

“Well, I think the dam is playing up again,” you answer. “Tommy needs all hands that can be spared to make repairs. You know Joel is good at that stuff.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Oh come on. I’m not stupid you know.”

You sigh deeply and cast around to find a way to explain what has happened while still not quite understanding it yourself.

“I know you’re not. You’re one of the smartest people I know. We haven’t argued, I promise. The dam really does need work and spring is one of the busiest seasons. We just don’t have time to hang out right now.”

“So why’s he so pissy recently?”

You resume crouching in front of the chicken coop and bend to your work again. “That you will have to take up with him. I have no idea what goes on in that head of his.”

If you were honest with yourself, you had noticed the change in him that Ellie had. He stamped around town with an air of grumpy malice these days, though you had been telling the truth when you said that you didn’t understand why. You had been racking your brains, trying to think if you had said anything that might have upset or offended him on that night, but had come up short every time. From what you could tell, he had woken up in a bad mood to relieve you of your watch and never really come out of it. The only conclusion you could draw was that he was pissed off at you, and you could think of only one event that might have precipitated this change in attitude. Well, if he was going to act like a dick about the whole thing, you were going to give him as wide a berth as you could. You even briefly considered moving into a different house, but the thought of starting all over again and getting used to a whole new living space was so exhausting that you dismissed it almost immediately.

There had only been one encounter where you had come into close proximity with him alone in the time you had been back in Jackson and it had been painful in several ways. You had been about to take your horse out to go scouting with Vanessa. The stables were fairly dark at the best of times, so you hadn’t seen him until you had moved right into the building and your eyes had adjusted from the bright spring day outside. He was clearly just on his way out somewhere himself as he was adjusting the straps of the saddle as you approached. You stopped still, freezing as if there was a brick wall ahead of you instead of the man you had once wanted to be so close to.

“Oh. Hi,” was all you could manage in your surprise.

“Hi,” he said shortly, giving you the briefest of glances before turning his attention back to his horse and dismissing you from his gaze.

The silence that fell was, inevitably, awkward. Your brain was screaming at you to fill it, to say something, anything. Ask about Ellie. Ask about the dam. Ask how his latest guitar project was coming along. But your mouth wouldn’t obey the commands of your mind.

“Guess you’re here for Amber,” you ventured. Fucking STUPID thing to say you internally berated yourself.

“Yup.” The brevity, the coldness of his tone hit you in the chest with force. This was far beyond even the aloof Ruggedly Handsome you had known. This was sullenness bordering on being actively rude and the hurt of it flared your anger in your chest. You hadn’t said anything more, merely prepared your own horse, and you hadn’t even spared him a glance as you heard him lead Amber away into the street beyond. You had tried. Poor and pathetic as the attempt had been, you had still tried. He had shut you down entirely. He was now actively ignoring you, or was so distant that he might as well be. And you weren’t willing to keep trying if he was going to behave like that.

On the day that you’re due to take Ellie hunting you’re up bright and early to make your preparations. You’ve ensured that your bows are in top condition, that you have a good supply of arrows for the both of you, and that your back up weapons are also fully loaded and well maintained. You had hopes that you might shoot some rabbits, but just in case larger game was taken down you had sourced a sled from a neighbour, their ten year old happy to loan it now that there was no snow to play on. Just as you’re finishing packing some food for you both, a knock comes at the door.

“Come in,” you yell, assuming Ellie will come bounding in demanding to know why you aren’t ready yet. But instead –

“Hi.”

Joel’s soft voice comes from behind you, startling you so badly that you drop the knife you’re holding to the counter with a clatter.

“Hi,” you reply as you turn around, trying to keep the puzzlement out of your voice and face. Was this the start of what you feel was a well-deserved apology? Would you accept it if it was?

You allow your eyes to linger on his face. He looks more tired than usual, as if he’s not been sleeping well or pushing himself too hard when he’s awake. The fingers on his right hand are drumming against his thumb in a seemingly unconscious gesture as his eyes search your kitchen floor for something – answers to some question you couldn't fathom, or courage perhaps. Your heart softens, just a little at the sight of him so worked up and the fact that he had finally come around to visit you. Would he…maybe want to come out with you both? Recreate for the springtime those heady winter days when the three of you would escape for a few hours at a time to go to skate on the frozen pond?

“I uh…I just wanted to ask…” He trails off looking embarrassed, one hand coming up to scrub at the back of his neck, his eyes still downcast.

“Yeah?” you prompt, softly. You’re willing to forgive his weird behaviour. You realise that you always were. You just want him back in your life. To help fill your hours with laughter and jokes and friendship instead of constant work to block out the swirling eddies of painful emotion.

“I wanted to ask…are you sure about today?”

The question shocks you from your place of wistful yearning to have the old Joel back and deposits you straight into irritation with his current iteration, a development which you are entirely unable to hide in your voice given its abrupt incursion.

“What do you mean?”

“Well goin’ out alone with Ellie. Are you sure it’s such a good idea?”

What the actual fuck? After everything was he seriously still questioning your competency? Your ability to protect Ellie?

“Worried about my panic attacks again?” you ask, not bothering to keep the whip of snark out of your voice.

“Not just that,” he replies smoothly, and the calm tone of his own voice only serves to fan your irritation into anger. “She’s not been outside Jackson much since we got here. I’m just concerned-“

“We’ll be fine, Joel,” you retort in a snappish tone. “And if you really don’t trust me to protect her, then you can be the one to tell her she can’t go.”

“Wait, what?!”

Ellie is standing in your back door. You hadn’t even noticed her arrival, so focused were you on your anger at Joel. He suddenly looks even more weary, and every bit his age as he turns to talk to Ellie.

“I just think-“ he begins.

“No, Joel. Fuck that. She goes out on patrol just as much as you do now. You trusted her enough to go with her for months. And me? Who the fuck took care of you while you were fucking dying in some basement? I did. I hunted for food, I got you fucking medicine, I sewed you the fuck up. I saved your life and I kept us alive. So don’t fucking give me this shit about not being able to deal with stuff out there!”

Ellies shoulders are heaving with angry breath, her eyes spitting furious sparks at Joel. Meanwhile at the mention of their shared past he sets his jaw and you can see him grinding his teeth, biting back whatever it was he truly wanted to say to her in favour of attempting to keep his temper under control.

“And what the fuck happened then?” he asks, his voice more dangerously low than you have ever heard it before. “You nearly got raped and murdered by some goddamn cannibal freaks.”

You can feel how wide your eyes have gone at these revelations flying back and forth between them. They have never talked in depth about anything that had occurred while they had travelled together and to hear it pour out like this all at once was dizzying.

“And I escaped and fucking murdered them first!” she hurls back in a fury. “And why the fuck do you suddenly care anyway? I tried to ask you if you were okay with it and you shut me down and told me to ask Maria. Who said yes. So I’m fucking going.”

She stalks past him without sparing another glance in his direction, grabs a quiver of arrows and stamps through the front door without another word, leaving a ringing silence between you in her wake. Your anger has dissipated in the face of hers, simply unable to stand against such fury it has been swallowed up like a beach under a tsunami.

Joel is still staring at where she stood at the back door, his own shoulders heaving with his effort to keep himself under control, fists balled at his sides.

“I’ll take care of her, Joel,” you say softly. “I promise, nothing will happen to her.”

His eyes dart to you, almost as if he had forgotten you would be here in your own house. You think you see his features soften for the briefest moment before his eyes turn to flint again.

“It better not,” is all he growls before he stamps out of your back door, leaving you feeling like you’ve just been snatched up and thrown down hard by a short lived yet incredibly vicious tornado.

The ride out isn’t exactly the pleasant day you’d hoped for, despite the fact that you do manage to achieve your objective and take down a few rabbits between you as you ride through the glorious spring landscape. Ellie is still angry and alternates between sullen silences and muttering curses that you assume are directed at Joel, but might just as well be aimed at you or the world in general. You allow her time and space to calm down, but her anger seems to draw from a never-ending well and you have no idea what to say to make it better.

Finally, she snaps.

“Okay, I’m fucking sick of this shit. What the fuck happened between you two?”

“Nothing!” comes your automatic response, and you cringe slightly at how defensive the word comes out.

“Yeah? Fuckin’ sounds like it,” she retorts, angrily.

“Really. Nothing,” you insist, your voice now flat and neutral.

“Then why are you both being so goddamn weird? You can’t be busy all day every day. I know you have some evenings free. You just choose not to come over anymore. And as for him…fuck! I’ve not seen him like this since Boston. Since…since Tess…”

She trails off, her voice soft with pain and the inkling of what she thinks is understanding and you decide that you too have had enough. If Joel wants to be moody and silent, fine. You weren’t prepared to risk your friendship with her any longer by following his lead and you decide that bluntness is best at this point, reasoning that some of the truth of the matter might begin to more quickly heal the wounds that have opened up between you.

“When Joel and I went out together,” you begin, noting the way her eyes dart warily to you, “We ended up speaking about Tess. And Jacob. Who was kind of my Tess.” Her eyes have grown wide and sad and true understanding now begins to tinge her gaze.

“I’d never told anyone about Jacob before,” you continue. “And I get the impression that Joel doesn’t speak much about Tess either. I’m sure you know yourself by now that grief does odd things to people. Makes them act in unexpected ways. It was only after we spoke about her that he began to shut me out. Whatever he’s going through, maybe it’s to do with that.”

Her face hardens as she listens. “So…you knew you two weren’t okay. That it was more than just “being busy”. Why’d you lie?”

“Because it’s his business, something he’s going through and if he needs to put some distance between us, then I respect that. I thought that if I just gave him enough time we’d get back to normal again. But it’s getting worse. And as much as you’re my friend, you’re also his daughter and I don’t want to do or say anything to interfere with that relationship. I can’t talk to you about his problems because if he wanted to talk to you about them, he would. It’s not my place to be a go between. Besides, he won’t talk to me about them anyway. Or anything right now.”

Ellie gives a disbelieving snort. “You think he’d talk to me about shit? Maybe you don’t know him. And you know I’m not his actual daughter, right?”

“I think that little display from you both in the kitchen would suggest otherwise,” you smile, and you’re relieved when she gives a slightly embarrassed smile in response.

You ride along in silence for a while until Ellie pipes up again.

“You know he likes you right?”

“Are we doing the fucking high school shit again?” you groan.

“No, I just mean…he’s happier when you’re around. And whatever’s going on with him, I think it’s worse because you two aren’t hanging out anymore.”

“I can’t make him talk to me, Ellie.”

“No. But I can.”

You shake your head. “Don’t. He’ll work it out and come around.”

“He’s the most stubborn bastard I’ve ever met!” she exclaims.

“Well, you’re not wrong there,” you sigh. “Look, if it gets too much you know you can always come to mine, right? I know you’ve got your own space, but if you want company that is less grumpy I’d love to have you over. I uh…I miss you.”

Ellie smiles softly at that despite herself, and looks down at her horses mane bobbing in front of her.

“You miss him too?”

Now it’s your turn to look away. “Yeah. I do. I don’t make many friends. It hits hard when there’s one fewer around.”

She makes a noise of irritated disgust.

“You guys are so stupid. Both of you moping around. Why don’t you just talk to him?”

“When I try to talk to him he barely speaks to me,” you reply.

“Not about stupid shit. Ask him what’s going on. Make him tell you. Just fucking…I dunno, hit him till he talks.”

“You want me to punch information out of Joel Miller?” you laugh incredulously. “What, should I tie him to a chair too?”

“Okay, maybe not that,” Ellie says, rolling her eyes. “But you gotta do something. What, are you guys just gonna live next door to each other and never talk again?”

“Depends on him I guess-“ you begin, but quickly fall silent as Ellie waves an arm and then points through the trees.

A magnificent buck is standing amongst them, perfectly placid, perfectly still, and watching you with mild disinterest. Your eyes meet Ellie’s and hers are sparkling with anticipation. The deer decides you are far enough away not to be a threat and begins to root at the earth around the trees with its nose.

“You think we can take it?” you whisper, not daring to turn your head toward Ellie in case the movement spooks it.

“Yeah,” she breathes.

“Those antlers though,” you say dubiously. “We’re going to have to get it good, else we’ll be in trouble.”

“It’ll be fine,” she reassures you. “I’ve taken bucks by myself before.”

You both move slowly and in synchronicity, taking your bows from your backs and nocking arrows to them.

“Aim for its neck,” Ellie instructs, and you follow the wisdom in her suggestion. She counts down softly from three and on the word “Go” you both let loose, your arrows speeding with sure death toward the animal. They fly true, one striking it near its shoulder, the other into its neck. You suspect Ellie’s aim was the better of the two.

The buck bellows its pain and rage and begins to run, hobbled a little by its injuries.

“Come on!” Ellie shouts, and you take off after it through the trees, following the trail of blood that it leaves behind. It was far enough away, still fast enough on its feet and the budding forest is enough of an obstacle to humans on horseback that you ride for longer than you expect. Long enough that you hear a familiar scream echo across the landscape.

Fuck. If the infected reach it first they will render it inedible. If the infected reach you first you will have far bigger problems. How many there are will determine if you run or fight. And while Ellie can take care of herself you are still responsible for her. If it comes down to it, she will need to run while you remain to fight. These thoughts blaze through your mind in seconds and you cast around, looking in the direction that you think the scream came from while also still trying to follow the blood trail. You can’t see any infected, and the sound was far enough away that you have a little time, but you’re still not happy about the pressurised situation.

“We try to outrun them,” you yell to Ellie over the sound of the horses hooves. “Get to the deer. Tie it to the horse. Get out of here. I’ll cover you if they come.”

“Okay,” she says, her face betraying the anxiety that her voice does not.

The horses crest a small hill and the buck is there at the bottom, collapsed to the ground and finally defeated. You draw up sharply beside it and jump down, working together to retrieve the arrows, heave the deer into the sled and secure it with rope. But before you can secure it to the saddle, you catch movement from between the trees. Well, you did want a moving target you think wryly as you take aim with your bow again.

“Ellie, go!” you command her. “I’ll take care of them.”

In your periphery, you see her vault gracefully into the saddle and you breathe out to steady yourself, aiming at the head of the runner as it advances. A few more figures are further behind but gaining quickly as they also sprint full pelt toward you, and you hope to whatever passes for God these days that they don’t choose to follow her.

The runner goes down before you ever loose the arrow, and you realise Ellie is still there, also with her bow and beginning to pick them off from horseback.

“Get out of here!” you cry, before your own arrow hits one in the neck, dropping it as it advances.

“There’s not that many,” she pants, letting fly again and hitting a third in the face.

“I don’t fucking care. Go!” you reiterate.

“I’m not leaving you!” she yells back.

The horses are beginning to panic at the noise and the disruption and you hope that they won’t decide to flee before you have dispatched all enemies. A fourth goes down. A fifth. And then…sudden stillness and peace except for the pounding of blood in your ears and the heavy breathing of you both. You take the opportunity to draw your gun just in case this is merely a lull rather than cessation.

“Fuck,” Ellie says shakily as she dismounts again. “Fucking assholes.”

You’re inclined to agree, but you don’t intend to let her know.

“When I say you go, you go,” you frown.

“I helped!”

“You did, but I could have coped. What the fuck would happen if you got hurt out here?! Apart from anything, Joel would never let me see you again. That’s if I didn’t have to put you down because you got infected, of course.”

“Not gonna happen,” she says sullenly, her face set in a mask of defiant anger. Her resistance to believing that she could get seriously hurt out here sparks your anger, and you begin to question whether Joel was right about letting her out of Jackson. Perhaps she really wasn’t ready for the responsibilities it entailed.

“Of course, because no one ever gets bit out in the world,” you snarl, your fear for her honing your anger even sharper. “This whole time it was all just some collective delusion-“

Your sarcastic tirade is interrupted by another flash of movement behind her and you shove Ellie sideways forcefully. The infected still has your arrow lodged in its neck as it reaches for you, hungrily seeking to make more of itself. You punch it hard in the jaw and it rocks backward, but remains on its feet. As you raise your pistol it sways back toward you, lunging with arms outstretched. You step backward and stumble, and when you fall it feels like the world moves in slow motion. The disgusting, bloody, fungus infested face of the ex-person above you, the landscape moving until you could see too few trees and too much sky. And then pain. A sharp, biting, insistent pain in your shoulder that spreads a numbness across your back and arm. Your vision grows super sharp for just a moment, painfully so, the sun above making the blue of the sky and the fluffy white of the clouds stand stark against one another before blackness crowds the edge of your vision.

The nightmare face above you. A scream of fearful rage. A muffled bang. The sharp copper tang of blood. Cool patters across your face and a spreading warmth below you. And then…darkness.

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[jesncin]

Hi Jesncin! Long-time appreciator of your Supes fanart, first-time anon. As someone that also has a lot of love for American Alien, Smashes the Klan, and thought MAWS was pretty ok/good, my vibe is that the generally warm response to the show stems from it being a consolation/reprieve to the dour state of non-comic Supes media from the last decade, though certainly as you’ve pointed out it could benefit from being less cowardly about what it wants to say politically and taking advantage of that less restrained Adult Swim label. 

I really like your assessment of immigrant solidarity between a proudly Asian Lois and Supes being the factor that makes him appealing to her. However, I'm also curious how you think that would change if you specifically throw in conflicting generational statuses into the mix, and perhaps remove that aspect of cultural pride from Lois' character while maintaining her immigrant status. 

While I certainly don’t think it was the authorial intent, part of me wants to read the downplaying of MAWS Lois’ heritage as possibly reflective of a contradictory feeling of disconnect, intentional or otherwise, to one’s native culture as an early-generation immigrant—similar to how Tommy Lee is presented as eagerly assimilative at the start of Smashes the Klan. As someone that is native Chinese but spent most of my childhood and adolescence abroad in predominantly English-speaking countries (without being subjected to excessive prejudice), I’m personally in a similar boat as Tommy of not possessing an innate fondness for my heritage beyond the occasional surface-level ornamentation and even sometimes even having derisive things to say about it. In my own experience this inverse difference in valuing cultural identity between first and second gen immigrants can be a real obstacle in forming relationships between them.

As Clark was wholly raised Kansan and typically knows so little about Kryptonian culture yet wants nothing more than to understand it, I think it makes for a more dramatically contrasting dynamic if he disagrees with a first generation immigrant like me or (theoretically) MAWS Lois on the value of discovering/retaining heritage. If the show had the stones to more concretely define her generational status, I think a Lois that shamelessly couldn’t care less about valuing her native cultural identity would have a more tangible angle for why she isn’t able to initially empathize with what Clark goes through in MAWS, despite them having that commonality. That by itself could be something that upsets the Clark/Supes/Lois dynamic in the beginning but could be reconciled with time and dialog going forward.

Anyways, I really appreciate your art and your thoughts on MAWS. Girl Taking Over is also on my list to check out now, thanks for the reco!

Why hello there! Welcome happy to have you here. Yes, read Girl Taking Over! It's very good.

Yeah, I've said before that things like the Snyderverse has burnt a lot of Super fans out into the habit of celebrating and fixating on the shallowest characterizations. But again, we've got to ask ourselves what story are we celebrating! Because it's bizarre that even the radio show arc Superman Smashes the Klan is based on (in the 40s) is way more political than this supposed Adult Swim show is in 2023. Never mind that shows like Supergirl didn't have nearly as warm a reception, and it's a far better written show.

I feel there's a misunderstanding here, never in my essay did I say I wanted a "proudly Asian Lois". In fact, my suggestions leaned towards her dealing with some manner of assimilation, cultural distance or even shame. I praised this aspect in Girl Taking Over, and I've written her that way for Indonesian Lois too- because I think that's a stronger parallel to what Clark allegorically represents. It'd make the hope they give each other meaningfully go both ways. At most in my essay I've said MAWS!Lois should at least be sentimental to her hanbok, and that her reactions to things should be informed by her Asian American experiences. Nothing to do with cultural pride. A desire to see an Asian Lois inspired to connect to her culture again sure, but not pride.

While I see where you're coming from, I caution projecting a read where no effort was made to tell that kind of story. I've said in my essay that it isn't impossible to write an Asian American character with internalized issues regarding how they perceive themselves and other marginalized groups, but that requires community specificity and time to explore that specificity because otherwise you've got the optics of Black Character Is Racist to The Blue Elves. The show failed to express that with Sam Lane, so we can't project that being the case for Lois. In Smashes the Klan, Tommy's actions are a result of following his dad's desire to assimilate. Gene Yang made it a point that Roberta and her mom still cling to their culture and cope with it differently.

I think ultimately even if you try to repurpose Season 2 with this dynamic, it just doesn't work with what S1 set up. Lois isn't detached or resentful of her culture, she's just whitewashed. If she had complicated feelings about her heritage, you'd think that would be explored when she chose to wear a hanbok to a party- or when her dad came over they'd showcase the generational divide they had. MAWS wrote a white character pizza and sprinkled Asian toppings on top, with no intention to create any kind of narrative.

I get not having the desire to connect with some aspects of your heritage, I feel that way towards my East Asian ancestry. And I've certainly met Asian Americans who can be viciously judgmental of more culturally connected Asians. But unless that kind of thinking is unpacked, especially with how cruelly xenophobic it can be to other immigrants- I can't help but reject it as a dynamic. Let alone a romance.

Girl Taking Over is largely about the dynamic between Lois and her frenemy roommate Niki- someone loud and proud of her Asian identity (that it makes Lois uncomfortable). The story works because it unpacks both of their resentment towards each other as foils. I don't see that happening in MAWS. Clark and Lois don't have that foil, Lois is just allegorically bigoted towards a guy who's trying.

[nautilusopus]

nobody else is writing meta analysis for vivarium so i guess i have to do it

Vivarium is a 2019 horror film that the internet doesn’t seem to know what to think of. Most YouTube videos as per usual don’t wanna engage with it on anything more than an extremely literal surface level (hence the abundance of “VIVARIUM EXPLAINED” videos that just recap the plot to you as though you can’t see with your eyeballs that yes, he put on the nametag, that sure is what happened onscreen, yes I fucking get it the boy is like a cuckoo-esque brood parasite I GET IT) that ultimately devolve into speculative fanfiction about how effectively the aliens can take over the world. There are a few people here and there a little more willing to at least engage with what the movie has to say, and from there you get takes about how it’s about how the golden capitalist ideal of the suburban nuclear family is a banal hellscape, which I’d say is generally pretty accurate. Tom spends his entire time at Number 9 labouring, digging a hole while Gemma looks after the boy because he doesn’t know what else to possibly do with himself, an action that wears him down and ultimately costs him his life, and for all his trouble all he’s found is the body of the last guy who tried to labour his way out of this situation. All he’s done is created is a grave for his “offspring” to dump him into. 

Like, as far as Capitalism Bad stories go this one’s pretty on-the-nose, and a lot of the people griping that the story was confusing are mostly the ones that seems to have missed this. (For an even longer tangent about how a lot of scifi stories aren’t going to make sense to you if you resist the very obvious thematic readings they’re giving you because you think things can’t be that deep I recommend Dan Olson’s excellent video on Annihilation.)

Occasionally, though, you get people also mentioning how it’s a little about animal rights, and even more especially about nature versus nurture. For the most part, Tom and Gemma are not kind to the boy. They (understandably) have nothing but contempt towards him. They openly discuss how creepy he is when he’s within earshot. At one point they try to lock him in the car to starve just to see if whoever comes to get his body can be forced to let them go, and they only back out on the plan when the fact that he looks and acts like a child in that moment gets to Gemma and she lets him out. Eventually, the boy grows into an emotionally distant young adult that locks Tom out of the house to die and doesn’t seem to give two shits about their suffering now that he’s bigger and stronger than his “parents”. Surely, we think, if Gemma and Tom had been kinder to him, he would have grown into a kinder adult, even if he was an alien? Are they not perpetuating this literal cycle of violence? 

And with regard to the nature versus nurture reads, I actually directly disagree and find it at odds with the Capitalism Bad message, because my read is this:

No amount of kindness or understanding would have turned the boy into a good person, and acting like it would have is in fact part of the trap. Gemma and Tom would have wound up used up and dead either way, because thematically speaking, what the boy is there to do is to collect data.

More under the cut, I have a lot of opinions about this.

The boy’s creepy alien gimmick is mimicry. It’s what the realtor (p clearly a member of the same species) does when trying to entice Tom and Gemma into Number 9. The realtor is better at saying context-appropriate things than the boy is, but still slips up every now and then, and even so his mannerisms aren’t quite right. At best, he sounds like he’s regurgitating a script (a bit more admissible given he’s trying to sell something). At worst, he parrots Gemma’s “no, not yet” back to her in exactly her voice. Everything he’s saying, it’s clear he’s going through motions without any real understanding of what those motions are, beyond, “This is the thing you say to sell a house.”

The boy is demonstrably worse at it. He’ll parrot entire conversations back to the people who had them regardless if it makes sense to do so. He rarely speaks in his own voice, instead chopping up various words he’s heard from both parents. He doesn’t seem to have much sense for what is and isn’t appropriate to mimic (to the point of Gemma quite transparently tricking him into revealing he’s an alien outright), much less what makes sense for him to mimic. 

He develops this skill gradually over the course of the movie, gets a bit better at putting together sentences people can actually reply to. But even then, he doesn’t seem to engage with the context overall of the conversation. After aforementioned alien reveal, with Tom growing sicker by the day, Gemma begins to cry and back away in horror, and we get this exchange:

The boy: Are you [overwhelmed] again, Mother? Gemma: I am not your mother! The boy: Are you [overwhelmed]? Gemma: I want to go home. The boy: Silly mother. You are home!

There’s no real engagement with the actual conversation at hand. This is the kind of script a reply bot runs. It emulates emotion the same way it emulates everything else. 

His nature is reflected by the surroundings: The identical miles of houses with framed pictures of those houses on their own walls, with no real understanding of what people do and don’t want in the aesthetics of a house. The food that looks correct, but has no flavour or nutritional value, eventually leading to not just Tom’s death, but eventually Gemma’s. The entire world, from the Number 9 house to the suburbs of Yonder in general with its fake clouds, to the boy and its interactions, are fake, hollow, and the kind of thing an alien with no real care for the real human experience beyond perpetuating the system’s own growth would create.

And at this point hopefully some of you have noticed, we’ve seen this exact behaviour pattern before.

i’m quoting the reply on that second one here by @dukeofankh​ because it’s extremely relevant to this entire thing:

I’m honestly reblogging this again because the more I stare at it, the more I feel like this is staggeringly relevant art.

Like, so much of modern capitalist marketing is the construction of these superficially personal narratives. Giving the sense, not only that the brand fits in with your identity, but that it is almost a sentient individual itself that has a personal relationship with you. Corporations have personalities. They want to be your friend, and the reason that the entire internet economy runs on the currency of data right now is that the only way to prop up the illusion that they care about you is by already having the information about you that real people would gain by paying attention

But the only way they can collect and sort all that data is with computers, without any actual humans involved past setting up the parameters and pressing “go.” And computers are fucking idiots.

Which leaves us here: this false, saccharine message of togetherness and community–community between you and your friends but more importantly between all of you and Facebook–stripped fucking bare by the fact that the cookie-cutter algorithm can’t tell the difference between friends supporting and caring about each other and Thanos with a dumptruck ass.

The boy is here to collect data, and he collects it and regurgitates it as though it all has equal relevance to the situation at hand. 

He reacts with the same polite indifference to open contempt, genuine warmth and an attempt to bond with him, terror directed at him, and pleas for mercy from him. Later on when we get a glimpse of the “inner workings” of the house, we see the boy watching another set of parents rawdogging the shit out of each other, and applauding appreciatively with the same blank amusement as he applauds to everything else. He sees Gemma and Tom dancing to the music from their radio outside, trying to have one bright moment with one another despite the grim circumstances they’re in, and he immediately inserts himself into the moment with zero awareness that he isn’t wanted here (granted that’s also extremely a little kid thing to do lol). 

Which leads to the fact that that isn’t to say he doesn’t have his moments of personality. He smiles at positive attention (as well as negative attention), he enjoys interaction. He throws a tantrum when he’s told he can’t watch fucked up alien meat television at 3 am and turns it right back on. About the only time we get a genuine reaction from him is when he gets locked in the car to starve.

But then, so do things like Alexa, or Siri, or Cortana. You can have little conversations with it. It can tell jokes. You can ask it the meaning of life and it’ll tell you 42. You can insult it and it’ll do an EPIC SNAPBACK OMG SO SASSY. The people who designed it want you to view it as a friend, even as it sits there and spies on you and integrates itself more and more into your life. 

Gemma lets him out of the car because (also understandably) she can’t bring herself to kill something that looks like a child. Later on, when she speaks with a dying Tom, she wonders why she didn’t kill him when he was still small. Tom tells her, “Because you’re a good person.” Their problems could have maybe (I mean probably not we’ll never know, at the very least Tom wouldn’t have died of exposure maybe) been solved if they just locked the thing in the car and ignored it, but in the end they still wound up viewing it as a person. 

Tom and Gemma openly comment that the boy is always, always watching them, knowing full well they’re within earshot of him. He doesn’t retaliate for this, they’re never punished for saying it. Why would he? It’s what he’s there to do. He knows they know he’s watching. Water is wet. The boy watches.

Of course, when he is older, and better at putting together conversations that sound like an actual person, Gemma is openly terrified of him. His mannerisms don’t change, but conversationally he seems to at least understand whats being said to him, and is willing to ask more in-depth questions, graduation from, “What’s a dog?” to “Why did you say ‘you’re welcome’?”

By the end of the movie, the boy matures into a man. He’s gotten a bit better at knowing which words to parrot at what time, something we can watch him improve upon as the movie goes, and still insists, to Gemma’s last breath, that she’s his mother and that she is home. Gemma dies telling him, “I’m not your fucking mother.”

This is maybe the only other genuine reaction we get from the boy: a disappointed, “Whatever,” before he zips up the bodybag and chucks her into the hole as well. He cleans up the house for the next occupants and leaves. He takes the now-dying realtor’s nametag and puts it on himself, folds up the old realtor and stuffs it in a drawer, and takes his place in the office ready to lure the next couple to the suburbs of Yonder, with words that almost, but not quite, convince you he’s a person, and by that point it’s too late. 

The boy was only ever there to make sure someone would be in Number 9 to make sure someone would be there to raise the next boy to make sure someone would be led to Number 9 to raise the next boy. 

And who among us haven’t left this exact message, or even said this exact thing out loud, to the bot hanging over our shoulder watching us constantly, politely asking if we want help or suggested content?

TLDR anyway yeah the movie is “capitalism bad nuclear family in suburbia is a banal hellscape” still but there’s LAYERS you see

[blade-that-was-broken]

I have a HC that brozone had like stage parents like the kind of parents that only had kids so that they’re kids could do the child star thing and they could live vicariously through their kids success. and also so those kids could make a ton of money that the parents could live off of. Like the parents of the kids on toddlers in tiaras.

We know that JD took on the role of raising his younger brothers and that he saw himself as their main caretaker, but this is contrasted by the fact that his brothers don’t seem to see him as a parental figure and at least in the third movie seem to get annoyed and angry when JD tries to act like an authority figure in there lives. I interpret this as JD raised these kids but the parents were still around they were generally just uninvolved in their kids lives beyond the surface level bare minimum and shirked most of their responsibilities onto JD. In a JD did all the work but the parents took all the credit kind of way that led to JD simultaneously raising Bruce, Floyd and Clay without being a legitimate authority figure to them.

I also think that JD would not get baby branch involved in the band that young if he had a choice in that decision, both as someone who grew up in fame as a child star and knows how stressful and toxic that environment is and as a perfectionist who is very concerned with the bands performances going flawlessly. toddlers are messy and make mistakes and generally I don’t think JD would trust a toddler to perform to his standards and listen to him as a band leader during the performance. JD was stressed about the idea of baby branch being nervous and messing up the performance in the flashback I don’t think he would let him do it at all if it was his choice.

However I think that if brozone had toxic stage parents who decided to make baby branch join the band simply because he’s cute and marketable and would make them money then left all the actual logistics behind that move to JD to figure out that would fit with teenager JDs controlling, protective, and perfectionist character traits. Because people who feel like they truly have control over their lives and actually have the authority to make decisions in their life usually don’t micromanage everything and everyone they delegate. JDs controlling behavior fits more with a teenager who is desperately trying to cling to what little control he has in his life, which is the logistics of managing the band.

Essay over sorry for rambling

No worries! I love a good ramble.

It's not a bad headcanon either. It would make sense.

I don't think I have a specific headcanon for canon Brozone and their parents, probably because I have shifted to aus but it would make sense. Especially with all the dark turns we see when it comes to children stars/actors/singers and their parents.

Kids... don't often see their older siblings as authority figures, even when they are. They don't always recognize that. Don't get me wrong, sometimes they do but often times they don't really. So I can absolutely see John taking on that role and the others never really seeing it, even when they get older. Absolutely I could see that. Their parents doing what they could to keep appearances but all the real stuff landed on him. It is a tough spot to be in when your siblings don't see you as an authority figure that you are trying to be/need to be.

I could see that too. Even though troll aging/maturing seems wildly unpredictable, strange and weird in comparison to human toddlers, I could see, if this concept was the case, John not wanting him to be involved. Not only because of their parents exploiting them but also the perfectionism thing. It's not that he doesn't love Branch, but well, who trusts a toddler for this type of thing?

If there was toxic stage parents (which I think if they had stage parents they would have to be toxic, there is no way that family ended up the way they did without that if this was the case) I think you would be onto something with Branch being involved. We all know that Rosiepuff said Branch's voice was like an angel's so if she thought that, chances were their parents did too.

JD's whole thing when he left was his frustration and that his brothers were a lot of responsibility and considering he can't be that old, I can understand that. Coupling with the fact that he's probably not seen much as an authority figure in this case, as well as the pressure and strain he was under with that set of types of parents... yikes. Talk about a recipe for disaster.

Losing control for someone who struggles with perfectionism and even just being overwhelmed with reasonability is a nightmare. If this was the case, my only surprise is that there wasn't a blowup sooner. Which in that case, the reason it probably went on for so long is because John is protective. He always has been (I will die on this hill cause there is no way after 20 years of radio silence JD picks himself up and hightails it to try and save his brother that he isn't wildly protective)

[stilldancewithyou]

I really think they’re not gonna do J cheating in s3 which on one hand I’m fine with since they made him bi and as a bi person myself I don’t want to see that awful stereotype on screen for the billionth time (granted I also feel like it was so tokenized because it was such a blip and I don’t think they’ll ever mention his attraction to men ever again or explore that in a meaningful way but hey maybe they’ll surprise me since I have low expectations when it comes to TV and bi representation; personally I think Gavin has great chemistry with Sean but I’m not sure they’d ever explore j/s since people may find it weird he’d bounce between the Conklin siblings and as of now Steven is straight in the show iirc) but also I read that s2 follows the book very closely according to some extras on set and it would make me mad if they show Conrad’s very human mistakes and then sugar coat j’s so he still looks like the “nice” guy…

I can’t say j is my favorite but I also liked that the books kinda went beyond his nice guy persona and showed how this behavior can be a red flag (bc there’s too many shows that romanticize the guy who definitely sees the girl as the prize and let them end up together and like sorry to Jere who I know loved belly in his own way but his romantic intentions with her started off wrong since deep down it was about getting back and stealing something from Conrad and that just turned me off to them romantically (I do like their friendship)) but then also show him overcome it (I.e. letting belly go at their wedding day and presumably finding happiness since he was mentioned to have a plus one at the b/c wedding) I think this would be nice to see on tv but idk

granted I feel like they have shown in s1 the darker sides of J already and people ignore it (ex. The firework scene like no jeremiah physical violence is not the answer to your problems😒 and him yelling and projecting at Conrad saying he only sees belly as a competition and then scheming to separate them) but idk I don’t know what other problem aside from the cheating that they could throw between b/j to have them on the brink of a breakup that leads to their sham engagement happen for s3 (my worst fear is they’ll make belly the cheater to take the heat off of J since many of his Stans always say belly was projecting when she claimed him to cheat bc “technically” they were broken up and she was still in love with C and this would will further villanize her relationship with Conrad and thus prop up j… and that would remind me of how dirty the second to all the boys movie did LJ by not showing the very real mistakes Peter made in their relationship and making it look like she just freely bounced between John and Peter for no reason)… anyways this is a ramble but I’ve just been thinking about it since s2 is nearing (and in my heart I need it to be s3 already lol)

okay I have thought long and hard about this specific topic and I hear what you're saying. but I still firmly believe the cheating thing is going to happen in the show. I just...idk. there's just no way around it tbh. It's kind of like having Susannah miraculously live...the story wouldn't be the same. I think the cheating went a lot deeper than the surface level people are stuck at, at least in my interpretation of the book. The whole thing about it is that Jeremiah found out that Belly saw Conrad in Cousins in December and she never told him, and Jere spent months secretly brooding about that and being angry (somewhat rightfully) and the way he says things in the books I feel like Jeremiah thought/assumed that something happened between Conrad and Belly (cause they were alone at the beach house!) and he thinks that's why she never told him she saw Conrad. So I feel like after the whole fight about Cabo and Belly not wanting to go (bc she wanted to be in Cousins instead!) Jere went to Cabo pissed and jealous and slept with what's her face out of spite, to get back at Belly. at least that's my interpretation. But he obviously ended up realizing it was messed up and tried to make it better with the engagement. And then as a double whammy to Jeremiah, because of the engagement, Belly ends up spending the summer alone in Cousins with Conrad planning the wedding which probably made Jere even more angry (it's just so ironic lol).

I'm also with you on the point about Jeremiah being portrayed as the nice, perfect guy up until the 3rd book, and I really hope the show captures what the book did. Because they have worked overtime showing how perfect Jeremiah is and how he's the better option and trying to sell him as the best person. I think the way you get to see his flaws and mistakes (which are very human but also he was a jerk for a lot of the 3rd book outside of the cheating thing and ppl are blind to that I feel, like everyone is stuck on just the cheating). I also think it was super important for Belly to see Jere's flaws. She never truly appreciated what she had with Conrad and the person he is because she couldn't see past his very human mistakes (which all happened when his mother was dying and immediately after her death!!!) and she got so stuck on what Conrad did wrong she looked over and felt like Jeremiah was perfect and seemed so much better, funnier, happier, etc, etc, it was very much a "the grass is always greener on the other side" type of situation. The show definitely did show a lot more darker, more flawed sides of Jeremiah pretty early, but I still think they also worked really hard making him look perfect like in the books (up until book 3). I also think that's partly intentional, part of the point is that Belly had very idealized and romanticized ideas of both boys and what dating them and being around them all the time would be like and her bubble needed to be burst by reality.

anyway, all of that is to say that I still firmly believe the cheating thing is going to happen in the show. So prepare yourself while you have time. There's just nothing else that could compare to that to create not just the sham engagement but the angst, the jealousy, the anger and everything and then the way Conrad finds out about the cheating and immediately runs to Belly, all pissed off at Jere...I don't think anything else could get us there.

also as a side note: Jere and Steven did have good chemistry, but also I LOVE THEIR FRIENDSHIP TOO MUCH TO GO THERE. The friendship between Steven, Jere, and Conrad is so important and special and I feel like in the books they're presented as being like brothers. I don't think I could handle another lifelong friendship being ruined tbh (cause Belly and Jeremiah also had a great friendship and I loved it in the books but the show kinda fastforwarded over it). And I don't think it's something that could ever be explored because it gets too close the whole premise/storyline of Belly dating the Fisher brothers. But there's no harm in shipping! I personally thought Jeremiah and Taylor had really great chemistry as well (Taylor and Steven were also good together and I do love them) and I wanted to see more moments with Jere and Taylor. I am also still salty that the show basically erased Jere and Taylor's whole brief dating thing and some of the best flashbacks from the first book. But they're clearly going in the Steven/Taylor direction for now so I'm not getting my hopes up.

[winderlylandchime]

I have a question for you that might be a bit too much but I was watching QAF and started asking myself the same thing and I remember that I really liked reading your Brian Kinney post or something similar that was very interesting so I figured I’d ask you too. What are your favorite and least favorite things about the characters from QAF? Not just Britin but like all of them. Because all of them are perfect in their own way but also flawed so I was wondering what someone else might pick :)

Hello dear sweet anon!

Thank you for this ask, I love these types of questions (as everyone now knows, lol).

As you said, and I think it’s worth repeating, these characters all have good qualities and bad qualities and that is so real. None of us is perfect and all of us have bad qualities. I think that is what made this show so compelling (and why we’re all still so obsessed 20 years later). These characters were real (even if the situations they were in - take down a corrupt politician?! - were sometimes not the most realistic) and we could relate to all of them in some way.

The Characters of Queer as Folk…

Michael Novotny

Good - he is clearly a person who cares a lot about the people he loves - his mother, his friends, his uncle, his partner. He is a fandom guy. Here we all are talking about a show that was on the air 20 years ago, and this guy is obsessed with Captain Astro and other superheroes. He is one of us.

Bad - he has an idea of who people are that is very fixed and therefore when he wants the best for the people he loves, it is sometimes not based in who they are as a person in the here and now. Brian doesn’t do love or boyfriends, therefore he can never do love or boyfriends. This is very relatable, so many of us have trouble updating our idea of who someone is over the course of a long term relationship (platonic or romantic). He tends towards very codependent relationships. Also, go back and watch the beginning of his relationship with Ben. I’m not talking about breaking up early in their relationship about his serostatus, I’m talking about after they reunite and Debbie disapproves and Michael makes all these (very good) points about dating Ben but he does it… in front of Ben. CRINGE. AWKWARD. I WOULD ACTUALLY DIE IF SOMEONE DID THAT TO ME.

Ted Schmidt

Good - he is intelligent and kind, he has a biting sense of humor, he is loyal.

Bad - he has the world’s lowest self-confidence. Rather than just own his love of accounting and opera, he is ashamed of it. He has remarkable growth in this respect over the course of the series and I would argue he is the character that grows the most (and whose growth is not erased by the end of the series).

Emmett Honeycutt

Good - oh my god I love him so much. He is a femme queen and he lets his flame burn bright. He is kind and funny and can take a joke and dish it right back.

Bad - oof this one is hard because I do love him so much. I think he tends to want to shy away from the darkness and as a result when a loved one is going through a dark time (ahem Ted), he struggles to be able to help much beyond something surface level. His understanding of substance abuse disorders could be improved. Also, the party he plans for Ben’s birthday is full cringe racist.

Debbie Novotny

Good - she is fiercely protective and an ally to the gay boys of Liberty Avenue. She does not back down from a challenge. She has had to be strong as a young single mother and she did a good job with what she had to work with.

Bad - as a young single mother she and her son have a codependent relationship and this models that type of relationship for her son to develop with other people. Her protectiveness knows no loyalty, except to her son. Her “adoptive son” Brian gets the short end of the stick when his needs are in conflict with her son’s. Which makes sense, but then don’t pretend to be a mother to Brian. She thinks she knows better than people about what is good for them and what they need and this sometimes extends beyond advice giving (telling Brian to tell Justin he loves him after zucchini man) to taking action (as @kinnenvy rightly points out - telling Joan that Brian has cancer). Ma’am, you do not do that. Also, she uses the word fag (which I have no problem with queer people reclaiming but she is… not actually queer) and dates a cop, so she loses major ally points in my book.

Ben Bruckner

Good - he is very good looking. He is smart and driven. He brings an alternative perspective to the group. He honors who Michael is and allows him to let his fandom freak flag fly (we should all have partners and friends who do this, btw).

Bad - toxic positivity thy name is Ben Bruckner. Why does Ben have a flirtation with steroids? Because his “look on the bright side, glass half full, be positive” mentality does not allow for any negativity. And life has negativity in it. We need to acknowledge it and not push it away in order to deal with it. His understanding of Buddhism is incomplete and lacking (from my own study of Buddhism). Also, he is really freaking boring.

Melanie Marcus

Good - she is smart, she knows who she is as a Jewish dyke, and she is unapologetic. She is apparently a lawyer who specializes in everything from civil rights to custody to entrapment/indecent exposure (whatever Vic was charged with). She is able to change her mind (about getting married, etc.)

Bad - she cheats on her partner and then when her partner cheats on her she decides it’s different because biphobia. She is jealous of Brian and this warps her image of him. She is stubborn.

Lindsay Peterson

Good - she is kind and she loves fiercely. I like her relationship with Justin and the way she mentors him.

Bad - oof. I cannot scream enough about her decision to have Brian father Gus. First of all, her partner is jealous/doesn’t like him. I don’t know what type of long term relationships you’ve had, anon, but this is not how you treat your partner. Yes, she’s the one carrying the fetus but her partner should get veto power over the sperm donor (or father… more on that in a second). I cannot even imagine doing that to my spouse. We even had a brief moment of insanity where we contemplated having a kid so that isn’t something so difficult to imagine. Like, how do you do that? Then that brings me to her relationship with Brian. Maybe Lindsay is bisexual but can’t acknowledge because of biphobia (from the writers first and foremost, like I know biphobia was super acceptable in the early 2000s but c’mon, do better!), but having a crush on someone who will never love you back is something to work out in therapy. It’s not something to allow to go unchecked and wreck your relationship with your partner. Her crush, I would say, is worse than Michael’s because it’s almost like she doubts Brian when he says he is not interested in women. (Let’s reverse the situation and imagine a man constantly flirting with a lesbian and telling her how he imagined they would wind up together and how gross and boundary crossing that would seem.) Also, she has him in this box (Peter Pan) and again, refuses to acknowledge that he might grow and change. She gives him mixed messages - you need to grow and be a good partner to Justin but also this isn’t you and you need to remain you. Another mixed message? Oh you’ll just be the sperm donor, make a cameo appearance, etc. but then “You need to spend time with your son.” Obviously, people raise kids in all types of relationship configurations. But from my understanding, Brian was going to donate the sperm and Lindsay and Melanie would be the parents. So is he the sperm donor or is he the father? Both Brian and Melanie would like to know.

[ailani-reillata]

The Acolyte - Chapter Eight: The Coronation

Oc Centric - Multichapter - 10k - Rated T

Summary: The Separatist Crisis has reached its peak. War looms throughout the galaxy, casting a dark, bloody shadow over the thinning ranks of the Jedi Order. The end of civilization has already started. This is the story of Jedi Acolyte Ailani Réillata. Her end has just begun.

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven,

AO3 Version

(Please see the AO3 version for the full list of tags and warnings BEFORE reading.)

———

"Easy is the path to wisdom for those not blinded by themselves."

“What do you think he wants?”

Barriss Offee’s voice trailed like a melody through the Senate halls, her footsteps and concern following Ailani Réillata as if she were a shadow.

How strange. Usually, Ailani was the one tagging along. Though the two of them saw very little of each other these days, Barriss still went out of her way to check in on Ailani and catch up. She and her Master had been sent to the far reaches of the war, aiding in healing and relief, all while Ailani remained here, refusing both ease and comfort. 

She withheld a bitter and overtired scoff, her tone dry. “Who knows,” She shrugged, eyes still trained on her feet. “I think everyone simply likes to watch me run in circles.” 

The sharp words sat in the air momentarily, unchallenged and cold. She was so tired. This was her ninth visit to the Senate building this week. The week before, she had been here seven times and  the week before that, it had been twelve useless visits. Twelve .

Ailani was busy enough at the temple. Between her holocron and reports, her time was filled. She needed more time to sort through how she felt about the holocron of prophecy and her indescribable lack. She didn’t need to waste time here. She wanted to waste time in her room.

But at least she didn’t have to walk this time.

“You know that’s not true,” Barriss replied kindly, softly, gently, attempting to redirect the rage that simmered at the edges of Ailani’s sense, “We’re all doing extra legwork these days. There must be a good reason.”

Ailani only hummed in reply, not trusting her voice. That was reasonable, she knew. Everyone was worn thin. Especially Barriss. Ailani knew she shouldn’t be complaining but the bitterness fell anyway. She was so lonely now, so guilt ridden and so lonely. The only person she talked to anymore was R3, but even he had better things to do.

And everyone seemed content to watch her spin. Especially the Council. Especially the Chancellor. 

Chancellor Palpatine, as kind as he was, as helpful and as supportive as he was, Ailani found him to be…ignorant. His knowledge of Jedi oversight seemed surface-level, and he seemed all too happy to pile work beyond their station onto her desk. Perhaps Palpatine trusted her too much or was too familiar with her. Maybe that was why he spun her in circles of useless paperwork. Perhaps he was being protective. Sometimes, Ailani wondered if he saw her as a Jedi or if he still saw that young girl he met years ago in the Theed Palace. 

Did she look like her Mother? Was that it? Ailani wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She had been thinking of her parents a lot lately, replaying the dream of her Father and seeing glimpses of her Mother in every political speech. The war had unlocked something strange in her chest, slowly uncovering long-lost memories. They hurt more than Ailani had expected. They weren’t supposed to hurt.

“You’re going to pass his office,” Barriss spoke softly, tapping Ailani’s shoulder and pulling her from her thoughts. Reality blossomed before Ailani’s eyes again, and her feet halted. 

“Right.” Ailani replied, still hazy, “You don’t have to wait for me. I can walk back.”

“My meeting isn’t for another twenty minutes,” Barriss offered, “I can wait.”

She was trying to be helpful again. Kind. Ever the healer. She offered to drive. She offered lunch. She offered a ride home. It made Ailani’s skin crawl. Each act of kindness crept under her flesh and wormed at her blood, itching and prying uncomfortably. She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve it. She was a terrible person, and an even worse friend. She wanted to protest again but bit her tongue and nodded instead. 

Turning, Ailani hit the doorbell near the Chancellor’s door, staring into the cool metal that faced her as she tried to ignore the way Barriss’s presence in the Force lingered behind her. 

Mercifully, the door opened almost instantly, and Ailani slipped inside. The office shone as brightly as sunlight cracking through a thunderstorm as the Nabooian maroon that wove through the room leaked and seeped into her soul.

“You wished to see me, my lord?” Ailani spoke, half introduction, half escape from the uncomfortable. Her footsteps were slightly hurried, familiar, and yet uncertain. This is how it always was, even when she wasn’t selfishly escaping awkward conversations. 

Though she had known him since childhood—for he had been appointed senator during her Mother’s reign, and though so much of her time was spent and wasted in his office, Ailani had not yet allowed herself to feel comfortable in his presence. She did not feel comfortable in anyone's presence. However, it was easier to fake ease when the eyes of the Council did not join her. 

“Oh yes,” Chancellor Palpatine looked up from his desk, the haze of sunlight leaking across the windows and onto his face, illuminating the friendly smile that grew across his features. “Come in, dear child, come in.”

Ailani eased into the office, dropping into a low bow. She only remembered glimpses from childhood, but she did recall meeting Palpatine when he was a young senator. She remembered her Mother’s cold hand on her shoulder, forcing Ailani into a bow. Even without her Mother around now, Ailani found herself keeping the habit. 

The Chancellor got up from his desk, dusting off his robes, “We must begin preparations for our trip. My office tells me you have not responded to any of our messages.”

“Our trip?” Ailani frowned, flicking through memories and moments in her mind, scanning for something familiar. Nothing came back. “What trip?”

“You mean the Council did not tell you?” Palpatine furrowed his brow, deep lines settling into his face and creating shadows of doubt, “I had requested your aid specifically, my dear.”

Ailani once again came back empty, “For what?”

The Chancellor’s worry melted into a rueful and strained smile, kindness and hurt leaking into his eyes, “Tomorrow, I am traveling home to witness the Coronation of Queen Neeyuntee,” Ailani sensed the following words before they fell. Her heart stopped, “And I had requested your presence on my personal security team.”

“I…” The words died in Ailani’s throat, and her mind went blank.

Lavender and orange blossoms. Sweet tarts in the kitchen, and stars painted on her ceiling. A forehead pressed against hers and a kiss on her cheek.

Naboo. Home. He was asking her to go home. Memories and moments suddenly became clear in her mind, sharp fragments of childhood falling into place. Her Father’s smile and the smell of cambylictus trees. Her Mother’s painted face, and soft hands on her cheeks. Running through mud puddles and wind in her hair. Warm hugs and kisses. Fluffy blankets and crackling fireplaces. Memories that didn’t hurt. 

Lavender and orange blossoms. Sweet tarts in the kitchen, and stars painted on her ceiling. A forehead pressed against hers and a kiss on her cheek.

Palpatine began speaking again, but his voice was so far away, beyond her cracking mind. The star inside Ailani’s heart burned. “Are you certain the Council did not inform you?” Palpatine said, voice echoing, “How unlike them to be so secretive.”

The planet was shifting, moving beyond her and tilting someplace far away. Someplace filled with lavender and orange blossoms, sweet tarts in the kitchen. A place with stars painted on her ceiling. A forehead pressed against hers and a kiss on her cheek. A place called home. A place where she knew her Father and Mother. A place where she had been loved.

“No, I haven’t…” Ailani said, at last, her voice cracking, her breath shaking, “Oh, thank you, my Lord, I am honored. It would be an honor to accompany you.”

Her mind was lost in the haze of childhood. In her heart, her Father whispered to her, his voice carrying through the forest. Memories of the two of them together, hunting in the woods and watching the sunrise. Memories she had almost forgotten. In the woods where she had been known. 

Palpatine smiled, that warm smile, that genuine smile she remembered from childhood, “I must admit, I had to pull a few strings,” He said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and slowly directing her back towards the door,  “The Council does not seem to like you leaving.” His tone was almost scolding, slightly mischievous, and something else Ailani could not place.

Ailani pulled back on the mask of the Acolyte, hiding the cracks of light that blossomed in her heart, “No, no. They prefer to keep me close. That’s all.” She was unusually upbeat, covering over the sins of the Council and the look on Palpatine's face said she was suspiciously so, but Ailani could not bring herself to care. She felt like she could fly. Though there was a lingering alarm in her mind saying she was about to hit the ground.

“Hm,” Palpatine said, searching her face for something. “Well, never mind, you and I will leave for home tomorrow, and everything shall be well. Are you certain you can be packed by then?”

“Oh, yes.” Ailani’s eyes felt hazy, and her heart lingered in her throat. “I can be ready.”

The office door slid open with a hiss, casting a shadow over her light.

“Oh, of course!” The Chancellor clapped his hands softly as if snapping them back to reality. “You are familiar with Commander Fox, are you not?” The Chancellor gestured vaguely to the Clone, now standing at the door, familiar red paint adorning his armor and peeling in several places. He looked as if he had seen better days.

“Yes, my Lord,” Ailani said, nodding in acknowledgment, a tight smile crossed her lips. She tilted her head in acknowledgment. 

Fox did not move.

They had only worked together briefly, and though his reports all fell on her desk, they had only exchanged less than ten words. Technically, his sector army fell under the command of Master Yoda. Still, since Fox mostly dealt in senatorial affairs, he remained closer to the Chancellor than he did with the Jedi, so Ailani had no real reason to talk with him. However, the Coruscant Guard had many massiffs, and Ailani didn’t mind dropping by their barracks to pick up reports or updates just to play with the beasts. They were extraordinary at fetch.

The mere thought of the barracks made her head spin, and she pushed down thoughts of Wolffe like vomit. 

“Commander Fox will be accompanying us to Naboo,” The Chancellor said with a polite smile that did not reach his eyes. “Now I have complete faith in you, my dear, but my team insisted on a full security detail.”

They fell into silence. Ailani scanned the Commander’s indifferent helmet. “Right.”

Socialization was a complex issue in Ailani’s mind. She found it easier to talk to strangers because they had no preconceived notions, and it was easy to talk with the Council because she had no choice but to lean on them for support and help. But talking with acquaintances who were aware of her and yet unknown was terrifying. Acquaintances knew enough about her to have an idea of her identity in their heads, and Ailani was never lucky enough to have a good history to fall back on. Not knowing what someone knew about her and being unable to explain herself was blood-chilling. Around acquaintances, Ailani had to have all her walls up and firmly sealed. She had to be the perfect Acolyte. She couldn’t be real. She had to be an idea.

Ideas couldn’t let you down.

Like how she let down Wolffe, and Barriss, and–

It was painful. 

Ailani did not want Naboo to be painful. It was supposed to be the one place in the universe where she could truly be herself. 

But with Fox there…

The Chancellor interrupted her spiral, “Now you must return to the temple. You’ve got packing to do.” He was gently pushing her to the door, moving her stiff legs. 

“Yes. Yes.” Ailani shook slightly, “Yes, thank you again, my lord.”

My Lord. That is what her Mother had instructed her to call Palpatine. My Lord. 

He smiled at her, patting her shoulder, “Commander, drive Acolyte Reilatta back to the temple. That will be all for the morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, I do—“

“Nonsense, I know the Jedi make you walk back and forth; it’s absurd, my dear; take the speeder.” He was already turning away, moving back to his desk and beyond her grasp. 

Ailani grimaced. Technically, she had to walk because her last speeder was involved in a ‘fancy flying’ incident, her keys had been taken, and she had been grounded. At least, ‘fancy flying’ was what Master Windu had called it. It was kinder than saying she was a reckless child who didn’t care for rules and would get herself killed. That is what Master Piell had said. 

Ailani found no more protests on her lips, not that the Chancellor would listen to anyway. Instead, she turned to Fox with a whisper, “I already have a ride,” Ailani said, speaking in a low tone, so intense the Chancellor could not hear, “You do not have to take me back.”

They had already talked more than she wanted to, and sitting in a speeder to endure more unless small talk was not exactly how she wanted to spend the next half hour. 

It didn’t seem to be his idea of a good time either. “The Chancellor insisted.” Commander Fox’s tone was mechanical and trapped behind the modified speaker, yet the Force could not be so easily masked, and despite his loyalty, the reluctance flowed off of him like water. 

“I am sure you have better ways to spend your time,” Ailani replied, not even looking at him anymore. She was wasting time. They both were. “I will not tell.”

Ailani pressed the door controls, and the mechanism slid open effortlessly, revealing Barriss patiently waiting on the other side. Her eyes darted between Ailani’s face and Fox’s helmet, and through the Force, a question lingered on her lips but did not fall. Barriss was too polite to ask questions in front of a crowd. At least Ailani knew Barriss. That was better than sitting in a speeder with a stranger, even if she would rather be alone.

Fox seemed to study them both for a moment, contemplating something. He didn’t speak until the door shut behind them. “Until tomorrow, Acolyte Réillata.”

He turned away. 

“What happened?” Barriss hurried close to Ailani’s side, whispering in a low tone as she looked around the hallway, “I didn’t even see Commander Fox enter the room.”

As soon as his shadow disappeared around a corner, Ailani felt a weight sink into her, making the ground shudder beneath her feet, and she faltered for a moment, but just for a moment. Barriss grasped Ailani’s arm, attempting to steady Ailani’s trembling form. Ailani brushed her off. 

“I’m going to Naboo.” Ailani breathed, the reality finally settling into her chest, “I am going home.”

The Chancellor’s luxury yacht sailed effortlessly through the hyperlanes. 

Ailani hadn’t even felt the takeoff. Honestly, she hadn’t felt much of anything since last night. It still didn’t feel real. Her eyes stared out the viewports for hours, shining stars reflecting in her eyes.

Naboo. 

She had been given so little time to absorb it all and even to fathom it. Barriss had practically carried her from the Senate halls, and Ailani hadn’t even minded. Her soul had been floating, grasping at straws to remember reality.  

What would she pack? What would she wear? How could she prove to the planet that she had not forgotten it? How could she show that she still honored her homeland?

Naboo.

It hadn’t felt real. It still didn’t feel real. 

She was really going back to Naboo, and not just Naboo, the palace. She was visiting the Theed Palace. Her home. Her old bedroom was somewhere in that palace, somewhere in the royal apartments. Somewhere, she could see soon.

Lavender and orange blossoms, sweet tarts in the kitchen, and stars painted on her ceiling. A forehead pressed against hers and a kiss on her cheek.

Her home. Soon, those fragments would no longer be a memory; soon, she would know them again. Soon. 

Lavender and orange blossoms, sweet tarts in the kitchen, and stars painted on her ceiling. A forehead pressed against hers and a kiss on her cheek.

So soon.

“I’m so glad you were allowed to join us, my dear child.” The Chancellor interrupted Ailani’s thoughts, drawing her attention away from the window and the brightness of space. He had his new formal robes on, layers of red and gold adorning his fragile frame and only deepening the dark lines of age on his face. He looked concerned. “I must admit, I was worried.”

Ailani smiled a bit, though it fell more like a lighthearted huff. “I am honored by the opportunity, your grace.”

Palpatine shook his head ruefully, “I hope the Council did not give you too much trouble with the short notice.” He added pointedly.

In truth, there had been no protest or denial that they withheld the request. The Council had ignored that implication or perhaps just ignored her looming tantrum at the possible confession. It still didn’t make any sense, but as always, there was never enough time to unravel that thread. The Council’s opinion didn’t matter on Naboo. Being a Jedi didn’t matter on Naboo. All that mattered was her and the fuzzy memories of her parents.

And keeping Chancellor Palpatine safe, of course.

“Oh no,” Ailani replied, “They just made me promise to finish my reports.” She gestured to the datapad in her lap with a slight shrug of defeat. 

The Chancellor shook his head again, almost sadly. “I had hoped you could enjoy being home.” 

“I shall be alright,” Ailani said, her tone dry and unconvincing. She didn’t want to think too hard about that. She didn’t want to think at all.

The Chancellor immediately caught on, “Well, I appreciate your efforts, my child.” He said, offering a warm hand on her shoulder and a kind smile.

His smile reminded her of when they had met, the memory hazy but pleasantly so, like a kind summer dream. She was only eight when he had been appointed Senator by her Mother, but he had looked at her with that same kind expression and warm smile. Home .

Ailani smiled back. “Thank you, my Lord.”

“Now I shall finish getting ready, and—”

Ailani’s comm chimed in her pocket, interrupting the Chancellor. With an embarrassed flush, Ailani fished the device from her pocket and hastily scanned the identification code. 

It was an emergency line. It was Wolffe.

Ailani stared at it momentarily, the thought of the Chancellor fading to background noise. 

Wolffe.

She hadn’t seen him since the day before the massacre. The Council had only spoken about his battalion once. The Senate ignored the incident entirely. She had…. she hadn’t…. she had not heard from him since. She had not reached out. She didn’t know what to say. She had been afraid. The smell of lavender died, and all Ailani could hear was the sound of distant rain.

The comm chimed again, and Ailani found that her hands were shaking.

“My dear?” The Chancellor cracked through her mind, prying at the thoughts and unraveling the threads. “Are you quite alright?”

“I...” Ailani’s throat was dry. “I need to answer this.” Her words cracked, and Ailani saw the Chancellor's eyes burning through her when she looked up. 

“Of course, my dear.” He smiled, but it did not meet his eyes. “I shall see you when we land.” 

Ailani did not wait for him to leave, and instead, she stood and rushed past him, seeking someplace quiet, someplace— 

Ailani answered the comm but said nothing. She couldn’t. Her voice wouldn’t work anymore.

Wolffe spoke first. “Acolyte Réillata.”

The rush of familiarity that flooded Ailani was unlike anything she had ever felt. She had spent hours wondering if he would ever be able to speak again and cold nights imagining him covered in wires and tubes. 

Here he was. Speaking. Alive. Okay. 

Alive. 

Ailani couldn’t breathe. “Commander.” She acknowledged, “How may I serve you?” The lines of formality felt foreign on her tongue, but they fell anyway. Was her heart beating loudly, or did it merely feel that way? 

She had wanted to talk to him so badly but had always fallen short. She wanted to apologize for not visiting in the hospital, wanted to apologize for the demotion, wanted to tell him that she believed in him and—

“I wish to schedule a meeting with General Plo Koon,” Wolffe said, words short and curt. That made her heart stop completely. She had thought…she had thought he had wanted to hear from her. 

“Oh.”

Master Plo was working on their case, that much Ailani knew for certain. He would never have left them in the cold, and Ailani was sure he had spoken to them a few times since the incident. Though the GAR's formality could taint even the warmest embrace with a chill, some things were beyond anyone’s control. If anyone outside the GAR wished to speak with the Council, they had to come to Ailani first. He was probably calling from a public line on Kamino. No more personal comms or belongings. 

Like civilians. 

Ailani wanted to speak her mind and offer support or help, but the words refused to fall, and her mouth refused to open. She sat silently, her head full of apologies and condolences that she wasn’t strong enough to force forward. 

“No reassignment yet?” Ailani said, trying to play dumb, as no intelligence came to her. 

Wolffe’s tone came back like stone, “No.” He paused momentarily, and Ailani sensed the cutting remark before it left his lips, “But you knew that.”

Yes. Yes, she did. Ailani ignored him, “I will have him comm you.”

“I want an actual meeting.” His tone was sharp but not directed at her, instead falling like a swinging sword, cutting uselessly through the air. 

“It has only been a week. I’m trying.” She was trying. Perhaps too much. Their reassignment fell on Master Plo’s shoulders, yet Ailani had already intervened more than she should have. Constantly asking for updates and trying to get fragments of answers. 

No one had any. 

“Ailani.” Wolffe’s tone was almost scolding, as if he had caught her in a lie. It made her stomach do flips. 

Everything was all wrong. The ease she felt around him was stiffening into jagged, uncomfortable edges. She should have said sorry. She should have been there. He had helped her and given her a group of individuals who treated her as equals. He had introduced her to the Wolfpack, who joked and laughed with her. He had given her knowledge and stability in a war that spun her head. He had been so easy to talk with. He had found her in the maze of warfare and talked to her like she was a normal person. He had been an almost friend, and Ailani couldn’t even find enough strength in her heart to offer condolences; the words of mourning got stuck in her throat and choked her. 

She was terrible. 

Ailani shifted the conversation, “Where are you?” She knew that GAR regulations had sent them back to Kamino to be reviewed and reevaluated for battle. But he didn’t know that she knew that, and it was a good enough place to start. 

“Kamino.” He sounded so cold, so far and foreign from her, and Ailani had never been good at building bridges. That had been his job. 

Her throat was dry, “How long?”

“Day before yesterday.” The simple answers fought with the memories of almost friendship in her mind, and despite herself, Ailani searched for that connection again.

“Medical bay?” She asked. She didn’t know how to say ‘I hope you’re okay,’ and so she prayed that her voice's question and softness asked for her. 

“Just me.” He remained like stone. 

“Boost and Sinker?” Please, Ailani begged in her mind, please say something. 

“Re-evaluation of skills is required before reassignment.” Nothing.

“So you are merely there for testing?” Maybe a few more minutes of casual conversation would make her heart thaw. Maybe she could—

“I want a meeting.” Wolffe was sterner now, voice unwavering. Done with polite lies. 

Polite lies were all Ailani knew. And even then, no matter what she did, Ailani always found a way to hurt someone. No matter how hard she tried or how desperately she wanted to help, everything always exploded right back into her face. She wasn’t good enough for anything.

“I’ll make it happen.” She said, “Keep your schedule open. I’ll have him contact you.”

Ailani switched off her comm before the spotlight of his voice could trap her again, and she signed heavily, throwing her head in her hands. 

She was useless. Selfish and useless and terrible. She should have said sorry or… or something. Anything . Anything would have been better than the elaborate conversational dance she had performed. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she do something normal for once in her life? Why was it so hard for her to just…

Ailani felt someone’s gaze burn holes in her head. Instinctively, Ailani opened her eyes and found Fox staring at her, or at least the cold void of his viewfinder. Her blood chilled, and Ailani found herself unable to stop staring back.

What was he thinking? Had he heard all of that? Was he thinking of her as selfish, too? Wasteful and selfish and self-absorbed? His dark viewfinder gave Ailani no hints. She hadn’t thought of Wolffe and Fox as close. Wolffe hadn’t even acknowledged Fox in that first meeting, but perhaps she had misjudged the situation. She knew that Neyo and Wolffe talked often, and Wolffe and Captain Rex seemed to be on okay terms, and of course, Cody was ever-present in Wolffe’s life. But never Fox. What could he be thinking? Then again, Ailani wasn’t even sure what she was thinking. There was enough tension and judgment in the air, and it was hard to decipher where it began and ended.

Maybe he was merely nosey. 

“Are you here to discuss security measures?” Ailani said, the words coming out strained. She knew he wasn’t, but it was the only out she could think of. 

Fox nodded yes, accepting her redirection and passing her a datapad, “You’ll only have an active role during the ceremony. Leave the rest to us.”

Us.

Maybe that was it. 

It had only been a few months, yet Ailani had tried to carefully unravel the complex relationships that defined clone troopers from her conversations with Wolffe and her observations. The familial bond reminded Ailani of Jedi life in some ways, but these clones were not just family. They were brothers. Or at least that’s what Wolffe had told her. 

Brothers who sent brothers to their deaths.

Is that why he had been staring at her so strangely? Even if he and Wolffe were not close, perhaps they still were brothers, and Ailani was being a selfish jerk, and maybe that was reason enough to stare. 

Ailani accepted the datapad and scanned over the documents. He had removed her from all patrols and only assigned her to duty during the parade, and even then, Ailani would have to walk it anyway.

“I can do more,” Ailani said, looking up at him, “Really, I don’t mind.”

In truth, she did mind. She wanted to explore Naboo and the palace, renewing these places in her mind. She didn’t want to work security. But it wasn’t fair to leave all the work to them. She had been on the opposite side before, which wasn’t fun. Nor kind.

Fox shook his head, taking back the datapad, “No need, sir.” 

She wished people would stop using titles in place of her name. She wanted to be Ailani.

A voice crackled over the loudspeaker, breaking the conversation, “Prepare landing party.”

Ailani’s mind went blank, removing all awkward conversation and strain. She turned to face the viewport, blinking away the exhaustion that had made a home in her features, willing her vision to clear and her mind to ease. 

They had already fallen from hyperspace, and before her eyes, the blue-green haze of Naboo shimmered against the stars. It was bright and brilliant, cracking through the void with cloud haze and deep blue oceans. Her stress disappeared, fading into the night. She was caught between haze and horizon, blue and bluer still, so green it was glowing, so bright and so alive, and for a moment, Ailani was convinced that Naboo was the center of the entire universe.

How could it not be?

Ailani tangled her fingertips into the loose ribbons wrapped around her wrists as they fell into the atmosphere. 

The shuttle flew over forest and river, deep blue and endless green, and eventually, a spark grew in the distance, growing closer and closer until it revealed itself to be the Theed Palace, glimmering on a cliff's edge.

Home.

It was windy. 

Despite the sheltered hangar, the mountains and waterfalls of Naboo sent a dizzying breeze through the hall, catching hair against Ailani’s face and casting light in her eyes.

The entire planet smelled like fresh flowers, bright and wonderful, pure and true. It was so sickly sweet, drowning out all other thoughts. It was even more wonderful than Ailani remembered.

It was so hard to focus on anything with her head swimming so wonderfully, her legs shaking just a little. Her heart raced, blood rushing in her ears, and her body tingling with alight nerves. It was so hard to stay calm. 

Ailani thought she might cry. 

Queen Jamillia met them in the hangar, flanked by guards and handmaidens, her hands folded neatly in front of her. She wore dark maroon robes that shrouded her frame, burying her in layers of formality. Her equally dark hair was pulled up into an elaborate updo, with a perfectly round headpiece fanning out. She was so beautiful and warm. 

Lavender and orange blossoms. Sweet tarts in the kitchen, and stars painted on her ceiling. A forehead pressed against hers and a kiss on her cheek.

How long has she wanted this? How long had she desired to bask in the warmth of Naboo once again? 

Lavender and orange blossoms. Sweet tarts in the kitchen, and stars painted on her ceiling. A forehead pressed against hers and a kiss on her cheek.

Padmé had been…a slight error. She was a vision, beautiful and strong, but she was not warm, and she reminded Ailani too much of things she would rather forget. But Queen Jamillia was everything Ailani had wanted and dreamed of. Beautiful dark eyes, warmth like the sun. Ailani tried to imagine her Mothers's face behind the white makeup and warmth. 

Already, the morning's events were being washed away, lost in time and space. How easily she shifted, how desperately conflicting emotions fought over her heart, like a pendulum swinging back and forth. She wanted to forget about how horribly she had let Wolffe down and how immensely she had failed. Terrible and selfish felt like defining words for her now, but Naboo made it easy to forget. It was easy to hide under the layers of childhood. 

How pathetic of her, and yet…

“I apologize for the delay, my dear.” Palpatine said, reaching to grab the Queen’s hand, breaking whatever trance Ailani had fallen into, “Hyperspace travel is not what it used to be.”

“We are grateful for your presence, Chancellor.” Queen Jamillia said, with a polite smile and a strange look under the cool indifference of the Queen’s mask, “We know your work is important, especially in these trying times.”

Her voice was heavily accented, perhaps North Naboo? Ailani didn’t recognize it. It didn’t matter. She was wonderful and beautiful, and—

“May I introduce Jedi Knight Ailani Réillata, daughter of your predecessor, Queen Réillata?”

Ailani felt her stomach fall to the floor, but it was not dread that filled herx, rather, it was embarrassment. She should have fixed her hair or checked the mirror before they landed. Some daughter of a Queen she was, with a flushed face and a thousand-yard stare. She was too embarrassed to correct the Chancellor and too ashamed to even acknowledge his mistake, for all she could feel was the burning eyes of Jamidala. Some of the warmth evaporated but did not disappear completely. 

“We are honored by your presence.” Jamillia inclined her head in acknowledgment, and Ailani was certain the floor would fall below her.

The smell of lavender was overpowering now, so strong it made her dizzy, “I am honored to be here.” Ailani managed, her throat growing tense and her words airy. Her heart was racing. Her hands were sweaty. Was she shaking?

“Speaking of,” Palpatine interrupted, stepping before Ailani, “What an honor it has been working with you, your highness.” He said, gazing at the Queen with fatherly compassion. 

Ailani felt a strange pang in her gut. Did he look at everyone like that? She had thought she was… Ailani had thought she was special. Lavender began wilting. Her lightsaber felt heavy.

“The honor is mine, Chancellor.“ The Queen replied smoothly, her eyes polite but not quite as informal as his compassion, “Though I do wish my reign were ending under better circumstances.” 

The Clone War again. Everything always came back to the Clone War. Even on Naboo, she could not escape it. How desperately she wanted to escape it. The implication of the war sent stains across Ailani’s memories of Naboo, tainting what little she could recall. The world had changed so much since she had been here last. Had she changed too?

“Don’t we all,” The Chancellor said, almost nostalgic, “But your compassion has gotten us through great stress, your highness. Though I also have great faith in your successor.” He added the last line as if it were a diplomatic afterthought, not a firmly held belief. Was he being polite or rude? Ailani couldn’t tell.

Queen Jamillia considered something momentarily, “My faith remains in our democracy. I shall follow where it leads.”

Neither seemed certain about Jamillia’s replacement, though Ailani could not place why. She had seen the holos of Neeyutnee, a young woman of maybe seventeen or eighteen, with dark hair and makeup. She was solemn and stable, proving that with strength and certainty, she could lead Naboo through the crisis of war. She wasn’t particularly disagreeable, perhaps a bit gothic , but that didn’t make her a bad choice. Ailani had assumed that Neeyutnee was merely matching her wardrobe to the times and that war was equally dark. She seemed honorable enough and certainly bold enough to speak up. 

But something occurred to her as Ailani stared upon Queen Jamillia’s face, worn with trial and tribulation. There had not been a teenage Queen since Amidala. Ailani’s Mother had ruled her second term after Amidala, and she must have been almost thirty by then, and Jamillia must have been around the same age. 

Did they dislike the idea of a younger monarch? That couldn’t have been it. Amidala was considered the most successful of Naboo’s rulers, and she was also the youngest. Then what was wrong?

“Wise words, your majesty.” The Chancellor said, nodding in approval. 

Queen Jamillia smiled again and inclined her head. Then Ailani saw it, the sadness behind her polite smile. Queen Jamillia was leaving the war as Neeyutnee’s inheritance. Her democracy was offering up a child as a tribute for this trial. 

Ailani suddenly thought of all the Padawans she knew. Cal Kestis, who loved high fives and cartwheels. Caleb Dume, who Ailani had just helped assign to the outer rim. Ahsoka Tano, whom the Council had given to Anakin, a reckless and powerful man. Barriss Offee, who now used her healing skills to mend battlefield wounds and mask blood. Teenagers and children who inherited war. 

Ailani had a hard enough time wrapping her head around Padawan learners being anointed as Commanders, and the sickening feeling of it all was back. This planet had elected a young girl to be the face of their war. It all made Ailani so indescribably sad. 

“Will you be joining us for the tour tomorrow?” The Queen said, her voice distant as Ailani battled her tumbling thoughts. 

“Of course,” The Chancellor said warmly, “I would not miss your final act of hospitality.”

Ailani felt the haze of flowers melting into something that smelled uncomfortably like rot. Was that her? 

“We shall look forward to it.” The Queen said warmly, “Neeyutnee is also staying on the grounds, though she will not join us for dinner. Per tradition, of course.”

“Of course.”

Dinner passed in a nauseous blur. Ailani could only manage to keep one foot in front of the other as memories pounded at her head and ripped at her skin. 

Every hallway she walked, every room she entered felt so uncomfortably familiar that it burned. It had not been as warm and inviting as she had dreamed. It had only given her an aching head. Everything was distant, like a dream she was struggling to recall, only for it to slip away into morning sunlight. Between the memories, Ailani felt only exhaustion, the faces of Padawans and young Queens and clone troopers drifting through her mind. Sacrifices of warfare. Sacrifices she was building the altars for. 

For your sins, you must be sacrificed. 

She longed to see the holocron again, to gaze upon the orange light and revisit the dreams and memories of her childhood. Prophecy made more sense than the world did now. 

After the meal, Ailani had wandered through the hallways uselessly, searching and scanning for anything or value. But everything stung painfully, and she had gone to bed early.

Dreams hurt even worse. 

Ailani Réillata was cold. 

Smoke covered the ground below her feet and bit a chill-like frost at her ankles. The wind blew through her hair, flicking strands against her face and stinging her cheeks.

She was dreaming. Again.

Something was different, something she could not place. Something was wrong. In her ordinary dream, her burning dream, the universe was loud. Her fear was loud, the screams were deafening, and her breath was ragged. The burning itself was loud. Painfully loud.

Her dream now was silent, so quiet she could hear her soft heartbeat, so quiet she could listen to the gentle rush of blood in her ears. No one was calling her name. No one was screaming. No one made a sound. She was utterly alone.

For a dreadful moment, nothing happened. No sound was made, no movement in the dark. Nothing. Deep in her mind, locked away behind the haze of dreaming, Ailani’s instincts made her want to run. Turn and run and leave and wake up and—

Suddenly, before her, part of the smoke cleared, separating with a clean slice, and a figure revealed itself; it was back to her, adorned in elaborate layers and a blood-red headpiece. 

The Queen.

Ailani’s breath caught in her throat, and the dream pulled words from her lungs, “Your Highness?” Her voice cracked as she broke the unsettling silence with trembling words. She felt too close to a hunted animal, making an accidental sound that would trigger bloodshed. The figure did not move.

Despite her fear, Ailani walked closer, though her mind wanted to run and hide. She could not stop her legs nor her dreaming mind, and as she grew closer, Ailani reached out a hand to the Queen. “Your Highness?” 

A cut through the silence, a scream through the dark. The Queen turned to face Ailani with such sudden force that her hand was ripped from the woman’s shoulder, and Ailani stumbled backward as the Queen towered above. The woman was screaming, a blood-curdling cry, shattering the darkness with a voice akin to a hyperspace bomb. She pointed at Ailani with an accusing finger, and her face…her face…Ailani caught her scream in her throat.

The face of the Queen was pale and free of all features, a blank white slate, a void of emotion, and yet a raging storm. Her call cut through the silence cut through Ailani’s heart and into the place between her spirit and her bones. 

“Useless!” The Queen cried, and her voice was layered, speaking like many and none. She had no mouth, yet Ailani heard the words as clearly as if they were her own, “I am to die! And you are dreaming!” 

“What—” Before Ailani could finish speaking, The Queen pointed again, and suddenly, the burning that should have been in Ailani’s chest exploded like fireworks in her left shoulder.

White flashed across Ailani’s eyes, blinding and bright, yet images flashed through the light too fast for her to grasp…

Blood. A broken widow. A blaster bolt. Summer air. A woman in white ceremonial makeup covered in blood. Ailani doubled over, gasping in shock and pain, writhing on the floor as the light blinded. 

“No, I can help you!” Ailani replied, gasping at each word, surprised she could even speak, “I can—”

“Useless!” The Queen interrupted, more vengefully this time, still pointing at Ailani’s burning shoulder as if she was shooting lightning from her fingertips. 

Everything burned, and when Ailani tried to speak again, only a choked cry released from her throat, and her eyes fluttered and—

The word dissolved into white.

When Ailani Réillata awoke, she still heard the screaming of the young Queen.

Instinct kicked in before sense or sight did, her eyes blinking into the dark as she stumbled out of bed and sprinted. Screaming was not uncommon in her dreams, nor was blood and fear, nor was cryptic messaging, but her mind had not yet returned from that shadowed place, and her heart was still stuck somewhere beyond reach.

If she had been more awake, Ailani could have reasoned with herself, calmed herself down, and driven sense into her skull. But she was not completely awake, and fear could conquer even the strongest of hearts. Useless. I am to die. 

Ailani’s shoulder burned, a phantom ache she knew, even in her restless state, but the pain remained despite knowing of its falsehood. It only drove her more.

Useless. 

She was running before she knew where her feet intended to rest, muscles aching before they were even fully awake. She could not fully see nor comprehend, but the screaming drove her. 

I am to die.

The halls were cold beneath her bare feet, and she ran through them as if she had always done. She ran past the guest chambers, past the kitchens and dining halls, she ran past guards and whispers of moonlight, and the Force ran through her blood. She ran to the royal chambers and did not once question how she knew exactly where they were. 

At last, Ailani broke through the door, her heart frantic, her eyes bright, her mind spinning, and— “Your Highness!” 

The room was quiet, and instantly, Ailani was keenly aware that it was not Jamillia who stood in the chamber; instead, it was a young girl surrounded by cloaked companions. The girl did not speak, she did not move, she hardly breathed, and yet Ailani’s heart knew her instantly. 

Neeyuntnee.

The screaming in Ailani’s head suddenly stopped, and she was awake. Suddenly alive. The room clicked into place. Everything was fine. There was a fire going in the hearth, warm and gentle. Rugs sprawled out across the floor, comforting and soft. Moonlight slipped through the open window, and the curtains caught in the summer air. Everything was fine. She must have looked mad.

“Acolyte Réillata.” Neeyuntnee’s voice was wide awake, poised, and accented with the inflections of northern Naboo, “Is something wrong?”

The room was still, and everyone was staring at her. Ailani was suddenly aware of how harshly her chest was heaving, how quickly her heart was pounding.

She must have looked mad. 

Useless.

The doors behind Ailani suddenly opened again, and even through her haze of madness and restlessness, Ailani knew it was the royal guards. Neeyuntnee held up a hand to silence them, and she stared at Ailani, brown eyes piercing with the acute observation granted to youth. 

Useless.

“I thought…” Ailani paused, her mouth dry. Despite her embarrassment, her trembling legs carried her deeper into the room, scanning the perimeter of the space. The Force was still moving her, or perhaps it was just madness. She stopped, her back to the window, summer air on her skin, “You are in no danger then?” Ailani’s voice was shaking, and the room occupants were staring at her as if she was about to…as if she was…dangerous. 

I am to die.

“Only in danger of missing my curfew,” Neeyuntnee replied, stepping closer and picking her words carefully as she studied the time bomb that Ailani could suddenly feel sitting in her chest. She swallowed hard. 

“Oh.” Ailani was shaking now and bowed, not knowing what else to do, “My apologies, your highness.” 

Useless. 

Ailani was fully awake now, caught in something unknowable. She should have been embarrassed or even ashamed, but she just felt…

Useless. 

Neeyuntnee was just an arm's length away now, and she broke the quiet, “I will not be your highness until tomorrow, but—”

Her words were cut short by the sound of shattering glass. The window broke. The universe froze. 

Ailani did not freeze with it.

It was as if the glass shattered in slow motion, the pristine stained window cracking, crumbling, falling to shards behind her. Her ears pricked, associating the sound instantly.

Baster bolt. Just as she had dreamed. 

Her instincts reacted even as the world fell slowly and broke apart. Her lightsaber was activated in a moment—Ailani could not even remember bringing it— casting the darkroom in a golden glow. Within a breath, she swung the blade up, deflecting whatever had crashed through the window, only to realize her mistake a second too late. 

It was a slug, not a blaster bolt. 

Shards of shrapnel exploded from the projectile, but years of training reacted faster, and even before her mistake fully revealed itself, Ailani threw her lightsaber like a javelin in the direction of the attack before she quickly turned, curling herself over the Neeyuntnee in shaking arms.

Pain and warmth exploded against Ailani’s back, making her vision blare white and her mind alight with hot flames. But she did not let go of Neeyuntnee until the room was filled with guards, and handmaidens pried away her shaking fingertips. 

Battlefield medicine had become commonplace, yet that knowledge did not ease Ailani’s discomfort as she was picked apart in front of a crowd that hardly seemed to notice her. She had never been comfortable in her skin, with lines never perfect enough, never pretty enough, and hair she never seemed to suit, but she wasn’t exactly allowed to argue now.

Captain Typho and his men had piled into the room, scanning every shard of glass and misplaced hairpin with a deadly seriousness that would have been laughable had a slugthrower not come through the window minutes earlier. 

Two clone guards stood by the door, a show of good faith by the Republic, a sign that the Grand Army would protect Neeyutnee. However, Ailani knew most of the guards would be with Palpatine in some bunker. She probably should have been there with them. Useless.

Ailani grimaced as the handmaiden—Kiané maybe—removed another glass shard from her back. The girl had ripped the back of Ailani’s top, allowing a complete examination of the fragments and leaving Ailani in her cropped tank and shredded nightshirt. Part of her wanted to be embarrassed, but mostly, she wished everyone would leave her alone and stop asking useless questions. She needed to find her lightsaber and scold herself for chucking it like a spear. 

Ailani had practiced that move a few times in training, but it was only for fun. She wasn’t supposed to throw her lightsaber without using the force to recall it. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now her lightsaber was in the woods somewhere, and she would have to spend all night looking for it. If only R3 were here, then he could just scan for it. Then again, he would probably spend just as much time mocking Ailani for losing it in the first place. She didn’t need that right now. 

What in the Force was she thinking?

“I did not see anyone,” Ailani repeated, trying not to grimace as the handmaiden fished out another shard. She could afford to be gentler. 

“You did not attempt to pursue the suspect?” Typho said, his face grave.

“Besides throwing my lightsaber, no. I felt it more important to remain with Neeyuntnee.”  That was only partially true. She had been shell-shocked, gripping the future Queen like a life raft, frozen in place.

“How did you even know—”

“For the final time,” Ailani stood, shaking off the helping handmaiden, “I had a dream. That is all. I am not some co-conspirator, nor spy. I am a Jedi. I do not need to explain myself.”

Everyone was staring at her again, and Ailani suddenly felt very exposed with her bleeding back and wild eyes. 

The doors opened suddenly, a welcome distraction, and a guard came stumbling in, holding Ailani’s still active and glowing blade, “We found the lightsaber. And the attacker.”

Without thinking, Ailani recalled the saber to her hand with the Force, deactivating it once it reached her palm. It was wet. 

Blood. 

Ailani’s fingers uncurled from her weapon. A sticky red encompassed her hand and coated the hilt of her blade, staining the ribbon tied around it and painting silver beskar scarlet. She almost dropped the lightsaber but quickly steeled her grip, clinging to it tightly. Her Father’s last gift, stained in blood. She suddenly envisioned herself as a child, holding a bloody knife in her hand, with her Father standing over her. 

What had…

“It went right through him,” The guard said, his voice a mere echo in Ailani’s head, “Had to pull it from his corpse. Couldn’t get it to turn off.”

Corpse?

Ailani’s eyes remained fixed on her lightsaber, memorizing the hue of deep red that coated the weapon. Her hands were shaking so badly now, but she couldn’t let go of her blade, even as the smell of iron became overpowering. 

Had she killed someone?

Ailani felt like a ghost, staring wide-eyed at her weapon. Her Father’s face appeared in her mind, but she couldn’t read his expression. Was he disappointed? Or…proud?

Had she killed someone?

“Some bounty hunter,” The guard continued, “Had a fob on him.”

Bounty hunter. Corpse. The words made no sense and sat on the edge of Ailani's mind, unable to sink in. She had stained her ribbon. Her Mother’s ribbon. 

She had killed someone. 

“I apologize for my doubts,” Captain Typho said,  his deep voice pulling Ailani’s attention, “And I extend my gratitude.”

Gratitude. Add that to the list of words that didn’t make any sense. Corpse. Bounty hunter. Gratitude. Those words didn’t belong together, and Ailani didn’t belong with them. 

She must have been silent for a long time because Typho looked at her strangely, then resigned, “My men will investigate the hunter. I’ll let you heal up.” He gestured to Kiané and bowed his head.

Ailani still couldn’t move, her hands clenched tight around her lightsaber. The room was eerily silent for a moment, and Ailani was unsure if she was about to storm out or fall back into the chair and fall asleep.

“I’ll finish up what I can,” Kiané said, a slight smile on her face as she pushed Ailani back into the soft lounge chair. “But you should retire to the medical center tonight.”

Her hands were so cold against Ailani’s skin, and somehow, it only made the shaking worse, “I’ll be fine,” Ailani croaked out, completely unconvincing. 

She wanted Kiané to stop touching her. Every brush of skin was awful and cold, uncomfortable and painful. Her mind was too full, and her senses too overwhelmed. She didn’t need some stranger prying her wounds apart. She wanted silence of the mind; she needed silence of the heart.

Corpse. Bounty hunter. Gratitude. What did all these words have in common? They didn’t feel real, but the blood on her hands said otherwise. 

Killer. 

That was the missing word. Killer . The word that made all the other words make sense. Ailani was a killer. She had killed that bounty hunter and turned a living, breathing being into a corpse. Everyone was filled with gratitude. Ailani was filled with nothing at all. She hadn’t meant to throw her lightsaber. It was just a training move. A stupid game. She hadn’t meant to… she didn’t mean to kill anyone.  

But she had. 

Yet if the bounty hunter had been trying to kill Neeyuntnee, wasn’t it all in self-defense? Ailani couldn’t convince herself of that. Not really. Of course, most Jedi she knew had already killed beings. But that was always in a firefight or battle. Ailani had stabbed this hunter clean though. She hadn’t even thought twice. 

Would going out and seeing the body make things worse or better?

The image of her Father in her mind grew sharper, and memories of the woods floated back, but she couldn’t make sense of it. Images of herself holding a knife. Her tiny, bloody knuckles. Had she killed before? Had she done this all before? 

The word “training” returned to her, though it meant little. What had her Father been training her for?

Ailani couldn’t bring herself to scream or cry, and instead, she sat mechanically, her mind uncertain where her thoughts wished to land. 

“I owe you my life.” Neeyuntnee was standing above Ailani, her face grave and dark. 

Ailani met the girl's eyes and saw her emptiness reflected in the girl's dark gaze, “It was nothing.”

She had just killed someone, and already she had reduced it to nothing. Useless . 

“Your blood says otherwise.” The girl said, raising one eyebrow. 

Ailani could hardly argue, so she fell onto perfectly practiced words, “I am a Jedi. It is my job.” The words were empty, spoken with instinct and not conviction. 

Jedi weren’t supposed to kill people. Not how she had killed that bounty hunter. 

It went right through him.

“What you displayed tonight, your insight was more than I expected from a Jedi.” Neeyuntnee corrected, gentle but firm, “You saw my demise before it happened. You changed the future.”

Some people knew the Force only by its reputation. It was what gave the Jedi their power. It was what gave them their skills. But always Jedi, always the Order. Everyone assumed that the Force was something the Jedi had, and no one ever considered that the Jedi Order was something that the Force possessed. Something it owned. 

Ailani had not changed the future. The Force had changed her. 

Killer. 

“The future is not set. The Force merely granted me a possibility.” Ailani spoke hollowly, unable to keep looking into Neeyuntnee’s eyes. 

“I will never forget your bravery. Nor your power.” Neeyuntnee said, “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” Ailani replied, staring at the bloody lightsaber in her hands. 

Sunlight shone through the city square. And from behind Chancellor Palpatine, Ailani could see everything. 

The royal procession stood at the top of the city steps, facing a crowd that extended farther than Ailani’s eyes could see. Their excitement echoed through the Force in waves, washing over her like the ocean as it smoothed a jagged stone. 

She was drowning in it. With her arms tucked neatly into her sleeves, a sign of great respect, Ailani picked at her hands with nervous pain far from any eyes. 

Everything ached and burned in the daylight. Even wounds on her back had scabbed over, the medical salve turning bright pink flesh dark and dry. Despite knowing better, Ailani had spent most of the morning itching and peeling the scabs off. She couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t stop.

She couldn’t do anything but pick at wounds that would never fully heal. 

The walk had been long and overwhelming, the screams and cheers mixing in her mind as she walked silently, staring at her feet. Everyone was staring at her. No one was even looking at her. 

The crowds took up even the buildings that lined the city center, with children and parents standing atop balconies or on roofs, their grins wide and bright as the light that fell from the heavens. They were all staring in Ailani’s direction, yet none saw her. The tattoo on her lip began to burn, and the washed-away scent of blood reeked in her nose. 

It had taken hours to scrub her lightsaber clean.

Queen Jamillia held the ceremony items, a glowing orb, and a golden scepter, her grace and strength shining over the square brighter than the sun above. 

But Ailani’s eyes did not see that light, for Queen Neeyutnee cast a shadow darker than night.

She was even more composed than she had been last night. Not even death had fazed her, and now, before thousands, it seemed like nothing would change her again. There was no doubt of her strength or grace, for those traits mirrored her processor perfectly, but these traits loomed with a different sort of power. 

A necessary sort of power. 

Queen Neeyutnee wrote a black dress, its fabrics glittering softly in the sunlight as purple lining peaked through her endless layers. The dress was regal, topped off with a dark headdress that circled her face like a halo. Yet, for all its impressive and looming power, the dress did not appear celebratory.

Nothing about her seemed particularly joyful or sensational; even her royal makeup was painted in dark purple, not bright red. It almost looked as if Neeyutnee was attending a funeral. 

The symbolism loomed over the city center like a dark cloud, just as the war loomed over their minds. This was a Queen born for warfare. Warfare Ailani had helped fuel. Warfare the Chancellor had allowed power. 

Queen Jamillia wore an equally somber expression, yet her age and wisdom shone through. She was neither afraid nor unsteady, but she was smart enough to know that these things were not enough.

They were at war now.

Neeyuntee’s reign marked the end of peace. She was a Queen born for warfare. 

And she was perfect.

Governor Bibble took the ceremonial orb and staff from Queen Jamillia. 

For a moment, it was as if the galaxy had fallen into a state of grace: two Queens, two leaders, one of wisdom and peace, one for hardship and war. The two queens of Naboo remained silent.  

The governor handed Queen Neeyutnee the sacred symbols. Then, there was only the new galaxy and the new war. Naboo’s new Queen.

Neeyutnee held the symbols high, her face still like stone, even as she held her arms in victory. 

The crowd roared. Ailani could no longer hear the beating of her own heart over the screams and cheers. They howled and sang, their arms waving. Ailani could no longer hear her own heart. But she still smelled blood.

Neeyutnee held her power higher.

The crowds melted and merged their celebration into a noise almost like a singular cry, her victory faithfulness and duty stirring something fierce and powerful in their hearts. Ailani could no longer feel her breath. 

Neeyutnee remained silent. 

The screams got louder, with rapturous screaming and shouting of praise: a terrible, mighty, and endless noise. 

Naboo was reborn. 

Flowers petals began to descend from the balconies that lined the square, framed by more joyous cheers as celebration fell in the form of light purple pedals. Ailani reached her hand out gently, her fingers leaving her hidden sleeve without even knowing why, catching the flowers as the world fell away. 

It was lavender. 

The war was here on Naboo, making a home in its new Queen's stability and somber expression. She was made to rule for war. She would be forced to rule for war. She was a child; she was a beacon. She was cold and strong and everything the warm planet needed. She would be brave, fair, loved, beautiful, terrible, and mighty.

She would be Naboo itself. The ground beneath Ailani’s feet was now forced to be reborn; the planet itself had shifted, no longer bathed in golden light, and now covered in purple petals.

It was raining lavender.

The smell of it was repulsive, thick and heavy like blood.

Despite herself and the cheers, under the hood of her dark cloak, Ailani Réillata began to cry.

[paigemathews]

While it’s obviously canon that Chris has an inferiority complex to Wyatt, I think that Melinda also has a complex relationship with being “Wyatt’s sister” and how she’s viewed through that lens. It’s definitely not the same thing at all, but I do think that it’s definitely a factor for her relationship with Wyatt and the magical community as well. 

With that said, I don’t necessarily think that Wyatt really gets Chris or Mel’s issues with it, but I do think that he’s at least aware of them. There are a lot of italics in that sentence, but my main thought is that Wyatt has, at the very least, the knowledge that both of his siblings dislike the way that they’re perceived or seen through/as their relationship to him.

Which is why I think that one of the fastest ways to get Wyatt to like you, beyond just the immediate surface level, is to flip the script to prioritize Chris/Mel respectively. Like Bianca meets Wyatt and just goes, so you’re Chris’s brother and Wyatt is immediately like. I like her :)

[gravity-barbie]

Flirting with the umbrella academy women HCs

Request

A/N: If anyone wants to request anything else for just the girls, I would love that

Allison Hargreeves

-Allison finds your behaviour obnoxious but equally amusing, often rolling her eyes at you while trying to bite back a smirk

-She isn’t one to easily be swayed by praise and admiration (not anymore anyway), but there’s a certain open-heartedness to your words beyond the surface level flattery that she can actually appreciate

-In general she’s more attracted to people that carry themselves with a higher level of respectability than you, yet against her better judgment she finds something about you charming

-She gives you a lot of “seriously?”’s and “nice try”’s, but her delivery is friendly enough to keep you coming back for more

-Overtime as she gets more comfortable with you, she becomes increasingly willing to test the waters with flirtier comebacks to your pick up lines, granted they’re still subtler than anything you’ve come up with

-Though once she’s reached that point, and she figures she really does like you, she doesn’t waste any more time before asking you out

Lila Pitts

-The first time you hit on Lila, she is immediately impressed by your confidence, and readily flirts back, pretty much reflexively, she doesn’t think much of it

-However as it starts to become a reoccurring thing whenever she sees you, she starts to enjoy your presence more and more, and actively seeks you out when she’s feeling bored or lonely

-Your flirting sessions can get pretty intense and explicit, usually leaving anyone else in the room with you very uncomfortable

-While Lila would like to take things further with you, she also thinks that what you have now is kind of perfect, it’s all thrill and no feelings, you make her feel good but you can’t hurt her

-She runs a bit hot and cold on you whenever she’s trying to figure out how she really feels, you could get whiplash from from the way she seems like she’s about to ask you out one day, and then she’s acting like your bitter, jilted ex the next

-You need to be the one to let yourself be vulnerable and put your cards on the table first, Lila is scared enough of doing so without the fear that you’re not as serious about this as she is

Fei Hargreeves

-The way Fei responds is at least partially dependant on how good you actually are at flirting, if you’re unoriginal or seem fake she won’t pay you much mind, same goes for if it’s not just her you give this kind of attention to

-Even if she is into it, she acts like she’s above your nonsense, always talking around your flirts, but she lets a couple smirks slip out and makes sure to never say anything that could imply a rejection

-She has a knack for keeping her composure, which makes the scarce moments where you do get her to go a little red or stumble over her words all the more rewarding

-Sometimes you’d swear she’s baiting you into making one of your comments, focusing on you while making subtle innuendos, or taking opportunities to make physical contact with you

-It’s rare and only in private, but occasionally Fei does flirt back, and when she does, her skill and intensity completely outshines yours, you’ve been at this for weeks and almost nothing, but she leaves you a blushing mess on her first go

-As much as Fei enjoys this playful, thrilling portion of your relationship, she’s an efficient person and doesn’t let it go on for too long before making her move

Sloane Hargreeves

-Sloane is a little flustered by your forwardness but also flattered and charmed, frankly you don’t need to try very hard to win her over

-She turns into a lovesick schoolgirl around you, getting very giddy and talkative, hanging on to your every word, and just melting under every compliment you give her

-She hasn’t had many opportunities to practice flirting, but she tries her best to match yours, and she’s pretty much a natural, even if she usually comes across as more cute than seductive

-She’s quick to open up to you and seek a deeper, more intimate connection, because flirting is fun and all but she doesn’t want to get attached to you if this isn’t going to go anywhere

-Romantic that she is, Sloane will feel hurt if she gets the impression that you’ve just been messing around and distance herself, so it’s better to make a real move sooner rather than later

-She never really gets used to your remarks, no matter how far your relationship progresses, you can still make her blush like the first time you met

Jayme Hargreeves

-Jayme is unimpressed the first time you flirt with her and makes that no secret, but she also plays along by essentially saying “you’re gonna have to try harder than that” more out of curiosity than anything

-Of course you rise to the challenge, always greeting her with better material and sultrier body language, to which she always responds with a new, slightly less harsh insult than the one before

-When you’re more thoughtful about it, giving her a genuine compliment, or doing/getting something for her that shows you know her better than she thought, she can’t help feeling a little disarmed and endeared to you

-All Jayme’s negging is in a sense flirting, but beyond that she doesn’t really meet you half way, because she’s having fun, but she’d rather not let on to anyone that she’s going soft on you

-Though the second you flirt with someone else, she’s quick to turn around and act like you two have some kind of claim on each other

-So if for nothing else but to keep you out of someone else’s arms, Jayme decides to bite the bullet and ask you out, playing it off by saying she just couldn’t bare to see what lame attempt to woo her you come up with next