#she's not even evil! she genuinely believed in the order's mission but she changes her mind once she's presented with them being assholes

[hassianlovebot]

like on one hand i understand why people don't like subira at first, but i'm also getting tired of seeing people shit on her without actually getting to know her. and i know how that sounds, but she's literally fine. like yes death to cops but the in game order lady isn't the evil witch come to kill zeki and reth that everyone thinks she is. and they would know that,, if they did her quests,, or at least spoiled themselves and looked at the wiki,,,

it's getting embarrassing honestly

[melonsmessymusings]

So let’s finally talk about Giles and his suicide mission to stop Willow.

He arrived at the Magic Box with 100% certainty that in order to save Willow, he has to get the magic sucked out of him which will kill him. There’s a few things to discuss here:

1. Was it an impulsive decision? Last time he went on a kamikaze mission, it was an impulsive, emotionally charged attack. It’s possible this was the same given his teleporting at just the right moment. But what if it wasn’t?

Giles is a very depressed bastard, has been since S2. He’s exhibited self-destructive and suicidal tendencies on multiple occasions. I personally believe he’s in that really awful limbo of not wanting to actively try and end his own life but if it were to happen he’d be totally fine with it. A very dangerous mindset. Also, given his lifestyle it’s more than likely he has contingencies for when he dies. As if he hasn’t got a file with his will or whatever tucked in his bedside cabinet just in case.

2. The timing. Let’s say he was contacted about Tara’s death and Willow being all evil a few hours after it happened. He teleports into the Magic Box that evening. A few hours is more than enough time for Giles and an ENTIRE coven to exhaust all the research options. And I refuse to believe he was calm about it all either. Hello Mr Impulsive-Reckless-Decision-Maker.

3. He’s absolutely off his face on magic. Judging by the high Willow gets after she drains him, he’s absolutely buzzed. And remember, he’s a recovering magic addict. Knowing what that power does to him and how he changes, he chose to do that to himself. It’s interesting.

4. His demeanour when talking to Buffy in the training room. It’s giving last conversation vibes. He asks for forgiveness, which Buffy grants him and they laugh about the woes of existence. But when Buffy asks him what’s going to happen, he never refers to himself. He doesn’t believe he has a future. He doesn’t say that he’s personally going to take Willow to the coven, he says that the coven will find a way to extract the magic from her. It’s just... imagine how angry Buffy would be if she knew? She would knock the seven bells out of him for being stupid. I think if less had been going on, Buffy would’ve been a bit more like “ugh, why are you talking like that?”

I personally believe that after he left Sunnydale, Giles would’ve been hideously miserable in England. It’s likely the Council gave him some shitty research job and made a mockery of him for abandoning his Slayer. Or they genuinely didn’t know (but I doubt that). I don’t think he was happy. He was probably on his own and deliberately isolated himself from people as always. And he was so utterly defeated that he literally didn’t care about anything which is so sad.

[yellowocaballero]

Thoughts on the Obi-Wan's mindset during the whole Boba thing? The end of the Fishhooks sequel especially felt so bad when he took Boba's agency away. Like he NEEDED to try and figure out what was happening, but oof.

S weObi-Wan was seriously just meant to be a narrative tool for an actual action scene and someone to fight Jango, but his thematic significance ended up ballooning. It also made me realize that the absolute best canon Obi-Wan is a supporting character, there to solve every problem in 2 minutes and be as annoying as possible.

As is obviously evident, Obi-Wan catches one whiff of the situation and over-commits HARD. He doesn't even know what's going on, he just knows that these kids who act and feel like babykin and Anakin need rescuing (Please ignore Bad Batch: Omega looks exactly like a slightly younger, blonde Boba from AOTC, because pre-pubescent boys and girls are a little indistinguishable). He misinterprets the situation due to his personal biases, convinced that he can use this to change the past, but what stopped him in the past stops him again. Like Jango, his past freezes him.

By the end of the story, Boba admired Obi-Wan in a strange way: Boba's practical life has no room or allowance for kindness, and Omega needed that practicality to protect her. But practicality without kindness results in cruel and cold people, and Boba's glad that Obi-Wan can provide the kindness and gentleness that Omega needs (that Boba & Kamino can't provide) if she wants to grow up into a strong, kind person. Boba's glad that Obi-Wan was there, even if he is technically his enemy.

Anyway, Obi-Wan never forgives himself for the rest of time. Knight Guilt Complex NEVER gets over this. He's failed again. He's failed Anakin, again. Obi-Wan believes so strongly and uncomplicatedly that the Jedi code is always good, that it always results in the right thing, that being a Jedi always helps - and this moment really damages his faith in that. He's never thought of kindness and strength as mutually exclusive, and this is his first mega failure.

Two years later, we and Obi-Wan see the full picture and exactly how bad the situation is. You can pretty safely assume that during the Kamino tour, Obi-Wan interprets the situation as him not having failed two kids, but two hundred thousand kids. The Jedi Order has fucked up. Canon Obi-Wan doesn't react nearly this strongly because he doesn't really get the reality of the situation, but Canon Obi-Wan has not had a clone niece for two years! He's overwhelmed, horrified, disgusted, and confused. He's also doubting Omega, who has kept silent about all of this for 'Sith Lord in the Senate' reasons. You see him fall back strongly on the Wise Jedi :) thing here, but you also see it visibly crack way more than it probably ever has. He's never forgiven himself for the thing with Boba, and he feels like he's seeing exactly how badly he's fucked up.

Or, more precisely, how evil Jango Fett is he fucking HATES the man he is the WORST Jedi don't hate they DETEST they LOATHE Do as I say not as I do Anakin. It's heavily implied that the entire Council know about Obi-Wan's weird-ass conspiracy theory about Jango Fett and clones and pepe silva boards and god, please just focus on your mission, and why do you keep disappearing once a week, where do you even go. Hilariously, it's double implied Jango is the same way. The homoeroticism thing is a joke they just genuinely detest each other and everything the other represents. Obi-Wan thinks Jango is a far worse person than he actually is and Jango thinks Obi-Wan is literally out here trying to steal his baby. Babies. No, baby. Babies but only when you want her. Just baby otherwise. Okay well FINE you want her so bad you can HAVE HER Jesus who CARES I know objectively she's probably exactly as sentient as Boba is and I've never really been comfortable with that so if she's gone and happy then everybody wins. Are you happy now Boba? Boba? Boba are you happy now? :c

From then on, because the continuation is much less complicated than Fishhooks lmfao, Obi-Wan's just a foil for Jango. I believe firmly that foils should be the opposite and the same. He's all heart and no hardness (except for when he is); he cares deeply about the clones and wants to see their human sides (completely unknowing how to actually interact with them); he cares a lot about Boba's happiness and safety (that gets a little forgotten in favor of complete sniping). And, obviously, at the end, he's come down to Jango's level. No other choice.

I think I read a quote by perhaps glucas somewhere that 'the minute the Jedi agreed to fight they lost'. Obi-Wan choosing to become just like every other adult who took advantage of Boba, abandoning his rigid Jedi integrity for practicality, is the moment when the Jedi agreed to fight and the moment when the Jedi lost. His Jedi values that he treasured so much, that formed such a huge core of who he was, were why he couldn't save Boba. He compromised those values for the greater good, as all Jedi will soon learn to do, and he is now just like everyone else.

But also like he downloads the secret Kamino files, gives them to Omega, she discovers the chip conspiracy, yay happy ending clones all free galaxy dance scene droid head bongos etc.

Whew that was long. Please imagine all of the adorable cool cousins Anakin and Padme adventures (Padme shows up earlier because Anakin discovers that Obi-Wan has sex, I wrote this out but it sucks so I haven't posted it), the extremely bedraggled Uncle Obi-Wan adventures, and Omega mining bitcoin adventures. Obi-Wan is 5x as terrified of Cody as he is in canon, etc, thanks for reading!

[tornrose24]

My biggest problem with Aunt May in No Way Home

As much as I like MCU!May Parker, there was a moment in No Way Home where I wasn’t happy with her. Chances are you are like me and you noticed this too.

So May is the one who first suggests to Peter that he helps the five villains, rather than just send them home the way they are. However what I DIDN’T like about the moment was how she accuses Peter of being selfish and caring more about himself when he initially tells her that its better to send them back to their universes.

Let me outline why I have a problem with May here:

-I know that May works at a shelter and believes everyone deserves a second chance, but these are SUPERVILLAINS. The number of villains who got help or were redeemed (Nebula, Bucky, Ava, and Antonia come to mind) are far few compared to those who were beyond saving or were genuinely bad people.

-May also forgot that she’s living in a world where there’s supervillains and she should be aware just how dangerous most of them are. One of them killed her and Peter once before and another one outed Peter’s identity and framed him for murder. How is she sure that these guys would be any different?

-She’s only met Norman for about one day at most and she’s not aware as to just HOW dangerous he is as the Green Goblin (him in that room with her had me on edge because I felt that the Goblin was most likely still in control). She’s yet to actually meet any of the other villains and she doesn’t know how dangerous they can be.

-Hell, the Daily Bugle probably had the bridge fight shown for all of NYC to watch, so she would have seen how dangerous one of them could get.

-Its pretty bold of May to accuse Peter of being selfish in this situation when the reason why it began was because he was thinking of his loved ones first. He wanted that memory spell casted in order to protect his loved ones and to give back M.J. and Ned’s futures. He wasn’t even thinking of himself when he talked to the MIT lady.

Not to mention the fact that most of these villains would harm Peter and in some cases TRIED to by this point. So it never occurs to her that he’s trying to protect her and the others from them by sending them back home because it’s already bad enough that the public is against Peter. Moreso if any other villains want to go after him and those he is closest to.

-Also, she should NOT have had this discussion in plain view where Norman could hear any of this. It’s no wonder the Goblin accuses May of being Peter’s morality chain, claims he was forced to be part of her ‘holy mission,’ and then kills her later.

-Yes, I know that she didn’t have the best judgement with most of the villains the comic books either (considering that she completely misjudged Doc Ock(who was evil by choice in the main 616 universe) and thought he was a nice guy for a time). Still, this is NOT a situation that you should treat lightly.

-Ultimately Peter doesn’t stop Strange because of what Aunt May tells him to do. He stops Strange because by that point he just learned that some of the villains will be sent to their deaths. While its in Peter’s nature to want to save someone, he also found himself about ready to relieve the death of another because ‘its their fate’–which was what happened to his mentor. He doesn’t realize it’s within his power to change their fate until he’s in the mirror dimension and Strange tells him that he cannot do so.

-Peter may not have common sense or foresight half the time.... but he’s still just a kid who has already made a lot of selfless choices. May should NOT have been accusatory of him being selfish/taking the easy route by this point.

I feel like the dialogue could have been written differently with May. Like instead of ‘Better for them, or better for yourself,’ why not change it to:

MAY: And what if they can’t get the help they need? What if they never get it at all? They’re still people, aren’t they? Do you even know how they became the way they are now?

There! Isn’t that much better? It sounds less accusatory AND the Goblin could still see it as her forcing Peter to not take the easy way out/try to take away their power. Also it’d have an impact on the audience because we know the answers to those questions, which will foreshadow the dilemma Peter will soon face.

[emilyhufflepufftlk]

A Cruel Game | Sihtric x OC

In celebration of @for-bebbanburg’s well deserved 100 followers.

Prompt: ‘being ordered to kill someone you’ve fallen in love with. How did you get into this situation and what will you do next?’

Tove, one of Kjartan's best warriors, is sent to kill Sihtric after he defects to Uhtred. However, her feelings for him get in the way.

Word Count: 2926

‘There are only seven heads! Go out there and tell me who is missing!’ Kjartan screamed at the closest guard. The poor man looked terrified; the last man that had been sent beyond Dunholm’s walls had been beheaded by a horseman sent from corpse hall to take all their souls. He looked like he was going to refuse but one look at his lord clearly made him remember that Kjartan was willing to inflict just as much pain on his men as any demon horseman. The great doors creaked open and the poor man scampered along the line of spiked heads, his eyes constantly darting to the tree line in case the horseman should return.

‘Sihtric, lord,’ the man shouted back. ‘It is Sihtric that is missing!’

Three days had passed since the heads had appeared outside the walls of Dunholm. Three days Kjartan had spent in a seething rage. Whether his rage was due to him losing some of his best men, his plans to finally get revenge on Uhtred Ragnarson having failed, or the unknown whereabouts of his bastard son, no one was sure. Tove thought it was probably a combination of all three.

Tove had known Kjartan her whole life. Her father had been one of his most trusted, loyal warriors who had been by his side since the days he had served Ragnar the Fearless. After her father’s death in battle when she was only nine, Kjartan had taken her in out of respect for her father. Kjartan was a terrible, evil man and deserved his title as Kjartan the Cruel, but it seemed to Tove that he had genuinely liked and cared for her father. Tove, on the other hand, Kjartan neither liked nor cared for, but he had given her food and a roof over her head, he had let her train and learn to fight, and he had prevented any of his men from using her against her will. Tove owed Kjartan a lot, without him she would have been destitute with no family to turn to; she may not like him, she despised him even, but in many ways she was indebted to him.

‘The bastard has betrayed me!’ Kjartan roared, banging his first on the table. ‘He is probably telling Uhtred about our defences as we speak! I should have had him killed ages ago, like I did his mother.’

Tove flinched. When she had first arrived, she had been terrified. Kjartan, thinking little of her, had told her to sleep with the slaves and that is what she had done. Sihtric’s mother, Elflaed, had cared for her the best she could, her kindness immeasurable. Her gory death had hit her hard, although not as hard as Sihtric, of course. They were a similar age, and although Tove wasn’t a slave she wasn’t treated much better; Sihtric had it worse, the cruelty Kjartan showed his bastard son knowing no bounds, but they helped each other through it. She had held him in her arms the whole night as he had cried his heart out after his mother’s death, and from that night on they had only had each other.

‘We do not know he is with Uhtred,’ Sven pointed out, the only man brave enough to dare to contradict his father, ‘why would he want him? He is nothing – a nobody! He would be worthless to him.’

Tove made sure to keep her face blank, she did not wish for punishment, but inside she was laughing. Sven loved to say that Sihtric was worthless, but he was a better fighter than Sven would ever be. Over the years she had known him, Sihtric had grown into a man and a great warrior. She was sure Elflaed would’ve been proud.

‘He is with Uhtred!’ Kjartan shouted again, giving his son a look that made it clear there was no room for argument. ‘The bastard has betrayed me! He must die!’

‘But how?’ Sven asked, never having been the smartest. ‘Uhtred won’t be taken for a fool twice.’

‘No, he won’t. That is why we will send someone he does not suspect,’ Kjartan snarled, turning to face Tove with a grin that made her blood run cold. ‘Who would suspect a woman?’

Tove was no longer the scared little girl who had first arrived at Dunholm. She had learnt that men would only respect her if she learnt how to fight, so that is what she had done, and now, nine years later, she was a shieldmaiden and one of Kjartan’s best warriors. This mission was not so difficult; sneak unnoticed into Eoferwic, locate Sihtric, kill him, and return to Kjartan with his head. But this was no simple mission. As she rode out of the gates of Dunholm, Tove’s heart was almost jumping out of her throat and she felt completely sick. For the first time in years, she was afraid. Afraid of what she must do. Sihtric wasn’t just a friend; over the years, as they had grown older, they had become far more to each other than that. In truth she loved him, although she had never told him that. However, her feelings meant nothing. She had given her oath to Kjartan, sworn her sword and there was no going back from that. She had her orders and she must complete them.

The only hope she had left was that Kjartan was wrong, that Sihtric had escaped and fled well away from Northumbria, but that hope soon disappeared. It hadn’t been difficult to slip into the city, especially under the cover of darkness, just like Tove knew it would be – people never looked twice at women, probably assuming her to be a whore. She had located Uhtred’s men quick enough and there was Sihtric, looking as handsome as ever. No, he was more handsome, as for the first time in his life he had hope in his eyes and a smile, a real smile, on his face. She couldn’t blame him for defecting; Kjartan had never given him a reason to be loyal to him and, by the looks of his men, Uhtred seemed to be a decant lord. But this changed nothing, Tove reminded herself.

When Sihtric stood and walked away from the other men, probably going to take a piss, Tove took her chance. Sticking to the shadows, careful not to be seen, she followed him into a side alley. She must have made a sound as Sihtric stopped dead still, even drunk his senses were better than anyone’s. Not even thinking about it, Tove grabbed him and pressed him against the wall, her knife against his throat. His eyes widened, ‘Tove?’ he gasped. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Kjartan wants you dead and he sent me to do his dirty work,’ she said in a flat voice, trying to keep her emotions from showing on her face.

‘You’re going to kill me?’ he asked, no fear in his eyes.

‘I do not want to, but I will,’ Tove forced herself to say through gritted teeth. She did not want to do this, but what other choice did she have? ‘Please, Sihtric, I don’t want to do this. Leave Uhtred and flee south, I can tell Kjartan that you must have escaped and ran. If I come back empty handed and he gets word that you’re here, he will kill me! You know this! You have to run! Please!’ She was begging now, her voice cracking from the emotion rising inside her.

‘I can’t,’ Sihtric whispered. ‘I have sworn to Lord Uhtred and he is a good lord, a great lord. I will not abandon him. I will not break my oath.’ Tove shook her head, her blade still against Sihtric’s skin, hating Sihtric for his loyalty, but at the same time knowing that was one of the things she loved him for. ‘Tove, you don’t have to do this. You can abandon Kjartan and join Uhtred. Join me! We can be together – isn’t that what you want?’

Tears were building in her eyes. That was exactly what she wanted but it was something she could not have. ‘I can’t, Sihtric! I have sworn to Kjartan, just like you have sworn to Uhtred! I will not be an oath breaker! I won’t!’

‘But Kjartan treats you no better than a slave! When you swore your sword, he swore to protect you in return. He is not a good lord; the Gods cannot blame you for leaving a man like that!’

‘He has protected me, Sihtric! Yes, he is a cruel, vile man. Yes, he has not treated me kindly. But if it wasn’t for him, I would be lying dead in an alleyway or selling myself in a brothel by now! Before he took me in, I had nothing! I am indebted, Sihtric!’ Tove sobbed, tears spilling over and running down her cheeks as she realised there was no way out of this situation.

‘So kill me!’ he spat.

‘I will,’ Tove spat back, trying to muster her conviction.

‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ came a deep, Danish voice from behind her. Before she could turn to see who had sneaked up behind her, a pain blazed through her skull and she felt herself falling to the ground, before it all went black.

When Tove woke up it was light outside, although it was unclear how long she had been out for. Her head was extremely painful where she had been hit with what she suspected was a blunt object. She was in what looked like an unused part of a stable, her hands and feet tied together with rope. Looking up, she saw Sihtric sitting not far from her, meeting her eye when he noticed she was awake. He passed her a jug of water before getting up and leaving her, not saying a single word.

A few moments later he returned with two men. She was informed that the first man was Lord Uhtred, and the other man, who was huge with arms like tree trunks, was another Dane named Clapa. It had been Clapa that had knocked her out; no wonder her head hurt so much. ‘I understand that you’re called Tove?’

‘Yes, lord.’

‘The only reason you are still alive is because of Sihtric. He seems to believe that you might consider joining us. Help us against Kjartan.’

‘I’m sorry, lord.’ Tove said slowly, not looking Sihtric in the eye. ‘I’m afraid I cannot give you my sword nor my oath as they both belong to another. It is not for any love or loyalty to Kjartan that I refuse you, lord, but I cannot break an oath. I will not. And if that means I am to die, then so be it.’

Uhtred simply nodded in response. He and Clapa left soon after, leaving Tove alone with Sihtric. He came and sat on the floor beside her and took her bound hands in his. ‘He will not kill you; he respects you for not breaking your oath.’

‘Then what will happen to me?’

‘I don’t know,’ Sihtric answered with a deep sigh. They sat together for what seemed like hours, simply holding each other close like they always did back in Dunholm whenever life turned against them. The spinners seemed to have played a cruel game with them, making them fall in love only to tear them apart. ‘You have always been there for me, always. When I dreamed of escaping Dunholm, it was always with you by my side.’

She looked into Sihtric’s beautiful, mismatched eyes. ‘Me too. I never imagined a future without you in it. I knew that the future was unlikely to be kind to us, but I always felt it didn’t matter how hard it got so long as we were together.’ Tears once again fell over the brim of Tove’s eyes. Sihtric reached up and gently wiped them away with his thumb. His hands moved to cup her face and slowly brought her towards him. Their lips met in a gentle kiss, the contact bringing all the emotions Tove had tried to bury and ignore for the last few days back to the surface. This would likely be the last time she ever got to kiss him, and she didn’t want it to end, but he forced himself way. He looked guiltily at her, like he hadn’t meant to kiss her. ‘I don’t know what will happen to you, Tove. I’m sorry.’ With that he left, leaving her alone with her tears.

A week passed and there was still no decision on what Tove’s fate would be. It seemed Uhtred had more pressing matters to be concerned with. She saw little of Sihtric and when she did, he barely spoke a word to her.

It was early in the morning when she heard a clamour outside. She could hear Uhtred’s voice calling a woman’s name: ‘Gisela’ – he sounded desperate. Something was happening. Something was wrong. She heard someone running towards her corner of the stables and a few moments later saw Sihtric panting above her.

‘You have to go, now!’ he ordered her, in a rushed whisper. He undid the ropes binding her hands and feet and pulled her with him out of the stables. They ran through small backstreets of the city, which she assumed was to prevent them from being seen, his hand still firmly holding hers.

‘Sihtric, what’s going on?’

‘Lord Uhtred has been betrayed,’ he replied, emotion clear in his voice. ‘Guthred has sold him into slavery. Lord Uhtred was protecting you, now he is gone, you have been marked for execution.’

‘Won’t you get into trouble?’ she asked him urgently. She didn’t want him to be executed in her place.

‘Everyone’s too busy in the square to be worried about us. Come on!’

They reached a small side gate, a horse held by Clapa waiting for them. ‘Sihtric…’ she began. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, so many things she wanted to thank him for, but somehow all her words became caught in her throat. She threw herself at his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck as she buried her face into his shoulder to hide her tears. ‘I love you.’

He lifted her chin so that she was once again staring into those beautiful eyes. ‘I love you too.’ She grabbed the back of his head and brought him down into a passionate kiss, trying to convey everything she wanted to say but couldn’t into the action. ‘Now go,’ he urged her as they broke apart.

Tove pulled herself onto the horse and gave Sihtric one last desperate look before kicking hard and riding off into the Northumbrian countryside.

ONE YEAR LATER:

‘Every man to the walls! We are under attack!’ Tove grabbed her sword and shield along with all the other warriors of Dunholm.

Little had changed over the last year, apart from the large scar that now framed her face – a gift from Kjartan after her failure to kill Sihtric. Only the news that Uhtred had been enslaved and living a fate worse than death had saved Tove’s life, Kjartan too busy celebrating the news to bother with her too much. She had tried to keep Sihtric from her mind, but she had failed, finding herself thinking of him most days. She had thought she would never see him again, but she had been wrong.

As she ran into the courtyard towards the walls like she had been ordered to, a cry went up that there had been a breach – the enemy were within the walls. She turned, sword and shield in hand as she readied herself to slaughter the invading warriors but stopped still in her tracks. There was Sihtric, fighting alongside Uhtred.

A huge Dane came at Sihtric from behind. Sihtric was busy fighting off two other men and would be helpless to the new threat. Her feet began moving on their own accord, her body moving faster than her brain could comprehend. Before she knew what was happening, she was drawing her sword from the Danes neck and standing before a shocked Sihtric. More of Kjartan’s men came running towards them; Tove immediately moved so she stood back to back with Sihtric, ready to cut down her former comrades.

There was no time to talk. No time to explain how over the last year she had realised that she had made a mistake, that Kjartan was unworthy of her loyalty, that she should have sworn to Uhtred and been with Sihtric. All she could do was fight. It seemed she had made her choice; she had chosen to break her oath and kill those she was supposed to fight beside; but she realised to save Sihtric, she would do anything.

After the battle, Tove found Sihtric sitting alone just outside the main gates. The fortress bringing back too many memories for him to remain inside. Tove understood that. They sat in silence for a while, Sihtric’s hand in hers, their fingers laced together. ‘What happens now?’ she finally asked.

‘I go back to Wessex with Lord Uhtred. What will you do?’

‘I would like to come with you. Serve Lord Uhtred – if he’ll have me,’ she said with a slight smile. ‘I just want to be with you.’ Sihtric beamed at her and placed his arm around her, bringing his head forward so their foreheads touched. They were together, and in that moment, that was all that mattered.

[behindheremeraldeyes]

damirae week 2021 friday, may 7th: nightmares & mythology

title: unholy balance

summary: "He knows the stories about her. The prophecies that carry her fate are no stranger to his troubled heart, to the point where he can recite them word by word, threat by threat.” - Greek AU-ish Ao3

Years of coming and going through those silent woods, and yet, his eyes have never once seen the sun kiss her skin. Every day and every night— every winter and every summer— she’s trapped inside that dome, caged and exposed like the living statue they need her to be. He knows the stories about her. The prophecies that carry her fate are no stranger to his troubled heart, to the point where he can recite them word by word, threat by threat.

Decades before either of them were even born, the oracles foresaw that a girl born during the blood moon would be the balance between doom and salvation. She alone would withhold the power to keep evil under control and protect the world from eminent destruction. A genuine gift sent by the gods so that men would be able to prosper without ever knowing things such as hatred, anger, poverty or sickness.

When the said girl was finally born, then, all the people gathered to celebrate the beginning of a new era, and before she even had the chance to become a child, she was already turned into a blessing. They named her Raven as to symbolize wisdom and longevity. She was a lovely girl and even if their days of playing around in the streets didn’t last long; he has always cherished them with all of his heart.

Everyone who had the chance to meet her could see how pure her heart was, and if anything, they believed she could use that heart of hers to save the world. She had enough goodness in her for that, and as long as she kept on smiling, they knew things would eventually work out. However, even if most people believed she was meant only to bestow grace upon them, the oracles knew better than to ignore the most crucial part of the prophecy. The old texts describe her as a balance, after all, and the slightest mistake can make it hang the wrong way.

As ordered by the village’s council, then, she was to be kept away from everything and everyone who could distract her from her celestial mission, and since no one objected— no one with the power to, at least— they were quick to build her a place where she could focus on her prayers. With her childish features and her amethyst eyes; she was thrown into her own private sanctuary, where she could be adored, but never disturbed.

Seen, but never loved. Not truly.

Ever since she was imprisoned, her voice was never heard, her skin never touched. People can approach her dome in order to steal a glance and leave her some offerings for the sake of their crops, but that’s as far as they will go. Eventually, they all walk away with smiles on their faces, and they don’t come back until the season changes or they need her for something else. Some of them never really return.

That has been her life for at least 16 years now. Their life, actually, for he has been observing her never-changing routine ever since he was selected to be one of her guardians. And though the Wayne heir has always prided himself in the way he keeps his emotions at bay, something about this— about her— makes his blood boil in pure annoyance.

Perhaps it’s because they used to play together or even it’s just his way to express his discontentment with the place he was raised in, but Damian hates seeing her like that. Trapped in her own blessing, she was deprived of every choice in her life, simply because she was born on that stupid night. They’ve filled the folks’ heads with a curse that would befall upon them if she were to stray from her path, and the worst part—

The worst part is that she believes those words. She really believes she has a duty to fulfill, a life to sacrifice in the name of a greater good.

Bullshit, he thinks.

That girl was meant to be special. Meant for greater things and wider horizons, however, they’ve given her the responsibility to hold the world’s weight in her tiny hands. No one dares to move a muscle to help her, and if anything, they count on her not to drop it because, if she does—well— may the gods have mercy on their pathetic souls.

It’s not fair. She deserves so much more than just this, but apparently, he’s the only one who thinks like that and who has actually tried to do something to help her.

One night, years before he was even assigned to his current position, Damian snuck into her pristine garden. As the skillful warrior he was trained to be, it was quite easy for him to pass through the guards and reach her dome. He knocked on the glassed wall, and after a few seconds, she came into view. She had grown considerably since the last time they had met, her face thinner and more delicate. Her beauty was breathtaking and her amethyst eyes mesmerizing. Until today, he doesn’t believe he has ever seen a girl as graceful as her.

The ivory skin contrasted with her dark hair, and there was a fleeting essence in her features that made his chest grow tighter. A sad and ephemeral beauty, hidden from the rest of the world. He couldn’t find it in himself to look away, and for a moment, Damian understood why people would come to see her.

Looking at her brought him peace. However, her sadness broke his heart.

‘Come with me. I can get you out of here and you can be free’, he remembers telling her, promising to keep her safe. He had meant every single word he told her that day. Every promise regarding a better future— every new sky he wanted to show her— but it was all meaningless. Raven gave him no answer, instead choosing to offer him an apologetical smile that spoke volumes.

She couldn’t go with him. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she couldn’t be that selfish. Not when the world depended on her.

And so, he left as if he had never been there to begin with. Although he hated that village, Damian forced himself to stay, and when he was old enough, he took upon himself the job to keep her safe. He became her guardian, vowing to stay by her side, waiting for the day when she would grow tired of all that hypocrisy.

Waiting for the day when the balance would finally hang to the wrong side.

He has kept on visiting her at least twice a week, their eyes exchanging silent promises that might never be fulfilled. They don’t talk, no, but he can’t bring himself not to go. It’s stronger than him. Seeing her makes him feel at ease, and deep inside, he hopes one day she will make up her mind and ask him to take her out of there. He wants to be there when she makes that decision. And until that day comes, silently, he shall wait.

Today, though, he stands on his spot like every other day, clad in his green and gold armor. His emerald eyes are set on her small prison, and there isn’t one day when he doesn’t wish for it to fall apart. For it’s spring, the garden looks exceptionally beautiful, with the prettiest flowers of the land blooming just for her. He likes to think nature does that on purpose, provoking her with its true colors and teasing her to leave the comfort of her imprisonment.

The other guards are far from him and even further from her shrine. Soon, their shift will end and others will come so they can continue their full-time surveillance. It’s another day like so many others, with a sky just as blue.

However… something feels different.

Perhaps it’s the chilly breeze of the upcoming autumn, or even the unusual silence enveloping the area— Damian can’t quite pinpoint. Something is uncharacteristically unnatural, and he knows it’s got something to do with her. His eyes drift towards her dome, his lips pressed in a thin line. He can feel the weight of his sword hanging from his waist, and all of his senses are oddly alarmed.

The world beneath his feet is alive, he can feel it in his core. The change is coming, and perhaps the balance is tilting.

His eyes blink, and suddenly, nothing is what it was. The ground is shaking, birds are flying away from their nests, and dark clouds are gathering above their heads. Damian sees the other guards looking around, confused, and once everything seems to settle, a horrified scream tears reality apart. It’s her, he knows. She’s the one who’s screaming and before he can even think through, his feet are desperately taking him towards her dome.

His heart is beating faster now, and he knows it’s not because of the run. Something’s wrong with her and he needs to do something before it’s too late. The clouds are growing darker, lightnings roaring inside, but his feet can’t move any faster— god knows they’re trying to. However, all of his efforts prove themselves useless when an energy burst sends him and all the other guards flying backwards. His back hit the ground with a loud thud, all the air from his lungs escaping through his lips.

What on earth did just happen?

His green eyes are wide now as everything he has judged to be a lie is happening right in front of him. The wind is blowing violently, his soul shaking in sudden fear, and a crimson vortex emerges from the celling of her dome, ripping it all apart. This isn’t good. This isn’t normal. It’s too powerful and too maleficent to be fought back with his bare hands. Right now, he knows his priority is to take her and run towards a safer place. Damian needs to find her. He needs to save her.

While all the other guards are running away from the epicenter of the chaos, he’s the only one running towards it. He doesn’t allow his own heart time to be scared as he’s already rushing inside, his eyes scanning the place in search of her. Broken glass is scattered across the floor, and for her cage is quite small, it doesn’t take him long to find her.

Raven is kneeled down on the floor, her purple robe covering her small body and shards threatening to pierce through the skin of her legs. Her hands are covering her ears and a painful expression is taking over her demeanor. “Stop! Make it stop!” She mumbles, shaking her head and causing her hood to fall back. Her dark locks are falling forward now, brushing her tear-stained cheeks.

She’s completely different from the girl he first met all of those years ago. She’s scared— powerless, even— and all of that celestial composure of hers is nowhere to be found. Raven has lost control over whatever it was she has been keeping inside for all of these years, and even if he knows they’re due to suffer the consequences of her outburst, he couldn’t care less about that.

Right now, he only cares about her.

“Raven!” Her name rushes out of his tongue in an exasperated tone, and soon, he’s kneeling down in front of her. His hands are quick to touch her trembling shoulders, making her head shoot up in pure shock. Amethyst eyes are now locked with his emerald ones, and even if they’re still filled with horror, now he can see traces of relief in her irises. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Damian, I-I…” She starts, stumbling upon her own words. Her voice is a bit hoarse from the lack of practice, but when she says his name, it’s still as melodic as he remembered it to be. “I’ve set it free, Damian. I couldn’t control it and now it’s free!”

“What!? What is free, Raven? Tell me.” He asks, his eyes frantically scanning her body as he searches for any bruise or anything that might suggest she’s hurt. At first glance, thankfully, he finds nothing.

She looks straight at him, and Damian can tell she’s debating whether or not to tell him the whole thing. Eventually, then, she closes her eyes, more tears streaming down her face and her knuckles turning white as she tightens her grip around herself. Her slender fingers reach for her head, tracing the opaque red crystal that decorates her forehead.

“My father. He’s been trapped inside this crystal ever since I was born, and I had the job to make sure he never escaped. But now…” The girl bites her trembling lips, and she takes one last breath before continuing. “But now he’s free and he will use all of his demonic powers to spread evil and misfortune all over the land. It’s just like the prophecy said, and now I’ve ruined everything.”

“Hey, don’t say that! You were trying your best.“

“It was never about trying, Damian! I had a duty to fulfill, and I failed! All of those years trapped inside that stupid dome for nothing! People are going to die and it’s all my fault!”

His heart is breaking as she speaks, despair lacing every word that leaves her mouth. His brows furrow in condolence, as he can only watch as she cries like a small child in front of him. She feels responsible for all of this, of course she does. After so many years of being told she was the person who had to keep all the evil inside, it’s only natural that she would eventually believe all of those things. Guilt is now getting the best of her, and he’s not doing anything about it. She’s hurt and lost, and all he can do is watch.

Great fucking job, he thinks, anger running through his veins. Now that the balance has finally weighted to the wrong side— now that she’s finally free like he wanted to— he can’t find it in himself to help her. What’s he supposed to do? Damian knows better than to lie to her. He knows she won’t be convinced by his words if he simply says it was not her fault. He cannot tell her everything is going to work out, no. For all he knows, things might never get back to the way they used to be.

Life might never be simple again. He won’t go back to his job as her guard, and she won’t ever go back to that dome of hers as their protector.

Things are going to change.

And perhaps that’s not something that bad, is it?

Now that she has released the evil that was trapped inside of her crystal, she’s finally free to roam the world and do as she pleases. Raven is free to touch the trees and smell the flowers as much as she wants. No more dome to keep her trapped, and finally, she will be able to feel the warmth of the sun touching her skin.

Maybe he’s not taking things as seriously as he should be, but this new life doesn’t seem so bad. Any life where there’s a slight chance for her to be happy is a life worth fighting for.

And that’s exactly what he’s going to do. He will fight for her. For her freedom and for her chance to make her own choices. He will fight because, deep inside, he knows there’s still—

“Hope.” He murmurs, almost as a whisper, but it’s loud enough for her to hear. Once more, she’s looking at him with hopeful eyes, and his heart is beating faster than before.

“What?” She asks, confused, the tears stopping for a moment.

“Hope, Raven.” He starts, his calloused hands now reaching for hers. He caresses her skin with his thumb, a tender expression now spread across his face. “As long as you’re still alive, there’s still hope. Your father might have escaped, sure, but you’re the one who has kept him sealed for all of this time. You’ve done it once, I’m sure you can do it again.”

Her ribcage is moving up and down, her eyes looking at their connected hands. His toned skin against her ivory one makes his chest feel slightly warmer, and he’s glad to see that her shoulders are no longer trembling. “How do you know it? How can you be so sure of that, Damian?”

“I’m not.” He starts, his grip on her hand growing a little stronger. “But I have hope, Raven. As long as you’re here, with me, I have hope.”

Her eyes are looking at him with enough intensity to make his heart skip a beat. He knows she’s looking for a breach in his confidence, but when she finds none, he can feel her hand relaxing under his touch. Her eyes are now brimming with new tears, and in an impulse, Raven throws herself over him, her small hands tugging on his armor. She presses her face against his chest and his arms are fast to welcome her in a warm embrace.

She must have missed this, he thinks. Human contact, that is.

A person to hold her and who believes her, even if she doesn’t. A person to bring hope into her despairing world.

“It’s okay.” He whispers, bringing her closer while she cries her heart out. “You’ll be okay.”

Raven has been deprived of so many things for so long, and he wonders if she even remembers when it was the last time she has felt another person’s touch. He’s hugging her so tightly right now, as if she might disappear if he’s not careful enough. Her tears are soaking his cloth, and perhaps that’s the proof he needs to be sure that she’s not going anywhere. Not anymore.

He holds her like that until her exhausted body gives up and she falls asleep. Her breathing pattern is slower now, and he doesn’t dare move in fear of waking her up. Tomorrow, when she’s awake, they can think about what to do next and how to solve their problems. Tomorrow, things will be different.

After so long, at last, a new dawn awaits for both of them.

fin.

-----

a/n: So, for this prompt, I’ve tried to play around a little with Pandora’s myth and I’m happy with how it’s turned out (maybe I could’ve done something different, but more than anything, I wanted to keep it “short”). There are a lot of nice things involving greek mythology, and the stories have always fascinated me. I hope you guys have enjoyed this one, and please, tell me your opinion! It means a lot.

[bisexualsforprompto]

Secret Santa Piece

Merry Christmas Nieri! @myblacknightworld​ I was your ss for @maribat-secret-santa-2020

Hope you enjoy this! (Also I had more planned out so I’m thinking of making a part 2, lmk if you’d like me to Nieri)

All monsters were evil and terrible creatures that needed to be brought down. That’s what Damian was taught since birth. He learned how to trap monsters and kill them with his mother, but killing was quickly replaced with simply capturing once he went to live with his father.

Track, trap, capture, repeat. The same old song and dance every time. Thankless work really, especially because his identity as a Junior Hunter was a secret, but he was helping the human race by locking up these monsters. That was enough for him at the moment.

Damian had hoped to graduate from his ‘junior’ title sooner rather than later though. It was so agitating to be lumped in with amateurs, sheep, who did nothing but follow him blindly. 

He should’ve been just a Hunter from the moment he came to live with his father, but according to his siblings, everyone had to go through this ‘junior’ nonsense.

He had been a Junior hunter for six years though. Something had to change. He was good enough, he knew he was. So why wasn’t he getting the title he deserved?

Father never listened to him, always telling him to “be patient” or “ask your brothers and sisters, they had to do the same.” 

There was something his father had to be hiding. A secret way to become a Hunter and ditch his junior rank. 

He knew that in order to move himself up he’d have to do something mind-blowing, something that was unquestionably beyond the level of a novice to perform.

Luckily, he had the perfect plan.

Capture the elusive Ladybug Witch.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

As per the usual, Marinette was running late. She had stayed up late last night trying to concoct the perfect brew for Rose, who had gotten a cold just before a Kitty Section concert. It wasn’t easy, Marinette usually based her potions off of currently existing medicine, but there were very few medicines effective against the common cold. She spent hours paging through her spell book, consulting her old master’s spell book and even bothering her familiar in the middle of the night (though Adrien claimed he was happy to help). 

After an exhausting, sleepless night, she managed to do it. It took a lot out of her, but when she finally trudged herself to school she smiled. The look on Rose’s face was worth it. 

Rose had been so excited she almost transformed into her siren form, which could’ve been disastrous. Rose’s songs in her mythical form were just as loud as her usual voice. Humans would probably be attracted to the school and that wouldn’t do at all. 

Their school, strictly for mythical creatures to have a safe and happy education, was barely known to the outside world. Most mythics lived in Paris or somewhere near, it was a safe haven free from hunters. But of course, nobody could stop humans from living in Paris, and in order to keep Paris the safe haven it boasted to be; mythic-only places had to be secret.

Marinette knew that her reputation as a witch spread across the globe, people calling her the “Lucky Witch,” “Ladybug Witch,” or some other variation. She had her identity sealed off by powerful magic; one would have to be extremely talented or well-connected to get past it. Still, if even one person found out: game over. Marinette lived to help people, ever since she was a child all she wanted was to help others, but she couldn’t do that if the self-proclaimed “monster hunters” killed or captured her.

She genuinely wanted to believe that everyone had a good side, but she refused to risk the fates of others on gut feelings.

Sighing, Marinette felt herself enter into a tired daze. She hadn’t even realized that she fell asleep until she felt Alya poke her on the head.

“You okay, girl?”

Opening her eyes slowly, Marinette nodded. She straightened herself out, “Yeah, I’m fine—hey where did everyone go?”

Alya giggled, “School is over, Marinette. You slept through everything!”

“WHAT?!” Marinette shot herself up, glancing up at the clock in the class that did in fact say: classes were over. Marinette slumped back down into her seat and banged her head on the desk. She let out a long groan.

“C’mon,” Alya said, helping Marinette up, “You better get home, and maybe go to bed early tonight! Or else this will just happen again…”

“I will, I will.” Marinette huffed, “Believe it not—I’m still tired.” As if on cue, she yawned.

“Get home safe, okay?” Alya said, patting her friend’s head, “Call me if you need anything.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Marinette said, slowly trudging out of class as Alya walked away.

Marinette found herself walking down her street in just the blink of an eye. She yawned slightly and began to stretch. She saw a flash of white in her vision. She stopped mid-stretch. “Huh?”

A small white cat waltzed up to her, limping. Marinette noticed it’s broken leg right away. “You okay there little guy?”

She reached down to pet it and soothed it, “It’s okay.” The cat purred. Marinette dropped to her knees. She quickly surveyed the area making sure no one was around.

The street seemed deserted save for herself and the cat. She pulled her backpack off and unzipped it. Inside was a large book, her spell book. She slowly lifted it out, trying not to make any sudden movements and scare the cat.

Flipping open to the page she needed, she placed a palm on the cat’s bad leg. She muttered a short incantation. The leg was soon swarmed by a pink glow and little ladybugs. 

The cat mewled with happiness, giving Marinette a nudge of gratitude before scampering off. 

Marinette picked herself off, about to go home when she suddenly heard a yowling followed by a human hiss.

She tilted her head to the side and slowly crept out to see the commotion.

The cat she had just saved had scratched a boy. A boy who was staring at her like a deer caught in headlights.

~•~•~•~•~•~

Damian hadn’t meant to lose sight of the mission so quickly. He was looking for the Ladybug Witch in Paris, or, Marinette Dupain-Chang. It wasn’t that hard to figure out her identity. He was able to break her silly seal on her identity by contacting his exorcist acquaintance: Jon Kent. 

Jon gave him some kind of anti-magic charm which Damian used to break the seal. All kinds of magic nonsense that Damian didn’t care to understand. 

But even dealing with magic and Jon had been worth it when the name “Marinette” became clear. Damian rushed over to Paris right when he found out; totally not stealing his father’s jet (oh well—his father wouldn’t care when he brought him the Ladybug Witch). 

He had stationed himself right next to the witch’s school, just far enough away to be inconspicuous, but still spot her. 

Damian watched as several abominations left the school, he could tell they were monsters immediately: just having that evil aura about them.

But they weren’t the mission. Giving his father intel about a whole school for monsters would surely help him move ranks, but it wouldn’t grant him the instantaneous promotion he so desired.

He waited for the witch, seeing no one who looked like her exit the school. Soon, only one person was trickling out of the school: not his target.

Damian huffed, putting down his binoculars. Suddenly he heard a rustling towards him: it wasn’t the evil witch rather the opposite.

A good cat.

Damian hid a smile, slowly extending his hand to pet it. The cat shrieked and ran away, though, with a limp.

Damian slowly began to follow it, an injured cat wouldn’t do on his watch. If he could just get a little bit closer…

He didn’t want to scare the cat, but he didn’t want it to scamper off before he could help it. 

Damian let out a low sigh, deciding to stop near an alley he saw it walk past. He figured maybe if he laid low and hid for a second, the cat might circle back.

He sat still in the greenery, waiting for the cat to come. After a while he heard some faint voice say something intelligible. He peeked through a corner to see the cat, and some girl. Some girl performing magic…

Damian resisted the urge to gasp: it was the Ladybug Witch. He observed the situation, feeling direly like he should go in and stop what was happening. The witch seemed to be chanting a spell on the poor cat, who knows what it could do…

Before he let himself jump in though, he saw a swarm of ladybugs surround the cat, and just like that: it walked off.

No broken leg.

So the witch had healed the cat? How odd...Were her boons only again humans? Why would she save an animal?

Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed that the cat had come to him and scratched him, not till his body let out a hiss. 

He froze. He heard footsteps moving towards him.

He wasn’t ready to capture her! He needed more intel first! His mind went haywire as the witch approached closer. Suddenly, she was facing him directly.

Damian lept backwards, “Stay back, Witch.”

The girl’s eyes flashed with panic for a minute before focusing on him, “You’re hurt.”

Damian nodded, “Don't think this makes me an easy target. I am here to capture you: Ladybug Witch, and I will accomplish my goal.”

The witch looked at him sympathetically, “I’m not going to hurt you, just—here…”

She whispered something underneath her breath. Ladybugs swooped around him, seemingly attacking his stretched arm. He tried to swat them away to no avail, but no luck.

They disappeared on their own just after. And just as they had disappeared, so had his scar, and all the pain…

Damian marveled in wonder at the new feeling. He let out a yelp of surprise, “What did you do?!”

“Please be calm,” she stated, “I only healed you.”

She gave him a warm smile, “I’m Marinette, and you?”

“Not interested, did you not hear me say I’m here to capture you? I’m a hunter.”

The witch sighed, “I know, I just thought…”

“That you could brainwash me with your magic?!” Damian yelled.

Marinette stared at him quizzically before bursting out with laughter. Damian felt his cheeks go hot, he folded his arms.

“Is that what you humans really think of us?”

“Witches are monsters and evil so forgive me for being cautious.” Damian said sarcastically.

She looked sad at that, “Evil?” She asked out loud.

“Yes,” Damian stated, “your kind has tortured ours for generations.”

The witch looked angry at that, “That’s not true! Was it not so long ago that so-called monsters and humans lived in harmony?! We have never taunted your kind, you taunted ours. Why do you think I kept my identity a secret?”

“So no one knows of your misdoings.”

Hurt flooded her bluebell eyes, “I only want to help people.” 

“So do I!” Damian shouted.

“So...we’re after the same thing?”

“We are certainly not!” Damian exclaimed, “Monsters are evil and hunters are good. You want to help no one but yourself.”

“Then why would I help you?!”

“To give me a false sense of security!”

“You are absolutely...impossible!” The witch said, tugging at her hair. She sighed, “Come on.”

“Huh?” Damian asked, feeling her take him gently by the arm, “Where are you taking me? Unhand me!”

“Let me show you that monsters aren’t bad, please. If you still think they are once I am done, I will let you capture me.”

“Fine, I suppose…” He glared at her, “But if you try anything I won’t hesitate to—“

Rolling her eyes, the Ladybug Witch scoffed and waved her hand, “Yes, yes, I know.”

Slowly, they began to walk through the city. More and more people seemed to pass by as they walked for what felt like hours until they reached their destination. A small, deserted alleyway.

Damian would be lying if he said the locale didn’t make him skeptical.

“Marinette!” Someone shouted, a blaze of black dashing towards them before leaping into said woman’s arms. Damian was more than shocked to see a purring boy with cat ears and a tail snuggled into Marinette’s arms. 

The cat boy suddenly darted his piercing green eyes back at Damian. He opened his mouth, showing his fangs, and hissed. Marinette bapped him on the head, “He’s a friend. Stand down, Kitty.”

“Well I wouldn’t say I’m a friend but—“ Damian ceased his murmur when cut off with a glare from both Marinette and the boy in her arms.

“Uhm hunter, this is Adrien. He’s my familiar.” 

“Hunter? That’s a weird name,” Adrien mused to himself. Marinette sucked in a breath. He shrugged, “Nice to meet you Hunter.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “My name isn’t Hunter, that’s just my title. I am Damian Wayne, monster hunter.”

Adrien stared back at Marinette in disbelief, “A hunter?! What were you thinking bringing a hunter here?!”

Marinette sighed, “Damian thinks that monsters are all horrible creatures—“

“That’s not true!” Adrien yelled, “Mythics are just peaceful creatures! Hunters are the ones destroying that peace.”

Marinette went on, “So I wanted to show him that not all monsters are bad.”

Adrien perked up, “Oh, well that’s easy! Glad you’re having an open mind, Damian!” He lept to Damian, hugging him.

Looking disgusted, Damian pushed Adrien off, “Great, now can we get on with this?”

Marinette nodded, “Yes, I brought you here because this is where Adrien and I start our patrol. I want you to watch us work, then you can see we save mythics and humans alike, and these so-called monsters in Paris are really just kind creatures.”

“Fine, but our deal still stands, if I see even one suspicious thing from a monster…”

“Deal? What’s he talking about Mari?” Adrien asked, looking up at his counterpart.

Marinette rubbed her temples, and muttered, “I said that if he didn’t believe me I’d let him capture me.”

“YOU WHAT?!”

“Calm down Adrien,” Marinette smiled, “We only have to do what we always do. We’ll be fine.” She squeezed his paw lightly. “Ready to fully transform?”

“I guess,” Adrien said, “But I don’t like this.”

Adrien then shifted into a fully black cat. He jumped onto Marinette’s shoulder. Marinette reached for a ladder in the alleyway, “Ready Damian?”

“Yes…” Damian said, puzzled, “But do you not have a broomstick to ride on.”

Marinette giggled, “No! That’s a misconception. Witches can perform levitation spells, but I much prefer to survey from rooftops rather than the sky. It’s scary way up there.” 

She shuddered, then began to climb the ladder, Adrien tucked into her arm. Damian eyed the pair then slowly followed after them. 

They quickly arrived on a tall roof, overlooking a good portion of the city. Breathing in the fresh air, Marinette placed Adrien down, giving him room to switch back. She looked into the horizon and clutched her spellbook to her chest

“Now what?” Damian asked impatiently.

“I’m going to cast a spell that lets me have the ability to hear things all over the city so I can listen for those who need help.” Marinette said paging through her book. She whispered a short phrase in a foreign tongue and cupped her eyes.

After a brief pause Damian tsked, “Doesn’t seem to be working.”

Adrien smirked, “It is, just let her work her magic.”

With a gasp Marinette uncupped her ears, “A mugging in an alley south of the Louvre.”

“Got it!” Adrien exclaimed, turning into cat form and leaping into the distance. 

“Hold on to me,” Marinette said, extending her hand.

Damian looked at it skeptically, “Why?”

“I’m going to teleport us there, I have Adrien scout everything out beforehand. Since we’re connected he can speak to me telepathically and let me know the best time to get the drop on the bad guy.”

Still eyeing her suspiciously, Damian gingerly took her hand.

“It’s time,” she breathed, “Hold tight.”

In a flash they appeared behind a buff middle aged man attacking a younger boy. Marinette sprung into action, casting a quick spell to tie the attacker up. Adrien appeared at her side quickly and shifted, carrying the would-be mugger out into the open.

“T-thank you,” the boy stuttered, “But...how did you? Are you magical or something?”

Marinette gave him a soft smile and took both Adrien and Damian’s hands, teleporting away.

Damian gaped at her when they arrived back to the familiar rooftop, “You saved a human.”

Marinette nodded, “I save anyone in need, no matter what species. Everyone deserves help; ‘all that’s necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.’ I was telling the truth when I said mythics weren’t evil.”

Damian huffed, “What exactly am I supposed to think? My whole life I’ve been told monsters are evil, what makes you think one act would convince me otherwise?”

“Because I believe in you.” Marinette took his hand in her own, “I know you want to believe it, you’re a good person at heart: I can see it. Just trust me, please.”

Damian hesitated before scowling and giving her a slight nod.

Marinette smiled brightly. Damian looked up at her, it was surely not the smile of evil.

[lia-jones]

The Keeper's Journal - Chapter Three

Author's note: OMG, beautiful people! I was so convinced I had already posted chapter three of the Keeper's Journal! Ok, so I have bad news and good news. Bad news is there will be no new content next Monday because I will be spending my Easter stuffing my face with chocolate (and writing, just not posting). Good news is today, because I am a dummy, instead of getting one chapter from the Keeper's Journal, you get two. And hold on to your hats, because chapter number four... (Reactions, please, reactions, I'm so excited!) Let's get this party started (put some mystery music on, experience the immersion, you'll love it)!

She needed to stay true to the mission if she wanted to succeed. She should remain unbiased, her heart cold and unfeeling, impervious to emotion. This was the greatest danger in entering someone’s mind, the ability to affect one’s own. If one spends too much time drilling into the other, some things seem to permeate to one’s self, and if not careful, change them forever.

This man had a mind like Psyche had never seen.

She observed him as he sat, glass of wine in hand, twirling it to feel its aroma, waiting, better, hoping that some evil or more revealing thought crossed his mind so she would have reason to harm him, like she intended to. But she saw nothing.

There wasn’t a trace of destruction in this man, quite the contrary. He was good, genuinely good. Psyche was used to men wanting to have her and sleep with her. She had seen on countless occasions how they fantasized about having her, even against her will. This man respected her, cared for her thoughts, nurtured her. As she drew him towards her, she felt drawn too. Like a moth to a flame. Inexorably, unpredictably, inexplicably.

She walked the dark streets a second time, already knowing what was expected of her. She knew what they would ask her. To bring the man in, to melt his mind, to take his seed and kill him. The full control of the lineage, the birth of the savior within grasp.

She touched her stomach absentmindedly. No, she wouldn’t allow that to be. She needed to protect the man and his lineage at all cost.

The door opened on its own again, inviting her into the pitch dark. She guided herself by touch alone, her hands scratching the old wallpaper. Far in the distance she could see several lit candles, their flames reflecting on the marble floor. And then she understood why her Handler was always so confident no one would attack them. The house shifted, the rooms changed. According to where the person should be led. She wondered what kind of dangers a trespasser would find should he go in.

“I’m here, my Handler.” She announced, but this time didn’t remove her cape.

“I can see you, Psyche.” Her Handler answered. “So can they.”

She looked around, finally noticing the many people in the room, pressed against its walls.

“Your time has come, my child.” She heard a female voice. “Prove your worth.”

It was now or never. She had to do something.

“I’m afraid I come empty-handed.” She bowed. “The man I was reading is not the man I was looking for. I ask your forgiveness for my mistake, and the opportunity to mend it. Let me continue my investigation.”

“Do you really believe it’s not him?” Her Handler spoke, and she could feel the deep pain in his heart. “Even you, Psyche?”

“I’m afraid the rotten apple has spoiled the whole batch.” Another voice chimed in. “But this one will not get away.”

“No.” The female voice spoke again, walking into the light. “This is the real rotten apple. She loves him.”

Her Handler looked at her with disgust.

“How could you?” He spat at her. “I loved you like my ‌own daughter.”

“Grab her.” The female voice ordered. “After she tells us what she knows, she can be disposed of.”

Five men came from the darkness, grabbing her by the hair, pulling her towards the end of the room.

“I carry his child!” She yelled, desperate. “Do you understand what that makes me? Can you imagine the power I have in me now?”

The commotion stopped, the men dropped her to the ground, remaining motionless. She stared into the eyes of the few people she could see. They were all void of any volition.

“Let’s get this over with.” She focused on the female voice, and an elderly woman came forward, slowly, her face blank, her eyes glazed like she was in a trance. “Walk towards the flame.”

And she did. The elderly woman walked to the candle, leaning the hem of her robe against it, letting it catch fire. One by one, all the people in the room, including her Handler, walked towards the woman and held her, setting each other on fire like a row of matches. And there they stood, quietly, like lambs waiting to be slaughtered, waiting for the flames to consume them.

Psyche left the building panting. Although she was probably the only one who could see it, she could see the fire growing inside the house, filling the room and the hallway, scorching the wallpaper. The fire would destroy the headquarters, and every piece of evidence that it contained regarding her investigation. If she was lucky enough, they would think she had died in the fire as well. No one knew her real identity apart from the Handler and her recruiters, and they were all inside.

There was no question there would be nothing left of the headquarters. Apparently, history did repeat itself. All too well, if it was to protect the ones she loved.

[fosermi]

Smile

A lego monkie kid fic about redson rediscovering the true meaning of a smile.

Do enjoy and tell me what you think!

AO3 link:

===

smile. 

Verb, to form one's features into a pleased, kind, or amused expression, typically with the corners of the mouth turned up and the front teeth exposed.

Noun, a pleased, kind, or amused facial expression, typically with the corners of the mouth turned up and the front teeth exposed.

A smile…

Redson knew its meaning for he has smiled on multiple occasions. He had read about smiles, and the supposed joy it brought to those who did the act of smiling and those around them. After the imprisonment of his father, however, that ideology clashed with his reality. 

His smiles no matter what could not bring his mother happiness. He couldn’t bring her happiness.

And so for the next 5 centuries, the true meaning of a smile faded away and dissolved in the crushing truth of reality for the young demon. 

However, ever since a certain meddling noodle delivery boy fell on top of him the day they freed his father, he has often caught himself smiling more and more. 

Every other week, redson would attempt to attain power to give to his father in order to prove his worth in their family. Even though his plans and attempts would continually be thwarted by the monkey king’s successor and his friends. 

But, despite his losses, the fire demon had started to feel a far-off forgotten feeling deep within. An odd, yet comforting feeling. He felt something similar whenever his father would acknowledge him. However, it was still a different feeling when he would combat with his new enemies. 

His facial expressions would unwillingly contort into, what he reasoned with himself, a smirk or a cocky grin. Even after his defeats, he would march up to his room in a fury, only to have the corners of his lips turn upwards as a new plan starts brewing in his genius brain.

He found himself in a pinch, slowly starting to care less and less about victory and care more about getting to see them again.

Lowly observing the noodle boy and his group of "friends", he couldn't help but always see their smiles of victory after every victory. The happiness radiating from them blinding like a sun that descended onto the earth in the dead of night. 

Seeing them so happy… Redson discovered a new emotion. One he didn't understand. One he didn't like.

That night, redson laid awake in bed, dictionary in hand as he scoured through the pages to explain the feeling he had, the feeling he didn't like. Then a word caught his sight. 

A feeling of discontented or resentful longing aroused by someone else's possessions, qualities, or luck.

Envy. 

Redson's whole world came to a grinding halt. Was he really envious? Envious of what? 

Surely he was envious of them for winning all the time… for denying his family's rightful place at the top…

Right…?

When his father was taken over by the White Bone Spirit's powers, redson had no choice but to team up with his rival. A brief moment of thought was spared by the fire demon, believing that maybe… just maybe… this time he too can smile in victory. 

Maybe this time, he too can win. 

Maybe this time, he too can smile.

It was a brief battle against his father, however a successful one. They managed to free him from the possessive powers of the strange bones they dug up. He watched his mother walk up to his father and gave a small smile as she pressed their foreheads together. 

A genuine smile. 

Something he had never been able to make his mother do. And yet, at that moment he too was smiling as a light and soft feeling swept his entire body, washing away all fear and doubt. 

His whole body held nothing but relief at that moment, completely ignoring the fact that he had robbed his father of his position on top of everyone. Yet, at that moment, it didn't matter. That feeling of envy never came. 

Since then, he had seen his mother smile more, glad to have her husband back and her son safe. Since then, she has been less harsh on her son. Since then, redson had been able to focus on himself for once. 

He would often go out on walks or even go to the arcade whenever he could to escape the confinement of his own home. But he couldn't escape the growing envy within himself whenever he saw the noodle boy and dragon girl around the city.

But why? 

They weren't thwarting any plans of his. They weren't bringing down his father from his rightful place. So why? 

 Why was he feeling so envious?

That's when it hit him. They were always together, never alone. Never not smiling. Unlike readson, always locked up in his room, always tinkering. Never smiling. He was lonely.

But maybe, if he could spend some time with his father, he would be less so. Then maybe, he will no longer feel envy. No longer feel alone. 

Storming back home with a grin, redson asked his parents to change careers, to open up a small barbecue shop for them. Maybe then can he spend time with his parents, maybe then they would no longer gain scars from battle. 

To redson surprise, it was his father who verbally agreed first, slowly easing in his mother to the idea. Eventually, yet reluctantly, she too agreed. 

They opened up a small stall by new-year, prepared to serve any willing customer. 

Who knew setting up a stall for the new year would drag redson on to fight alongside his rival while his father was captured. Even though it was a dangerous mission for them to go to heaven and steal a couple of items while spider demons, redson had finally felt needed. He wasn't about to let that go to waste. 

Although the noodle boy and his friends were a bit idiotic or annoying at times, he found himself having fun. 

The most fun he's had in centuries.

He smiled more than what he had smiled in centuries too, something he didn't believe he could do anymore. Yet here he was, enjoying his time working with his arch enemies.

The proud look in his father's eyes didn't go by redson unnoticed when the dragon horse girl teased him for being good. He didn't miss the lowly growl his father had sent her way when she started laughing at redson. 

That day, marked the first day his father had ever called him "son". The day, he truly got his father back. Something about his father acknowledging him as his son again made redson nearly burst out in joy. 

For the next week, Redson's smile never faded, no matter what had happened. Not until he took a day off from their new job to go relax at the arcade for the evening did his smile fade. 

The noodle boy and the dragon horse girl were hanging out and laughing. Smiling. Making everyone around them happy. It was obvious they were having a party after a minute of observing, one he most likely wouldn't be invited in. So he promoted himself to leave. 

Except he couldn't. 

In front of him now stood the green and yellow duo, blocking his exit. They had noticed him. Taking up a defensive pose, redson prepared for a fight, only to be completely stunned by the noodle boy extending his hand out for him with a soft smile. 

"Care to join?" Was all he said. A small offer of friendship. How could they be so trusting? He is a demon after all! 

"It just wouldn't be fair if we celebrated without the one who saved the city!" Chimed in the dragon girl, offering a reason to their actions. 

A reason good enough to make redson drop his defenses. He reasoned that these two could never possibly hold an evil bone in their body. At least not one that would make them actively act out a well executed trap. 

"Fine" redson said with a huff as he straightened out his coat. Causing the goody-goody duo to jump around excitedly. An outburst that enviably led to the dragon girl dragging redson and the noodle boy back into the party. 

 Redson found himself smiling all throughout the night. He found himself, for once, able to have fun. Able to share joy with others through his music. He was bombarded with appreciation by the people in the arcade that night for his actions during the new year. He found that his envy had been completely replaced by joy and a sense of fulfillment. 

Redson was happy, but couldn't bring himself to stay at the party for long. 

He stood outside of the arcade far off into the corner as not to be noticed by those who pass by him. 

A tear fell from his eyes. 

He was crying, he didn't understand why, but he was. 

He slumped down as more and more tears fell from his eyes all the while suppressing sobs, making it difficult for the demon to breathe. 

Soon a comforting hand landed gently on his back, causing the fire demon to look up only to find a familiar yellow sit next to him. 

"I don't know why you're crying, but you should know that you can trust us whenever you need help…" such comforting words from his enemy. Redson didn't understand… he couldn't comprehend. 

"Why…?" Was all he could choke out, managing to catch the surprised look in the demon’s eyes.

The hero let out a small sigh before looking up at the barely visible stars in the sky. "Sometimes, we all need a smile and a comforting hug… everyone deserves it but some unable to find it…" 

The rest of the night was spent in silence, enjoying each other's company.

Deep down… Maybe… Redson really did just need a smile...

[anextraordinarymuse]

How are you feeling about Nathan and Nathan and Elizabeth right now? Do you feel like the show has destroyed him? Just, how are you feeling about all this—what are your thoughts?

Oh anon, I’m so glad you asked. Buckle up! We’re going for a ride.

I would marry Nathan Grant this instant if 1) I wasn’t already married, and 2) he wasn’t a fictional character. 

Nathan is not even remotely close to being destroyed for me. I love and adore him as much right now as I ever have. I absolutely, wholeheartedly disagree with anyone who says that Nathan was in any way responsible for what happened to Jack, to any degree. That’s just ridiculous. By that same line of thinking, then Jack was responsible for Doug’s death in season 3 or 4 (I can’t remember). I don’t remember anyone pointing fingers at Jack for that series of events. And you know what? By the line of thinking that I’ve seen in regards to Nathan and the secret, then Jack would actually have been more responsible for Doug’s death than Nathan was for Jack’s. Jack declined his orders to go to the Northern Territories. He straight up said “sorry, but no” because Elizabeth wanted him to stay, and he wanted to stay with her. Nathan did no such thing. He made a decision to chase bad guys - which was in line with his job, if not his direct orders - and was disciplined for disobeying orders. That led to Jack being asked to lead the training mission. Not Nathan’s refusal of orders. So ... nope. Jack wasn’t responsible for Doug’s death, and Nathan wasn’t responsible for Jack’s death. Also, depending on who you are and what you believe, it could almost be said that Jack should have died in Doug’s place, and because he didn’t that meant he was going to die in Nathan’s place. There is a macabre sort of symmetry to it: Doug dies in Jack’s place, Jack dies in Nathan’s place. That’s full circle. 

Now, I’m not saying that I believe that. Just pointing it out. I believe that Jack died because of an accident. No one is at fault. It just happened, because sometimes bad things happen. And I understand how difficult it would have been for Nathan to tell Elizabeth that, especially as they got to know one another and he started to fall in love with her. Not telling her doesn’t make him evil or a bad person or whatever - it just makes him human. He knew that it would hurt Elizabeth, and you never want to hurt the people you love. 

I’ve seen various other criticisms of Nathan, of course. I’ve seen some comments saying that he’s too aggressive in his pursuit of Elizabeth, and to that I say that I don’t think I’m watching the same show. Nathan has never been aggressive with Elizabeth in any way. I could literally write a book about that argument, but I won’t, because I still have a lot of other points to cover. 

So, no. I don’t think the show ruined Nathan. I think some people are just ready to hate him for any reason, and if that’s how they feel then ... well, I don’t care, actually. The great thing about fandom is that you get to choose how you engage with it, and I’m not interested in those points of view. Other people’s dislike or outright hatred of Nathan does not dim my love of him one whit. 

As far as Nathan and Elizabeth are concerned, I am tired, but I have absolute faith that they will be together by the end of the season. Nathan is Elizabeth’s “next great love” (words used by Erin Krakow); we’ve always been moving toward their end game, and despite how rocky and painful and awkward the journey has become, that end game hasn’t changed. Here’s a (non-exhaustive) list of reasons why I know that:

Quality of storytelling: Nathan and Elizabeth have the highest quality of storylines both separately and together. Their storylines focus on real and important values such as family, forgiveness, growth, loss, etc. I’ve mentioned this before, but pretty much from their first interaction we are shown that Nathan and Elizabeth are a team. They are united. Elizabeth is the first person to welcome Nathan to HV, and she shares a personal story of her first days in the town and how challenging they were. It’s the first thread that connects them. Also, I should point out that the first time Nathan meets Elizabeth he delivers a measure of relief for her in the form of Jack’s pension. We know that Elizabeth makes money from her teaching, and that her family in Hamilton would probably never let her want for money, but still. Receiving Jack’s pension undoubtedly relieved a financial burden for her (as evidenced by her reaction to seeing the amount). Anyway, the themes of team and unity keep going from there. Elizabeth helps Nathan search for Allie; they have to work together to correct Allie’s behavior and reassure her; Elizabeth distracts Amos Dixon while Nathan is infiltrating the saloon to catch him; etc. These themes are not present in Elizabeth’s relationship with Lucas. All of Lucas’s storylines are impersonal, with the exception of the one with his parents in season 8 and the little bit of backstory we got with the Amos Dixon incident. The work and effort that has gone into telling Nathan’s story, and Nathan and Elizabeth’s story, is absent from Lucas’s plotlines both with and without Elizabeth. Another point: whereas Elizabeth’s first interaction with Nathan ties that first thread of connection between them, her first interaction with Lucas starts them off on the wrong foot: Lucas asks her where her husband is and if he’ll be joining her. Elizabeth immediately walks away from him and Rosie and Lee have to tell Lucas about Jack. 

Depth of interactions: At this point, the lack of any real depth between Lucas and Elizabeth is absolutely intentional. I think it always has been, but now there’s just no question. Almost every interaction between Nathan and Elizabeth has depth. They can’t help it - they’re not really surface level people. Helen Bouchard tells Elizabeth this season that she knows that Elizabeth is a person who feels things deeply, and I think we know by now that Nathan is as well. They bring that level of feeling to their interactions. They argue, they flirt, they talk about the hard things. Pain, loss, distrust, obstacles ... we never see that depth between Lucas and Elizabeth. The one hard thing they talk about is the reveal of Helen’s secret, and it’s important to note that in that interaction Elizabeth calls out Lucas’s comment for what it is: cruel. “What would you know about it?” Uncalled for. This is the only time we really see Elizabeth and Lucas argue, and Lucas doesn’t meet Elizabeth’s depth here. She tells him something meaningful - that maybe Helen had to be the first one to reach out, and that love should be fought for - and Lucas responds with a cruel comment and walks off. That was intentional on the writers’ part. When Nathan and Elizabeth argue they get heated, but they do not attack each other. That’s an important distinction. They’re not trying to hurt each other. Now, I’m sure someone will point out that in Nathan and Elizabeth’s most recent argument about Allie, Elizabeth says “now you’re just being hurtful” when Nathan tells Elizabeth she originally wasn’t invited. Guess what? Cruel and hurtful don’t mean the same thing. Cruel means: willfully causing pain or suffering to others, or feeling no concern about it.” Whereas the definition of hurtful is: “causing distress to someone’s feelings.” I would say there’s a huge difference in those two words. Plus, even though it may have hurt Elizabeth to hear it, what Nathan said was true. It was not an insult, or a petulant remark said in anger. In fact, while Nathan is irritated and kinda snarky, I’d say he’s not really even that angry in the scene where Elizabeth confronts him. They bicker, but he doesn’t lose his temper like he did in the cabin scene in season 7. In fact, in all of the times that Nathan and Elizabeth have argued their disagreements have never been mean spirited or intentionally hurtful. 

But it’s not just that. When Nathan loses his temper in the cabin scene, he says “you both could have died!” When Elizabeth confronts him in the Mountie office the next day, she says “please stop shutting me out!” These are not surface level arguments - they’re not arguing about Elizabeth’s inability to decide what she wants for dinner. (Sorry, had to throw in a joke). They’re arguing over deep concerns: bodily harm, and emotional withdrawal. I find it interesting that Nathan displayed concern about Elizabeth’s physical safety and Elizabeth over his emotional withdrawal, considering that at the end of season 7 and now in season 8 we’re seeing an Elizabeth who is terrified of losing Nathan (physical safety) and a Nathan who has had to weather Elizabeth’s emotional withdrawal. Who’s shutting who out now, Elizabeth? I digress. 

Another thing of note: we’ve never actually heard Nathan tell Elizabeth that she’s beautiful, and we’ve never actually heard Lucas tell her anything but she’s beautiful. Interesting contrast. Nathan says, “You matter to me,” “you’re quite the teacher,” “I’m glad the publisher realized how special you are. He’s not the only one,” and of course, “I love/am in love with you.” Even Nathan’s compliments go beyond surface level. Whereas Lucas tells her she’s beautiful, and that he’s so glad to have her in his life. Again, depth vs. surface level. I do remember that in the first episode of season 7, I believe, when Nathan says that he was never engaged with school Lucas butts in and says “that’s probably because you never had a teacher like Elizabeth.” I tend to disregard this compliment though, because it didn’t feel genuine. Lucas butts in to a conversation that Nathan and Elizabeth are having and then compliments her - it feels like a showboat move. In contrast, all of Nathan’s compliments have been sincere and given in private, without anyone else around. 

I was going to make a separate point for this, but I actually think it belongs here: the depth of Nathan’s gift giving/wooing vs. Lucas’s is also very apparent. Nathan gives her personal, humble gifts: an apple, a hand carved wooden sign with a quote from her favorite poet (which she mentioned once, to someone else), a moment of relief when he offers to hold baby Jack at the christening party. Lucas’s gifts are more grandiose, but impersonal: flowers, fancy dates, etc. The two sweetest things Lucas has done for her, in my opinion, were when he gave her the binoculars to take for the kids on their trip to the woods, and the Virginia Wolff trip. Note, I don’t mean the dinner out of town or the picnic on the way there: I mean the fact that Lucas bought tickets to go see a reading of an author that he didn’t particularly like because he thought Elizabeth would like them. Granted, I didn’t like the way he sprung them on her, but it was still a very thoughtful gesture. 

Wardrobe: Costume and set designers will tell you all the time that they make conscious decisions about who wears what, and when. Nathan and Elizabeth are always dressed in complementary colors. They match, or at least blend well; Lucas and Elizabeth are often mismatched or outright clashing. Elizabeth and Nathan generally dress in lighter colors, whereas Lucas dresses in darker colors. Also worth noting is that we have seen several instances of Nathan and baby Jack being dressed alike, and Allie and Elizabeth being dressed in similar/complementary colors. 

Family Imagery: the amount of family imagery that we are presented with in regards to Nathan, Elizabeth, Allie, and baby Jack is impossible to miss. They pick out and decorate a Christmas tree together in a warmly lit home with a combination of Elizabeth’s decorations and Nathan and Allie’s; even though it doesn’t happen, the first time Nathan asks Elizabeth to dinner they go as a family unit; Elizabeth brings over cupcakes for the sleepover and helps Nathan loosen up by flirting with him in the middle of his kitchen, with an apron on; these are all intimate, family oriented scenes. 

Shows of fear/worry/concern: look at Elizabeth’s face any time Nathan is heading into danger, might be in danger, or just generally might be unsafe in any way. She is visibly distressed every time. She’s also distressed every time Nathan gives her the cold shoulder/tries to back off/resorts to any kind of formality. We’re always shown this moment of fear for her, and usually some kind of scene after that shows us the aftermath. For example: after the fight in the cabin, when they’re back in town it looks like Nathan might be about to apologize and Florence interrupts him and he leaves to find Lee; we get the scene of Elizabeth confronting him the following day. After that confrontation, we get Nathan showing up at night and telling her “you matter to me.” Elizabeth asks Lucas to dance and then sees a crestfallen Nathan leaving the saloon; in the next episode (even though it’s the first episode of the following season) we see Elizabeth purposely approach Nathan in the street with a sweet but awkward comment about Allie’s book report on Queen Victoria. We’ve only seen two real moments of danger for Lucas: the Amos Dixon situation, and the oil derrick explosion. In the Amos Dixon incident, Elizabeth is angry with Lucas for endangering her; in the oil derrick explosion, we actually don’t get a scene addressing that other than the one where Elizabeth stops Helen and tells her that she’s sure Lucas is fine. Interesting differences, I’d say. This also ties into the previous point about the emotional depth that exists between Nathan and Elizabeth, but not Elizabeth and Lucas. Other than the hug, of course, which was a huge display of fear and emotion from Elizabeth, I'd also point you to the scene at the end of 8x01 when Elizabeth is waiting on her porch for Nathan to come home. She can hardly breathe when she sees him ride up. Watch the way she breathes - she inhales so deeply that it makes her collarbones stick out sharply, and her expression is intense. The way she says "you made it home" is so tense and shaky!

The pursuer vs the pursued: This is a huge point, and difference. In the Elizabeth and Lucas relationship, Lucas is the pursuer; in the Nathan and Elizabeth relationship, Elizabeth is the pursuer. Lucas inserts himself in conversations that Elizabeth and Nathan are having, he repeatedly asks her to dinner and surprises her with things (like the Virginia Wolff tickets, and sending her manuscript to his mother, etc). At first, Elizabeth seems hesitant about these things: she turns him down once for dinner, hesitates over the tickets, then finally sits down to dinner with him but won't call it a date. To me, the relationship between Lucas and Elizabeth seems to come about mostly because he wears her down. Elizabeth only really goes to Lucas and opens the door for a relationship after Nathan's profession of love. That certainly makes it seem like she's not so much running to Lucas as she is running away from Nathan. In comparison, we have a whole bunch of examples of Elizabeth being the one to pursue some sort of relationship with Nathan. Not necessarily a romantic one (at least purposely) but every time Nathan tries to leave Elizabeth alone and put distance between them, she closes that gap by figuratively running straight at him. Calling him out for shutting her out, finding excuses to talk to him (like Allie's book report), basically telling him that she went to Union City with Lucas because Nathan wouldn't ask her out. Now, in season 8 I would say that we've taken a fairly hard turn and Nathan has now taken the lead as the pursuer and Elizabeth is the pursued ... which is mostly true. I think one of the key takeaways on this point, and up to this point in the show, is that Elizabeth and Nathan can't help but pursue each other. It's a frustrating game of cat and mouse. But, it's true: even though they're on shaky ground and things are complicated, we still see Elizabeth and Nathan running to each other as much as they run away. Nathan does so in obvious ways, but Elizabeth is more subtle. She sends him that note about missing the parent teacher conference and then they have that conversation in her living room; Elizabeth follows Allie as she barges in on the inquiry and then waits outside with her, and they're together when Nathan emerges; Nathan invites her to the adoption ceremony, they share the moment outside the infirmary, Elizabeth stops him to ask about the stolen car outside the mercantile; Elizabeth and Allie upset each other and Elizabeth runs straight to Nathan. No matter how they have tried not to, it's clear at this point that they will always gravitate to one another. In support, in argument, in misunderstanding, in triumph ... they just keep going for one another.

This, I think, has been the point of having Lucas witness all of these interactions between Nathan and Elizabeth. No matter what they might say or the perception they might try to give off, the truth always comes out - and the truth is that they can't stay away from each other. Even when she tries to hide it, Elizabeth's heart is a compass, and we all know that compasses always point one way (and in her case, the N doesn't mean north).

To that point, I think that there has been a lot of double meaning to the things Elizabeth has said this season. The most recent example: in the last episode when Elizabeth says, "I tried to tell you at Allie's parent teacher conference. You are her rock. You are her foundation. If you let her down, her whole world crumbles." Also, to this point, in the scene where they're in Elizabeth's house, she says, "You will always be the measure of the quality she'll look for in a man as she chooses who to marry." I find the wording of both of these statements both interesting and telling. At this point, I think that Nathan isn't just Allie's rock - he's also Elizabeth's. She trusts him, and depends on him, and holds him in high regard. Nathan has unexpectedly filled a hole in Elizabeth's life: he is her main male support now. She has Bill and Lee, of course, but they don't fill the same spot. Bill is like a father figure, and Lee is her best friend's husband. But Nathan - Nathan is only Elizabeth's. It's a very specific spot he fills, and it's as the leading man in her life. They solve problems together, mentor and parent Allie, address the town's needs, etc. Again - they're a unit, and we're meant to see them as such. Elizabeth's behavior didn't change until after she almost lost Nathan (and then he told her he loved her); she doesn't seem shaken or upset until Nathan does something to make her feel that way. Nathan has become her rock, and she's laid a new foundation with him. Her emotional state is directly tied to Nathan (and Allie, as I think we've now seen). No matter how painful or difficult it is, Nathan and Elizabeth are already bonded (and deeply). A fact that will be highlighted in 8x09 when Elizabeth will choose Nathan's hands in that wedding game, despite the fact that she has never held his hands (but has held Lucas's several times now).

So. This turned into a freaking novel, and I could honestly keep going, but I won't. I will just say, once again, that I love Nathan with my whole heart. I may not agree with his every decision, but I don't expect to. I don't agree with a lot of Elizabeth's decisions, but I still love her too. The writers do have some work to do, however, because they took this further than I expected them to and now they need to work their way out of it. But, even in my most frustrated and tired moments - of which there have been several, and will probably be a few more - I have always known all roads lead to Nathan and Elizabeth. We'll be exhausted by the time we cross the finish line, but we'll get there. Don't lose hope.

[keiameli]

“Bouna Serata, Addio”

[Vincenzo Fanfiction of Vincenzo by Kei]

She never demand anything to him. She always understands him, respect him and considered his situation. Even though she wants him to stay by her side, she never said it to him because she knows what his mind wants and where his heart belong. It was never on Korea; it was never on her side. Even if they held a special place in each others’ heart, it was never enough for her to encourage him to stay and it was never enough to make him stay. 

When Vincenzo Cassano left, Hong Cha-young told herself that it was okay. He needs to leave and she already knows that he will soon leave because he doesn’t belong in Korea. An Italian mafia lawyer whose hands were stained with blood, a man who ended the lives of men he considered evil, a man who delivered his preys toward their demise has no place beside the people who were just genuinely good, who were just standing for themselves and fighting for their rights. Vincenzo Cassano was no saint and he will never be. And the place where he belongs is the place where he can freely show his true self, the dark and vicious man who never flinches when he’s shooting his enemies, straight to their heads.

What Hong Cha-young saw was not his full dark side. She just had a glimpse of his true colors but she accepted him without judging him and urging him to change into someone Vincenzo Cassano doesn’t want to.

And he was forever grateful to Hong Cha-young. As he walked through the darkness of life, he found his oasis, his light and his refuge. He feels safe with her embrace, it was like she was defending him from the monster—from the evil who wants to conquer him whole. She was his strength, the sole reason why he decided to fight against Babel. He will always come back to see her and to tell her how much he misses her. And he only got one chance to express his feelings to her every year. 

Every year, Hong Cha-young was always looking forward to the day when Korea celebrates its diplomatic relationship with Italy. It was the day when the birds decided to make a bridge in order for them to meet each other. It’s the day when she will finally see the man she’s longing for. Hong Cha-young doesn’t have any problem when it comes to waiting for him once a year. She knows that he will arrive because that’s what he had told her. She believes in him because he’s Vincenzo Cassano, the man her heart decided to fully trust. The day when they can finally meet was one of the happiest days in her life. It was a short moment that feels like forever because she’s with the man she wants to spend her forever—her lifetime with. Their meeting may not last for a day but it was enough, standing next to each other and drowning themselves with each others’ presence was enough. Looking at each other’s faces and noticing the changes; talking about their lives and sharing matters regarding them that happened in the whole one year they did not meet. 

Hong Cha-young was standing two meters away from the painting “The Lovers” by René Magritte. It was the first painting that grabbed her attention as soon as she entered the gallery. The painting shows an image of a man and a woman that are trying to kiss each other but they are both separated by grey hoods, lips never meet and the cloth was dry and suffocating. They can’t see each other and they can not even kiss. What caught her attention was the hoods that were separating the two lovers. Hong Cha-young depicts it as the two were in love with each other but they were clearly separated because of some circumstances or they love each other but they clearly don't know each other; both of them were hiding their true selves behind the grey hoods. She nodded her head as if she was agreeing to her thoughts. The painting has a lot of meaning behind it and it will depend upon the person who’s looking at it. She decided to move on to the next painting beside it. It was the painting “Liberty Leading the People” by Eugène Delacroix. Hong Cha-young can’t help but to smile when she remembered a certain event 5 years ago; it was the night when the Geumga tenants won over the group of people who were trying to destroy the Geumga Plaza. It was an historic night for them; it shows how courageous and brave they are. She closed her eyes, trying to reminisce about the exact event on that night.

But the image that came to her mind was a man, standing with pride in his expensive Booralro suit. 

‘Buona serata, mademoiselle.’

The italian greeting was whispered through her ears. The deep and soft voice was carved in her mind, it never left her since the day she met him. It’s been five years. Hong Cha-young was always waiting for his arrival. She did not even realize that five years had passed, the only thought in her mind was there’s someone who cares for her that lives on an island and someday, she will be able to live on his side; someday they will live the way they wanted to be.

As she awaits his arrival, she looks around and sees familiar faces she had encountered before. And as usual, it brought back many memories to her and that was the time when everything that happened were wrong and bad but it felt right because they were serving justice on their own; together with her mafia man, Vincenzo Cassano. 

She sighed and looked back at the first painting she had seen; everything went on in a blur and the night just ended. The visitors were keep on looking at her direction probably wondering why she just kept on standing on the exact place. She didn’t mind them but it made her uncomfortable. The stares were nothing what’s worst was the man he was waiting did not arrive like he had promised to her. Vincenzo Cassano did not arrive like what he did 1 year ago.

Hong Cha-young has no problem when it comes to waiting for someone. She’s willing to wait especially if the person promises her that he will come and see her. She’s willing to wait especially if she’s holding onto something; something that reassures her that everything will soon be alright.

She wanted to wait. But the feeling of giving up was gnawing at her slowly. She’s willing to wait but she was slowly getting tired without even noticing it. 

She waited. 

As she walked on the spacious hall wearing her white floral chiffon maxi dress with a dramatic puff sleeves pairing with silver three-inch stiletto heels, she saw familiar people who she encountered ten years ago when she was visiting the gallery. They became her colleagues as they noticed that every year she just kept on coming back and they decided to talk to her. And now, for the last time, she decided to visit the gallery she once used to go to whenever it’s time for the celebration of the diplomatic relationship between Korea and Italy.

She stopped in front of the painting “The Kiss” by Gustav Klimt. The painting shows lovers, wrapped up in each other, enfolded in their everlasting kiss. 

‘They looked in love just by looking at how they shared their kiss and embraced each other,’ she thought. 

“Eomeoni!” A boy, probably five years old, wearing blue long sleeves and black pants paired with black sneakers, ran towards Hong Cha-young. Her thoughts were interrupted when the boy called her. She looked at him as he stopped in front of her. The boy was smiling widely at her and she noticed the gold chocolate bar he was tightly holding. She bent down and reached for his head. She ruffled his hair.

“Look! Someone gave me a gold bar! A gold bar!” he exclaimed. 

“Who gave that to you?” Hong Cha-young asked. 

“A stranger I met in the bathroom!” Hong Cha-young forehead slightly creased. Although the gold bar brought memories of her past, she just thought that she should teach her son not to accept anything from someone he doesn’t know.

“Hm? Where’s your abeoji?” she asked.

“Sorry. We took so long to roam around the gallery.” Hong Cha-young stood up straight as soon as she heard the familiar voice. 

“Abeoji!” The boy raised his hands and as soon as the man arrived in front of them he crouched down and carried the boy. He stood up and grinned at Hong Cha-young. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I told you not to let go of him,” she stated. 

“I apologize, my wife. He’s just slippery—Aw!” Hong Cha-young pinched his shoulder. The boy giggled when his father exclaimed in pain. 

“Let’s get out of here. Let’s eat somewhere, shall we?” Hong Cha-young asked. The man immediately nodded.

“I’m starving. Where do you want to eat, my boy?” he asked the little boy in his arms. “Anywhere?” the boy answered, unsure of what he just said. Hong Cha-young smiled while lovingly looking at her husband and son. She was so lucky to have them. His husband looked at him and he extended his free hand towards her. He winked at her.

“Let’s go?” Hong Cha-young didn’t hesitate and she immediately took his hand. He stole a kiss on her cheek which made Hong Cha-young's eyes widen in surprise.

“Yah!—”

“Come on!” They walked hand in hand beside each other; their smiles were wide and their eyes twinkling with happiness. 

On the far side of the gallery, a man in his forties was standing beside a huge pillar. He was talking someone in the phone while looking at the retreating figures of the people he was tailing earlier. As soon as they entered the gallery, he immediately do his mission, it was to observe the family of three from a distance. 

“How is she?” the man from the other line asked. His voice was deep, a hint of tiredness can be heard from it. 10 years ago, the underground society was put under a chaos. The Famiglias have only two choices; it was to fight or die. Their Famiglia was engaged into a battle where they had to keep their loved one's safe and themselves alive. 

“She’s okay. Her son was already five years old. I actually gave him a gold chocolate bar which he gratefully accepted. She’s.....” a long pause, “happy.”

He had no choice but to abandon the promise he told her. It was to protect her from the danger of the world he lives in. If his enemies knew that he has someone he loves and truly cares, they will surely target her because she was his weakness. And he’s afraid to lose the only person who was keeping him from the darkness; he was afraid to lose his only light. In order to keep her safe, he has to let him go.

It was painful but he was happy he did that, ten years ago.

Because she’s happy now, living the ordinary life he can’t give her. Because no matter how he tries, he can’t leave the life his foster father gave him and he can’t just bring her into it, without destroying her virtue. 

“Grazie, Luca,” he said and ended the call. The night was cold, he could feel the breeze coming from the sea. He held the wine glass and stared at the vast darkness outside his massive window. 

“Buona serata, mademoiselle,” he softly whispered in the air. 

[sxvxrxssnape]

Snolidays/Snapemas: Day 2

Chestnuts & Christmas Cards // pre-PS/the years between. Minerva & Severus friendship aka Minerva McGonagall’s personal mission to make Sev love Christmas part 2. 

Yesterday’s snowfall had turned to ice overnight. It crunched underneath their boots, leaving behind a trail of sunken footfalls as they crossed the stone bridge and moved towards the tall, wrought iron gates that secured the ancient school. 

The wind wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but Severus still took a moment to adjust his hat, pulling it down over his ears to keep his hair from flitting about in his face. Beside him, Minerva had her hands tucked into the pockets of her woolen cloak and together they made their way towards the waiting carriage that would take them into Hogsmeade. 

Hogsmeade was a special little town that sat nestled between crashing ocean waves and giant boulders, an endless expanse of pine trees, and the outline of an antiquated castle perched high above the cliff sides. It was home to a quaint collection of little shops and taverns, and judging by its newly renovated state, a smattering of wizards who seemed to love Christmas just as much as the deputy headmistress standing beside him. 

“December literally just started.” Severus groaned, as he stepped out of the carriage and looked around the main street that stretched out before them. 

Bundles of garland and red ribbon decorated every light post and rows of twinkling lights and colorful baubles hung from all the nearby trees. Even the air smelled festive and Severus’ lips thinned as he made out the scent of warm cinnamon and ginger - out of contempt or poorly hidden delight, he would never confirm.

Minerva chuckled softly beside him as he eyed the snow-covered rooftops with their dripping icicles that couldn’t be intentional - it was the weather’s doing, for Merlin’s sake - but still seemed intentional against the decorated storefronts that it made him think of gingerbread.

“You don’t have to look so put out,” Minerva teased, leading the way further into what he was now seriously debating was even Hogsmeade at all, “If you want, we can start decorating the castle as soon as we return. I’m sure Albus won’t mind.” 

Severus glared at her in return,

“I’ve changed my mind,” he decided, as they passed the stone statue of the town’s founder confirming this to, in fact, be Hogsmeade and not an asinine Christmas village Minerva had secretly tricked him into going to, “I can just owl-order the things I need, from the safety of the castle.”

Regardless, he continued towards the waiting apothecary because he could not - would not - owl order potion ingredients. He couldn’t trust the shopkeeper (or the blasted school owls for that matter) to fully understand why it was so important for his bicorn horns to be the exact shade of pale yellow he needed or the fragility of bursting mushrooms. 

And contrary to his current attitude, Severus Snape didn’t hate Christmas. He could appreciate a finely decorated tree and he found himself looking forward, and dare he say, a little excited about the upcoming staff holiday party. He wasn’t the bitter, old man inside that Minerva seemed to think he was, all bah-humbug and scowls when it came to anything remotely festive, he just didn’t understand the point of overdoing it and turning the whole town into a fragrant - wonderful smelling - gingerbread village two days into December. 

For Merlin’s sake, he was only twenty-five. That wasn’t enough time for him to turn resentful of the holidays, even if almost every single year had been...less than stellar, by all accounts. It wasn’t like he had never tried to have a good Christmas either, but after so many spectacularly failed attempts, he had decided he was better off not celebrating it at all. 

In fact, he had been quite content the last four Christmases working at Hogwarts and only acknowledging the aforementioned holiday party and maybe the changes to the menu, because yeah, he might feel a little indifferent towards the holiday but he also wasn’t a heathen who didn’t gladly indulge in rum-spiked eggnog and fresh baked gingersnaps. 

Severus shook his head, trying to dislodge the sudden influx of thoughts. His inner dialogue was beginning to sound a little bitter, even to himself.

“Coffee?” he asked loudly, speaking over the first syllable of whatever Minerva had been about to say, no doubt inferring something too close to accurate about his innermost thoughts from the look on her face, and stopping in front of the smiling wizard standing behind a market stall. 

“Afternoon,” the portly man tipped his head at the two, gesturing towards a charmed menu that was currently rewriting itself with the daily special. “What can I get you two?”

They ordered the special at Minerva’s insistence, and handed over a pair of sickles each before continuing on their quest. The coffee was strong and hot, tasting of dark chocolate and peppermint and Severus grimaced at the realization that she had inadvertently (advertently?) found another thing for him to like about Christmas. 

Minerva one, Severus zero. 

He shook his head again; he wasn’t trying to hate Christmas. He didn’t hate Christmas! He was just stubborn to a fault and after Min’s declaration that she would make this year the best yet, a small part of his mind was determined to rebel against it. 

Their time inside the apothecary was quick. The shopkeeper was used to Severus’ particularities and kept to herself as he sifted through bins of precariously piled ingredients and filled his basket with perfectly selected bicorn, jobberknoll feathers, and no less than thirteen jars of things he definitely hadn’t come here for. 

After he paid - and thank Merlin he had secured a position that provided room and board - Minerva led them into the paper and quill shop next door. She had a Hogwarts-sized order of parchment and spare quills to put in, so Severus went to browse the new display that had been erected in front of the store window. Red fabric was spread over the round table laden with gaudy, ribbon-trimmed quills and pots of glitter-infused calligraphy ink. He reached for one of the plastic-wrapped bundles stacked in the center, adorned with all sorts of festive symbolism and sighed as he realized what they were. 

“You should purchase some,” Minerva suggested, coming up behind him and making him jump. He hated when people snuck up behind him. It had once meant certain death and while the threat of an evil, megalomaniacal wizard behind his shoulder was no longer tangible, the sharp tendrils of fear that spiked into his chest had yet to go away. 

He forced himself to relax. 

“Christmas is all about spreading cheer, you know.” Minerva continued, thankfully ignoring the way his breath had seized, but clearly not unaware of it given the way she took a step back and appraised him carefully. “By making others happy, you make yourself happy. Perhaps you’ll benefit from it.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying that all my traumatic childhood Christmases can be attributed to the fact that I’ve never sent out Christmas cards?” he asked dryly. 

“Yes.” Minerva deadpanned. 

He blinked, taken aback by her frankness before he noticed the glint in her eye that indicated she was mostly joking. He looked down at the packages of cards and selected one with a more wintery scene - painted snowflakes and white-dusted evergreens over the eclectic mix of colorful baubles - with a look of feigned resignation, “I guess I’m sending Christmas cards this year.”

“Excellent.” 

They left the stationary store after that and headed for the Three Broomsticks. It was a new part of their routine that Severus had found himself looking forward to - Hogsmeade trips used to be rather anxiety-inducing, lonely and quite dull affairs without anyone to quip with, but now they promised good company and a quiet meal away from the bustle of students. Part of it was due to the genuine friendship they were forming, but another part of it was self-serving - for both of them. 

They were both aware of it, they just elected not to mention their unique combination of post-war trauma and newly created grief that kept them confined to the safety of the castle and feeling more than a little discombobulated in the small town just outside of it. 

The Three Broomsticks was nestled in the midpoint of Hogsmeade, a cozy-looking tavern made from polished wood and frosted windows, that boasted a warm bed and a strong drink to any desiring witch or wizard. The inside was just as quaint and rustic looking, but now it displayed a cascade of twinkling lights and a modestly decorated tree next to the wiped down bar. 

“Afternoon, Rosmerta!” Minerva called out to the barmaid and landlady who was topping off a stein of butterbeer with a healthy splash of firewhiskey for a waiting gentleman. They took their seats at a small table in the corner that Severus had long since dubbed their table and shrugged out of their cloaks.

“Afternoon, you two.” Madam Rosmerta greeted them as she approached them. Her strawberry blonde curls were gathered at the top of her head in a loose bun pinned in place by her wand and Severus internalized a scowl at that. He had seen a few witches - and wizards - use their wand for a quick updo, but he had yet to figure out how it was done and he absolutely refused to ask for help. She was carrying two ceramic mugs filled to the brim with a deep burgundy drink.

“Mulled wine,” she announced, setting them down and Severus noted the orange slice and cinnamon stick steeping in the red wine. “Made it last night.” 

“I really do believe the drinks are the best part of the holiday season.” Severus mumbled, picking up the warm cup and taking a long sip. 

“Come now, they can’t be the best part.” Rosmerta scolded, summoning a menu from the bar and setting it down on the table. “There’s so much more to Christmas than just good wine!”

“Nothing worthwhile.” Severus said simply, picking up the menu and skimming it. He always ordered the same thing, found comfort in stability, but he also couldn’t resist holiday menus when the time arrived. 

Minerva looked apologetic as she ushered the barmaid away after a quick scan of the menu and turned to glare at the now scowling potions professor. “Severus!”

“So, do you have a list you’re working from?” Severus asked mildly, picking up his wine and focusing intently on the red-tinted pulp of the orange floating in his drink. “Or are you simply making things up on the spot?”

“Pardon?”

“Your mission to make this year the best Christmas ever.” he specified. “Are you working from a list? Is there a schedule we’re following and can I be made privy to it, so I can plan my potion brewing around it?” He picked up the package of cards. “Or are you just forcing me to take part in things as they come up?”

Minerva eyed him carefully, picking up her own cup. “A little bit of both.”

“Do I get to hear what you do have planned?”

“Some of the classic activities I suppose - decorating the tree, going to look at the lights, maybe visiting Christmastown, baking cookies, go caroling -”

“Caroling?!”

“- maybe decorate a gingerbread house.”

Madam Rosmerta returned before Severus could say anything else, guiding bowls of butternut squash soup and a plate of cheese toasties onto the table with her wand. “There you go, dears.” she smiled, setting down a smaller plate piled with iced gingersnaps. “These are on the house - first bake of the holiday season. Should help get those spirits up.” She sent Severus a pointed look that he deftly ignored and Minerva glared at him again.

“If you’re going to glower at me every time we go out this month, I might just stop going out with you.” he bristled, picking up a toastie and dipping the corner into his soup. 

“Maybe you should stop being so bitter then.” Minerva returned.

“What, because it’s Christmas?” he asked, pausing to take a bite. “Oh, such a joyous time of year! Look how absolutely delighted I am to share a room with wine-drunk wizards,” he gestured a hand towards the bar, where a pair of cherry-faced dwellers were singing the words to A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love, “and a goddamn tree!”

“Severus!” Minerva admonished again and this time, Severus hunched his shoulders at the tone. He had gone too far, he could tell from the way her face had smoothed out entirely, giving her a look of cold indifference. 

“I’m sorry.” he muttered, swirling his spoon through his soup. 

Minerva didn’t say anything and they ate their food in awkward silence. At one point, a pitcher floated over to their table and refilled their mugs before making its way back to the bar. When they were done, Severus eyed the gingersnaps and wondered if it would be considered poor etiquette to reach over and help himself. The mood at the table didn’t feel particularly deserving of cookies. 

Then again, he had once attended dinners at the Malfoy’s with The Dark Lord sitting at the forefront and the ambience of those days didn’t stop anyone from helping themselves to an extra piece of focaccia bread. He winced; it felt wrong to compare past - genuinely traumatic - dinner events to the silence before him. Minerva wasn’t an enemy, he was simply a bastard. 

“I don’t hate Christmas,” he finally broke the silence. “I just find myself wondering over the point when every Christmas I’ve tried to celebrate properly has ended in disaster. I’m perfectly content with not bothering over it anymore. The lights are pretty and the food is good, and I look forward to watching Rolanda drink everyone under the table later this month, but I’ve stopped putting merit in the holidays. It’s less disappointing that way.”

Minerva pushed the plate of cookies towards him, like some sort of reward for  opening up. Which, he supposed, it sort of was. She picked one up and took a bite and only then did he grab one too.

“I don’t get why you’re so determined to fix that.” he added, shrugging. 

He bit into the cookie, savouring the meld of flavors - ginger, molasses, warm vanilla. He couldn’t imagine a more perfect gingersnap and he found himself raising the cookie in a gesture of appreciation as he made eye contact with Rosmerta. 

“Elphinstone loved Christmas.” she said simply, taking another bite of her cookie and shrugging as if she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell of emotional manipulation by invoking the name of her dead husband over a plate of cookies on what had started as a pleasant Monday afternoon of running errands after class. 

“I-” Severus began, but then stopped. 

“We weren’t married for long, I know, but I knew him for 23 years.” she continued, as if he hadn’t spoken. Her eyes seemed a little faraway now. “We would always make the most of his vacation days - see the lights, visit the Christmas market, decorate the tree, roast chestnuts and drink hot cocoa. He loved carolling, had a good voice for it.” 

Severus looked down at his cookie, scraping at the white icing with his thumbnail and effectively crumbling away the hand piped snowflake. 

“I’m not making you celebrate Christmas with me because I’m lonely.” she clarified, eyeing him sternly. “If you don’t want to do anything else on this list, I won’t make you. I just don’t want you going through life thinking it’s all bad and that good things can’t happen to you.”

“I don’t -” 

“Yes, you do.” Minerva scolded. “Don’t think I don’t see you wallowing every time you catch sight of yet another reminder that this is supposed to be the happiest time of the year. You don’t have to be the cheeriest person to ever walk the earth, for Merlin’s sake, Severus, but you’re letting bitterness take a hold of you and I won’t stand for it.” 

Severus tried to scowl back, but Minerva could see right through him. 

“Do you know why I accompany you to Hogsmeade?” she asked and Severus grimaced. They weren’t supposed to talk about it; this was one of those stones better left unturned things. 

“Don’t say it please.” he whispered, feeling dread curling in his stomach. He hated to think himself as weak and his inability to enter Hogsmeade alone - any bustling wizard town, at that - was only utter proof that he was. 

“Your paranoia is valid.” Minerva said quietly, saying as little as possible and yet too much at the same time. “Don’t be ashamed of having trauma, but don’t let it turn you into a bitter, shriveled up, old bastard either.”

“Are we still talking about Christmas?” he asked ruefully. 

“You know we aren’t.”

Their empty plates and half-filled mugs suddenly got up and floated away only to return as a pair of traveling paper cups topped with more wine and a splash of something stronger. They nodded their thanks at Rosmerta and shrugged back into their cloaks. They kept a tab at the Three Broomsticks, so paying wasn’t a concern as they exited the building and headed towards the castle in silent agreement to skip the carriage ride. 

“So, roasted chestnuts?” Severus brought up, as they crunched over the dirty ice that coated the path back home. “Like, in the song? That’s a thing?” 

Minerva nodded. 

“Can we do that, then?” he asked casually, trying to make amends. “I noticed the apothecary had a basket full of them. Perhaps we could return and pick some up.”

“Already taken care of.” Minerva replied, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small burlap sack bursting with its lumpy contents. “You were too busy holding jars of lacewing flies to the light you never even noticed.”

“Roasted chestnuts then.” Severus nodded, ignoring the jab towards his particularness. “And uh, thank you for accompanying me to Hogsmeade,” he added, trying to sound indifferent to it, like it wasn’t such a difficult thing to admit aloud. “I know it's hard for you too.” 

The witch smiled softly, as if being reminded of her - what, only three months now? - deceased husband and her old life living in the small town was a pleasant memory. And perhaps for her, it was. Perhaps he was letting grief turn him bitter. What did the deaths of his only friends and both his parents have to do with Christmas? Years had passed since both and yet the newly-created widow walking besides him was coping far better than he could ever hope to. 

“I think we should talk about Christmas present shopping.” 

“I was just going to -”

“And don’t say you were going to owl-order them.” Minerva interrupted, narrowing her eyes at him. “There’s nothing personal about circling a few things in a catalogue.”

“What do you propose then?”

“We’ll go gift shopping together. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Minerva confirmed, taking a sip of her drink. “It’s too early in the month for most people, so Diagon Alley won’t be crowded at all, let alone on a Tuesday. Shouldn’t make you too uncomfortable, yes?”

Severus offered a smile at the unexpected accommodation and nodded. He cradled his paper cup of mulled wine close to his chest, feeling a warmth that came from more than just the hot drink. 

--

a/n: oops maybe got carried away with this one? it would mean the world to me if you told me what you think of this bc im v proud of it. 

[thetypedwriter]

Wilder Girls Book Review by Rory Power

Wilder Girls Book Review by Rory Power

I didn’t know this until the end of the book, but apparently Wilder Girls is supposed to be a female version or retelling of Lord of the Flies. 

Now I’ve read the Lord of the Flies probably three times now and there was nothing other than the survival element on an island that makes me think the two novels are even related. 

Wilder Girls by Rory Power is about a group of girls stuck on an island after their boarding school, Raxter Academy, befalls a horrific evolution known as the Tox. 

After killing most of the adults on the island, the Tox continues to contaminate the girls, the wildlife, and the entirety of the environment on the island, making living creatures go feral, violent, and rotting-especially the girls. 

The book adopts an almost in medias res approach-or, known as in the middle of things -where we are not shown any of this happening. 

Instead it has been years since the Tox first took its toll, the survivors are diminishing day by day, the girls remaining are starving, infected by the Tox in some terribly grotesque way, and desperate for a cure. 

I genuinely think I would have liked this novel better if it had taken a Lord of the Flies approach and showed us from the beginning how the Tox descended, the madness and chaos it caused, and then the destructive aftermath that followed. 

But no, instead we are told all of this trauma and are expected to feel bad and sympathetic towards these angry characters whom we haven’t bonded with or seen experience any of these atrocities firsthand, but I’ll get more into that later. 

After taking way too long to introduce you to the island, the Tox disease, and how the girls operate on it, the plot slowly starts to trudge along when arguably the main character, Hetty, is chosen as a Boat Girl in lieu of her best friend and crush, Reese. 

The position of Boat Girl now awards Hetty the opportunity to leave the safety net of the school and its forbidden gates and travel with the other Boat Girls and one of the only adults on the island named Welch in order to receive supplies from the Navy that sends food periodically to the island. 

After her first trip however, Hetty learns that not all is what it seems on the island and that more than one person has secrets they’re keeping.

 Dark and deadly secrets. 

What unfolds is a bewildering tale of Hetty’s best friend Byatt being taken in by the Tox and stolen away, a rescue mission undertaken by Hetty and Reese in order to get her back, the unraveling of the island, snippets of Byatt’s POV as she’s being experimented on in order to find the cure, and a anticlimactic ending that left me bereft of any kind of satisfaction or contentment. 

This book was...trying too hard to be something that nobody asked for. 

A female retelling or re-imagining of Lord of the Flies is an interesting concept and I would be extremely curious to see the social and emotional differences it would have made having an entire female cast versus an entire male cast, but that is not what this book is. 

Other than being on an island and trying to survive, almost every element of the book is different. Lord of the Flies deals with concepts like the loss of innocence, nature versus civilization, and the inherent evil budding within each human being when driven to the extreme. 

You could argue that Wilder Girls has loss of innocence maybe, but the themes stop there. First off, there are adults in this novel and the girls cater to them accordingly. I never once forgot that Hetty, Byatt and Reese were teenagers. They read like teenagers. They act like teenagers. 

A third of the way through Lord of the Flies and you forget entirely that most of the characters are under aged 12 versus the sixteen and seventeen years old of Wilder Girls. 

The survival elements differ as well. In Lord of the Flies they have to learn to cooperate and survive on the island by hunting, gathering, and creating a social hierarchy. 

In Wilder Girls, the hierarchy is already in place with the headmistress of the school and they are given supplies (most of which is destroyed or dumped out by the way). 

I couldn’t actually believe that the book was telling me that these girls survive off a piece of jerky and the battery acid flavor of old soup and still living? And walking? And going to shooting practice?

The actual conditions these girls lived in was preposterous more than it was sad and I spent half the book with my head cocked trying to reason if people could even survive under such circumstances (I don’t think so, not for this long of a time). 

The comparisons just don’t cut it for me. 

To me, this book came across way too much as Rory Power trying to be symbolic, deep, and riveting and instead I was confused, bored, and unsympathetic. 

I cried at the end of Lord of the Flies. 

At the end of Wilder Girls, I flipped the page and was astounded to find that the book had ended. It didn’t even read like an ending. I thought it was just another chapter. 

It was so abortive and feckless that I genuinely thought pages were missing only to discover the acknowledgments part of the book came next, followed by a deleted chapter I didn’t give a crap about, and then discussion questions. 

Now, I don’t know who actually decides if a book gets discussion questions, it could be the publisher, the editor, the author, I have no idea. But I found the idea of giving this book discussion questions before it earned its merit was so pretentious it made me dislike it even more. 

This whole book just missed the mark for me. 

Power does have some good writing, but she tries too hard in my very subjective opinion. A lot of the writing was wordy and theatrical and I would get bored with all the waxing and waning of the characters and descriptions. 

The experimental writing bits with Byatt were downright miserable for me. I ended up skimming most of them. They were half-worded, half-formed, barely coherent thoughts and phrases and I understand that that was the point, but instead of intriguing or symbolic I found it irritating and a waste of time. 

I know I’ve been incredibly harsh on this book review and I’m sure there are many of you that would disagree with me seeing as this book was a New York Times Bestseller, but there was nothing in this book that landed for me personally. 

The characters were...semi-interesting but I felt like they didn’t get the development or proper exploration I needed to actually like them because the setting and the situations were so dire and ridiculous that it constantly robbed them of any kind of empathetic or human moment. 

I do really enjoy the idea of having an almost entire female centric novel but there are other books out there that accomplish that and a female/female romance much better in my opinion (Girls of Paper and Fire for instance). 

In the end, it’s safe to say that I didn’t enjoy this novel very much. I would have liked to see these characters before the Tox, to see their downfall, their pandemonium, their change and growth and regression as characters due to their world ending as they knew it. 

Then, when the Tox does come and the world goes upside down, the feelings and relationships of the characters would have much more meaning than being told what had happened and expected to care like I was and couldn’t bring myself to, even at the end. 

Recommendation: Read Lord of the Flies instead. 

Score: 4/10

[nightwingmyboi]

I have a massive amount of questions and hopefully you can answer them all. I wont ask all at once but first question. Dick and Tarantula. I know kinda what happens but like... All the titans took her side? Who were the titans and how did they react?

Alright, always happy to help out. Feel free to fire away! To start...I believe you’re thinking about Mirage, not Tarantula. 

Everything with Tarantula occurred in Bludhaven when Dick wasn’t currently working with the Titans. Dick hasn’t ever talked about what happened with Tarantula to anyone, so it’s likely that the Titans have no idea that anything ever happened...the only people who would have an inkling of what went down would probably be Bruce (who after the fact yelled at Dick to stop being suicidal and never looked into the matter further) and Barbara (who broke up with Dick...after seeing Tarantula force herself on him and knee him in the groin...okay). Yeah that’s a whole other issue :/ 

But I’ll explain the situation with Mirage instead. To set the scene: Dick was on the “New Titans” team, which included: Starfire, Beastboy/Changeling, Red Star, Donna Troy, and Pantha. Mirage came from an evil alternate future timeline, and in that timeline she was romantically involved with a version of Dick Grayson, later known as “Deathwing.” Because of this, she is obsessed with Dick and is convinced that they belong together. She’s come back with the rest of the “Team Titans” to the past to kill Donna Troy in order to stop her son from ruling over the world as a dictator. For some reason, she accomplishes this plan...by kidnapping Starfire, replacing her, and tricking Dick into having sex. Yeah, the plot is convoluted as hell. No time to unpack all that! 

Deathstroke (1991) #14

The team discovers that there is an imposter when Kory manages to break free of her imprisonment and escape. Dick realizes that he was manipulated into having sex with a stranger. Instead of Kory and Dick being able to talk about it alone, Pantha spills the beans in front of the whole team (sans Donna) and fuels the fire with several horrible, crude comments. 

The New Titans (1988) #90

“Details! From ten to one--how did she score compared to this one?”

Though Mirage had them all fooled, Pantha says that, seeing as Dick slept with her, he definitely should have been able to realize that she was phony. No one on the team comes to Dick’s defense or tries to shift the blame from Dick’s shoulders. Kory’s a bit pissed as well. She’s had a pretty bad couple of days. She wants an explanation from Dick, but Pantha can’t freaking shut up for five seconds so that he can give her one. 

Also, note the comments about how Dick’s hair has changed? And about “Starfire’s” new costume? I’m going to quickly side track to explain just how terrible Mirage is. 

The New Titans #88

So, while she was disguised as Kory, Mirage pushed Dick into changing his costume and cutting his hair into a mullet. Dick didn’t want to, especially because his discowing costume had huge sentimental value seeing as he’d modeled the look after his dead parent’s circus outfits, but “Kory” kept pestering him. He trusted his girlfriend, so Dick eventually agreed to follow what he thought was her lead. 

I can’t get over how horrible that is...that Dick’s rapist tried to own Dick’s body to the extent that manipulating him into having sex wasn’t enough, that she abused his trust to change his appearance to suit her needs too, specifically altering him in ways he wasn’t comfortable with. It’s disgusting, I don’t know why it’s so often glossed over, and it really gives a whole new reason to hate “Mulletwing.” And Nightwing’s not the only one whose bodily autonomy is completely thrown out the window.

The New Titans #93

When Mirage was disguised as Kory, she went around and did a bunch of porno, nude photoshoots. I don’t think I have to explain how awful it is that Kory’s appearance was used like this without her consent, especially in such a public way (people were literally stopping her in the streets to talk about it and she was invited onto a news show). Kory is rightfully pissed. Mirage also changes Starfire’s costume as well, to have big cut-outs on the sides. 

Mirage is absolutely horrible. Cannot say that enough.  

Back on the plot: Dick and Kory still have a lot to talk out, but they are on a mission to save Donna, so both of them put their feelings aside for now to help their friend. Later, while Starfire is busy chasing Donna in space, Nightwing runs into Mirage, and she reveals that she was the imposter. 

Team Titans #2

DICK YOU SLUT! So tell me, who was better? Huh? Huh? Huh? 

Mirage laughs about raping Nightwing with zero remorse. Pantha calls Dick a slut and once again asks who is better. Also like last time, the rest of the team (sans Donna) is standing right there...and doesn’t care or help him out at all. 

Dick is forced to put his feelings aside once again to deal with the threat to Earth. This means working with Mirage to the point where she is just...part of the team for some reason? My reaction is pretty in line with Kory’s here: 

Despite Kory’s protest, Dick focuses on the mission, and says that they need the manpower and the knowledge of the future that the Team Titans (including Mirage) have in order to defeat Donna and her son (long story, just ignore the plot honestly). But really, they need Mirage...so that she can cause unnecessary, contrived drama between Dick and Kory. 

I’m just going to say it: Kory and Dick are both pretty wildly out of character. Putting aside how stupid and cliché this plot is in the first place, Dick lets Mirage get away with way too much crap, when he’s always been very up front about dealing with bullshit in the past. One of the absolute worst things about having Mirage stick around (and at one point literally go on vacation with the Titans) is how she just keeps acting like her and Dick are together. It’s gross and Dick needed and usually would have put his freaking foot down about it. They also have Kory flipping from acknowledging that Mirage tricked Dick and is at fault for what happened: 

Team Titans #2

The New Titans (1988) #90

To having her think that Dick genuinely...loved Mirage and would rather be with her? And blaming Dick for being tricked? Even though Dick and Kory are both victims here? 

The New Titans (1988) #90

The New Titans (1988) #97

Starfire has an incredibly high EQ. She and Dick have always been very communicative. To see her completely unwilling to hear him out (and blame him for being raped) is shocking. She acts like an immature teenager, changing her mind all the time and then storming off to go party with random guys in clubs for the next couple days. She has zero of her previously demonstrated emotional maturity and trust. Meanwhile, just as Dick loses his girlfriend, he also loses his apartment, and, to top it all off, Roy swings by to tell Dick that the government is going to shut down the Titans because of all the property damage that happened in their last fight. Nightwing literally can never catch a break. 

The New Titans (1988) #99

Eventually, the two do make up...and Dick immediately proposes to Kory out of nowhere. She accepts, despite being pissed moments before. They have a wedding the next issue, but it is interrupted by villains from the alternate timeline, including an evil Raven and Deathwing. Afterwards, Dick and Kory’s relationship is never quite the same. 

Seeing Dick and Starfire’s relationship sour, when it was built up over so many years of comics (and with neither of them truly being at fault for the split), is freaking depressing. And Mirage never does get punished really...I’m pretty sure she’s even part of the honor guard that escorts Superman’s body to his tomb when he dies, which is dumb as hell. But that’s how it all went down. 

Just to clarify, since you specifically asked how the team reacted, I kept saying “(sans Donna)” because while most of this was going on Donna was a) giving birth or b) going crazy with power. Later, Donna is shown to know about what happened with Mirage, but she doesn’t really give it much thought. She does comment that Dick is acting strangely and she’s concerned about him, but she also doesn’t seem to connect the obvious dots that Dick is acting off...because he’s still shaken about being raped and tricked. Roy also appears later on to lead the Titans. Mirage is a member of that group, and Roy isn’t really shown to have any strong feelings about it. 

Honestly, I wouldn’t say that the Titans “took Mirage’s side” as you describe. Pretty sure none of them liked Mirage. But, they didn’t stand up for Dick, certainly. There was a lot of victim blaming. Dick’s rape wasn’t given the narrative weight that it deserved, probably due to the time period the comic was made. His teammates mostly didn’t care enough to take sides, used him being raped as a joke, or blamed him for being tricked. 

The whole story arc is convoluted, the characterizations are terrible, and overall it just sucks that this was written. 

[resbangmod]

Resbang 2020 Promo, the Fifth

The Magic of Balance

presented by author: jgartist 916 [AO3]

and artist: @sami-guinea-arts​

Pairings: Death the Kid x OC

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: strong language, violence, explicit gore, character death, fear, emotional abuse, partial/suggested nudity, mental illness

Summary:

Yin and Yang. Order and Chaos. Good and Evil. Opposites living in harmony. Perfect symmetry. It sounds so easy. So why then, does balance skew so drastically when the heart gets in the way? The lines that separate black and white blur behind barriers. Secrets that are meant to keep us safe actually keep us from those we love. Yin and Yang. Order and Love. Shinigami and Witch. Will these two hearts find balance or death?

Please enjoy the story preview below the cut!

“I’m sorry. I was just saying hi. I didn’t mean to scare him. I didn’t even think I could be so scary!” Her fingers pushed into her piercings through the fabric of her dress. She knew that kind of fear, felt that kind of fear, and memory of it clawed at her insides.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Crona has always been shy and nervous. Especially around new people.” He gave Eve another look over, golden eyes taking in every detail of her. Perfectly symmetrical. “That is one excellent costume. I almost believed you were the real thing myself.”

“Really?” a short nervous laughter caught in her throat. She rubbed her neck. “Thanks. I’ve- er- had it for a while.” Stupid. Why did I add that? Quickly trying to find something to change the topic she deflected to his costume. He wore black boot-cut slacks that allowed the spurs on his boots to show. An expertly tailored, crisp, white linen shirt bare sleeve garters with small skulls in the center. His thumbs were hooked into his belt where two empty leather holsters hung at his hips. “You’re quite the convincing … old west bandit?”

“Sheriff, actually.” He corrected with a smile, tipping the brim of his black hat to her.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She looked again at the left breast of his pinstripe vest. “Where’s your badge?”

He seemed to grimace and Eve briefly wondered if she said something wrong before he spoke. “I couldn’t make it symmetrical.” The fight to make it rest perfectly in the center of his chest had taken up a majority of his day before the party. Nothing he tried worked. The buttons on his shirt made the badge tilt off center. The metal was too heavy to rest at his collar like his skull brooch. The fabric of his vest was too thick to let the pin of the badge close properly. He very nearly marched out to get a second badge. He’d wear both to preserve his symmetry, one on his left breast, the other on his right. He even made his best effort to explain this to Patty and Liz. They didn’t find his argument compelling. Liz even dragged him downstairs to give his opening speech to his guests. He gave it promptly at 8PM, and he had timed it to be precisely eight minutes long; thanking everyone for coming, wishing they had a wonderful time, and telling them all where the kitchen and bathrooms were. It would have been perfect if BlackStar hadn't interrupted him. He should have expected BlackStar to do that. Should have planned for that inevitability but didn’t because of the badge.

“Do you still have it?” Eve asked blissfully unaware of the slowly building turmoil within Kid’s head.

He surrendered the badge to her. Of course he still had it. Nothing was going right, and nothing would until he found some way to make it right. He had been distracted tending to his guests, welcoming each personally and thanking them for coming, since his speech had been ruined. Now his mind returned to the cursed pin that taunted him. He had been bested; bested by a small, six pointed piece of metal. Worthless! Garbage! I should be kicked to the curb and left to be collected on garbage day. Kid’s mind spiraled. He was so caught up with how pathetically inferior he was, he didn’t notice Eve puck the hat off him. His hand instinctively reached up and began scratching at his head. The left side of his head where three white lines forever stood as a stain against his symmetry. Asymmetrical reaper scum! No- I didn’t deserve to be called a reaper. I didn’t deserve to inherit my father’s great legacy; continue his mission to preserve peace and maintain balance. How can I when I can’t even maintain my own balance?

“There!” Eve toned, presenting the hat back to Kid. The star rested perfectly in the center of the hat. She had pinned it to the band at the base, which was thin enough to accept the needle. The sturdy brim of the hat keeping the metal propped upwards. She offered it back to him, “Now it’s symmetrical.”

Now it was perfect. He thought, his mind calming. It was so simple. He thought with a smile. It wasn’t the polite host smile he wore, but a genuine smile. One he was now able to relax into. One that mirrored the charming curve that smoothed on Eve’s features as well. The answer he was searching for was staring him in the face.

[masseffecthoe]

Forbidden starfruit

Wanted to write a little one shot, plotless porn... so here’s part 1/5 :)) Some plot wiggled itself in, oops. I just wanted the reader not to be a goody two shoes, couldn’t find any fanfics, so I wrote one. Classic story.  Y/N is not evil, but definitely on the morally grey, leaning dark side. Seduction to the grey side if you will.

Spam me any ‘seduction to the dark side’ stories with OC/reader tho, Poe, Kylo, anyone. I crave MORE!

Summary: Poe meets a stranger in a bar. They bang.

Warning: uum the no pants dance. sucking the oyster.

EDIT: AHAHAHA OMG the paragraphs didn’t paste in order!!! FFS... fixed it now >.<

Probably ooc, probably some wrong tech/lore. Wrote for fun.

I like mood boards.

The bar was packed, the music loud and energizing. People were either chatting on the margins, tables full of drinks, or enjoying themselves on the dance floor. Poe checked the time again, remembering to keep his expression relaxed. The informant was almost four hours late, something must have went wrong. Or he'd changed his mind, or perhaps he never existed. It was not everyday that they received intel about the First Order from a supposed deserter - the possibilities were endless and the factors unprecedented.

Everyone thought it might be a trap, but the chances for it were dwindling by the minute. Surely if this was some kind of ploy something would have already happened by then. He took another short sip of his drink - his second cup of ardees already - trying to stall for as long as possible. His eyes wandered over the crowd again, a small smile forming on Poe's lips. It was nice to see them having fun, aliens and humans alike, no worries of the oppressions of the First Order. Or the constant pressure for duty in the Resistance. He felt like he could be a part of that, in a simple pair of trousers and a white T-shirt he could pass as one of the party goers and pretend, for just a selfish moment, that he was carefree.

A flash of red caught his attention and he turned his head, dismissing the previous heavy thoughts. The source of the vibrant color was enticing, the silky fabric of her crimson dress hugging all the right curves as the woman made her way to the opposite side of the bar. Skin glistened in the brighter lights from behind the bar. Two drinks were placed before her and he noticed she was accompanied by another woman, the pair clinking the glasses and gingerly sipping on the neon colored liquid.

Her friend whispered something in her ear and she turned towards him, piercing eyes meeting his for a split second, landing straight on him as if guided by some unknown force. It lasted but a moment, the two women giggling between them the next.

"Something caught your eye, Black Leader?" Poe let out a small sigh and shook his head ever so lightly. He was not supposed to answer and in fact, they were not supposed to use the channel at all, except for an emergency if the whole operation had turned out to be a trap. Chatting about a stranger in a bar did not sound like an emergency. Still, a silly smile played on his lips. How long had it been since he'd done something so... mundane, like going out drinking and meeting a woman who was not also his colleague in the resistance. "Heads up, she's coming your way."

Poe panicked for a moment. He was on a mission! Even if the chances of the informant coming were close to none and at that point and they were about to call it a day, he was still on duty. For about another 15 minutes maybe. The woman could spook the mole, or worse, get caught in some twisted First Order plot that made him waste time and credits in a bar on some nondescript outer planet... Ok, there was probably no evil plot and a beautiful woman was drawing closer.

"Hi. Mind if I sit?" She gestured to the stool beside him. Her voice was smooth and pleasant and she seemed to strain a bit to be heard over the noise. She was pretty, but there was something more to it, something in the way she stood tall and proud, those sharp eyes, playful and wise at the same time.

"I'd be a fool to refuse." Her smile widened and she sat gracefully on the cushion, his eyes immediately drawn to her backside. He snapped them back to her face, but the all-knowing smirk on her plush lips told him he did not go unnoticed.

"I'm Y/N." He reached to shake the outstretched hand, her skin soft against him, but she had a good grip, not as delicate as he'd imagined. His name passed his lips before he could think of an alias, or a reason to use one.

"Poe." He could almost hear Temmin's scoff on the other end of the comms, even if they hadn't been turned them on.

"Nice to meet you, Poe." She almost purred his name and he had to remind himself that they were on a Resistance mission. Focus! "Now tell me, who had the audacity to stand up a guy like you?" He raised an eyebrow, but before he could ask she continued. "I saw you coming in a while ago. Was mustering my courage to come over, but you looked like you were waiting for someone. Didn't want to cause any trouble." Somehow he doubted the last part. He couldn't place the mischievous little glint in her eyes.

"Not used to being the one to make the first move?"

"On the contrary. I've learned in life you have to seize what you desire." Her eyes traveled slowly across him, right hand playing with the rim of her glass.

 "You risk someone else stealing it from right before your eyes. Like I'm doing right now, I suppose. Your date missed the chance, and here you are with me instead."

"Turned out in my favor I'd say." He let his own gaze wander, from the soft features o her face, down the curve of the neck and all the down her low cut of her dress, the valley between her breasts exposed to him.

"We shall see. We've barely met after all, but the night is young." It really wasn't that early anymore, midnight was just hours away. "Tell me about yourself, Poe."

"What would you like to know?"

"Are you a local? You don't look like it, though." There was that look in her eyes again, playful but observant, not letting anything escape her.

"I'm not, I'm from Yavin."

"Long way from home." He shrugged, sipping his drink to give himself time to find an excuse. He'd already given his real name, probably shouldn't follow with 'Resistance pilot' right after. 

"I'm a freighter pilot."

"Ah, hauling goods across the galaxy. You must have seen so many place!" He was not expecting her to be so enthusiastic about it, but he welcomed the attention. For once someone was interested in just him, not the star pilot of the Resistance.

"You wouldn't believe half of them." She scooted over, or maybe he just thought she did, wished it so, but she felt closer nonetheless, lashes fluttering as she fixed him again with her eyes. Her voice was low, like they were sharing a secret, despite the music still blasting around them in the bar.

"Well, what it the strangest place you've seen?" He tried to quickly excluded some of the more famous ex-Empire location and obviously Resistance related ones, but truth was he'd only ever traveled for his work. It was fighting the First Order here and looking thought jedi sites there, endlessly searching for a trace of the Luke Skywalker, one day after the next, it was always related to the conflict between light and dark.

"Probably Telos. The sheer determination to build up a chunk of a planet just to keep it together... it was an impressive sight, motivating." She hummed nodding her head.

"I've always wanted to travel and see everything. So many different ecosystems, cultures, creatures... I get a little sad when I think I'm never going to be able to discover them all."

"You travel a lot then?"

"When the job allows me." She paused and bit her lower lip, drawing Poe's eyes like a magnet. "I'm a glorified errand girl, but I get away with some little excursions." She leaned a little closer still, he could see a faint scar right below her eyebrow, easily missed with a trick of the light. He could feel the genuine excitement in her voice. "I strayed a bit off course once to this planet in the Belderon sector, Lola Sayu. Don't think 've seen anything quite like it... half of it is missing, blown up ages ago, but the atmosphere formed around the missing part, encapsulating it. It made this giant ball, yellow and purple mashed together.

"The Belderon sector? What were doing all the way there?"

"Ok, ok, I strayed a lot off course, like a week maybe, but I just had too see it."

"Seize what you desire..."

"Exactly! We only have one life and we never know when it might end. I plan to make the most of it." Poe stared at the woman for a long moment. She was bright and smart and oh, so beautiful - it was more intoxication than his long forgotten drink. A mouthful of fresh water after days in the desert, her view of the world, simple but joyful, gave him a surge or energy, of hope. Temmin's voce in his ear was low, but the words were exactly what Poe needed to hear.

"You deserve a break, Poe. Our contact ain't coming and we are to leave only in the morning. See you at the ship tomorrow. Black Two, out."

He wasn't sure who leaned in first, but one moment her hand was on his thigh and the next his own hands were cradling her closer, pulling her off her stool and onto his lap. His senses were assaulted all at once, the loud music, the sweet taste of her mouth and the flowery perfume he hadn't notice before. Her lips were soft but the kiss was relentless, both devouring one another, her body pressed so close to his.

She smiled, a little curve of her lips that stirred things in him, that promised passion and a reckless abandonment, and took his hand to pull him along. He craved for more, more kisses, more skin, so he followed without a second thought. She skipped across the street and they hastily made their way to her room on the first floor, stealing kisses in the doorway and on the stairs.

He pressed her against the door as she was locking it, her ass pushing back deliciously. His mouth fell on her shoulder, hands going up her sides, slightly pulling on the fabric of the dress, making her body shiver in anticipation. The damn thing had to come off. Her arms lifted as if thinking the same, so he backed up and pulled the dress over her head with ease. His fingers traced the expanse of her back and hooked on her lace thong pulling it slightly. With a small gasp she turned, eyes dark with lust, only in heels and the flimsy little piece of red lace. Poe couldn't remember a time he had been more turned on.

He kneeled and lifted her leg over his shoulder with little warning. She gasped as his fingers traced the lace, already seeping wet and ready. The thong was pulled aside and his mouth was on her, sucking and biting eagerly, his tongue circling her bud, lapping at her flowing juices. She moaned loudly, her fingers twisting in his hair.

"Not fair..." She panted from above, but her hips bucked towards him. He smirked and pushes a finger inside her, then a second, lifting his head to look at her. She was gorgeous, ragged breaths and knees trembling as he pumped his fingers vigorously, thumb stroking her clit. The obscene sound of her moans and dripping pussy filled the small room, tantalizing. He got up, mouth clasping over a nipple and she arched her back pressing to him, head rolling back against the door as the walls clamped over his digits. Poe backed up barely an inch to look her in the eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth, needing to taste her one more time. She let out a straggled breath, half sigh half moan and roughly pulled on his T-shirt. "Clothes off. Now."

"Yes ma'am." He was happy to oblige, his dick straining in his boxers, already damp with precum. His clothes flew off unceremoniously, their hands bumping as they both pulled on the fabric, rushed to unzip his pants and pull down his boxers. Hand on his chest, she backtracked him until his legs hit the bed then pushed him on it. Her hands traced up his legs, crawling in between them, eyes never leaving her prize as she laid kisses up his thighs, nails scraping at his skin, closer to where he needed her the most. He took hold of her upper arms and spun them around so she was caged beneath him.

"Not fair." She breathed out a moan as his dick rubbed against her folds. He wanted her, needed her like air.

"Next time."

"Deal." He pushed inside her in one swift move, rougher than he intended, but she let out the most erotic sound he's ever heard, a loud and lewd groan, ringing in his ears as her body purred. Her words slurred from her pretty little mouths in short breaths.

"Shit, Poe, you're driving me, insane." She had no idea what she was doing to him. His mouth was on hers again, drowning her moans as he rocked his hips, plummeting in her core. Her shaking arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer like her life depended on it. He hooked one arm beneath her knee and pulled her leg up, spreading even more, going even deeper. It was raw and desperate, passion in its purest form. Her nails dug at the skin on his back, his name chanted from her lips like a prayer as his rhythm turned merciless. Thank the gods he'd told her his real name. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, nipping and sucking at he tender flesh.

Her eyes rolled in back of her head and his entire body shook above her as her pussy milked his dick with greed, clamping around him like a vice. Their breaths mingled, their skin sleek with sweat, but tingling still. With the last sliver or power he had, Poe rolled on his back and pulled her with him, her leg slipping over his, her hand on his chest. He was still in a daze, but looking at her she was not better, eyes half closed and unfocused, her fingers drawing lazy patters on his chest. He remember bringing her hand to his lips before falling asleep.

He woke up first, Y/N still curled over him, hair sprawled on the pillow behind her. She had pulled a silky sheet over them some time after he passed out. He smiled, lips pressing gently on the top of head. He pulled her closer, almost not believing she was real. She stirred, letting out a contents little sigh, but didn't wake up.

Poe enjoyed the feeling of her in his arms a moment longer, his brows more furrowed by the second, his lips pressed in a thin line. He had to go soon and he didn't know when he would see her again. His hand trailed the smooth skin on her back, not wanting to leave the bed, taking in every detail of her beautiful face. When the sun had finally fully risen there was no more time left.

He went to collect his scattered clothes, his mind running a mile a minute, thinking of how to tell her he was actually in the Resistance, wondering his she will react to him lying about his work, about his identity, but most importantly if she would want to see him again. Gods, he hasn't even left her room yet and he was already dreaming of when he'd hold her in his arms next. Poe smiled, he felt like a teen again, the only care in the world the affection of his lover.

But the world was cruel and he was not a silly boy back on Yavin. He found his T-shirt thrown all the way near her side of the bed and as he bend down to retrieve it, the holopad on the nightstand beeped loudly three times before a robotic voice boomed in the small chamber, the dark figure projecting from it chilling his blood.

"Y/N, I assume the traitor has been dealt with already. You better be on the Supremacy when I arriver to continue our training. You have an hour." Poe's breath caught in his throat, his mind so overwhelmed it first went blank then exploded with the possibilities and implications. The idea that he'd spent the night with one of the First Order's top assets... Did he steal something off him? Had it been a trap? 

His eyes fell on the holopad again, the blinking light showing she had a message. From fucking Kylo Ren! She was training with Leia's kid, she was dark side.

She was evil.

But she couldn't be, could she? 

Poe was so lost in thought he didn't even hear her as she stretched in bed behind him, the yellow glint in her eyes catching in the morning sun as her gaze fell on him.

Chapter 2 >