#though there were plenty of other very flawed logic moments as well

[vickyvicarious]

Oof, this chapter has not aged well. Hard to keep from wincing as Ishmael reassures me there is absolutely no need to ever worry about any whales going extinct, they are so different from buffalo, it's fine to hunt them vigorously down.

[specialbrewbutterbeer]

Secret Keeper (Regulus Black X Reader)

Word Count: 3004

TW: Drowning, death, nightmares, sleep paralysis

AN: I loooovvvveedd writing this- I hope I got the logic of the magic right and that the ending isn't too convoluted to get. If it just tell me lol and I'll see if we both came to the same co conclusion about the ending, swap notes i guess :)

Feedback and requests are very very welcome!

REQUESTS (OPEN)

MASTERLIST

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What she had felt for him, for so long, was something so warm. Her limbs felt light around him, she felt like someone could grab onto her arm and their hand would go straight through her like custard, like a creme caramel, all soft and sweet and gooey.

He had such a hold on her heart and he didn't know a thing about it. Even when her eyes sparkled to look at him, and these days she shivered, butterflies in her stomach, when they were close- as they often were.

She just adored him. She always had, even as children she knew there was some kind of bond between them that no-one else could ever replicate. There was no reason for it, she had met plenty of other boys over the years, plenty of girls, so had he, but still he was special.

She often wondered if it was symptomatic of having grown up together, but she really had no idea. Even his flaws couldn't deter her. The little moments if arrogance that he could sometimes display, or his irritating need for control that stemmed from an element of perfectionism thay he possessed- all of it, she loved. She had perhaps known him for so long that these things were second nature to dismiss and gloss over, or roll her eyes at. She wasn't below ever being upset with him for these things, despite her feelings, but neither of them ever lasted long like that.

After leaving school, she moved out of her parents house, into a small flat on the very top floor of a victorian tenement building in Knockturn alley. Many people were wary of that area, the types that hung around there, but she liked it. It was quiet and no-one much bothered anyone else if they didn't know them, and her family's reputation and associations protected her wellwell enough. Besides that though, she was a skilled witch, who could look after herself well enough. By that age she had begun her further studies, she had chosen alchemy and achived quite a lot in the subject already, inventing a mixture, made from wine vinegar and which tasted exactly like raspberry juice, that significantly helped to reduce port-key sickness. She had been very proud of that achivement and how popular it had become- particularly among those travelling to quiddich games via official port-keys. Her studies were also helped by remaining in Knockturn alley, the shops there had plenty of helpful equipment, ingredients and textbooks on the subject.

Her little flat was her own slice of heaven. She adored it. It wasn't much but it suited her. It only had two rooms and a little store cupboard by the ydoor. Her little kitchenette had a small gas stove and quite a large copper sink. It had plenty of cupboards and a small white fridge freezer that was likely from the 60's by the look of it. It was titled in vibrant green tiles that seemed to be exactly the same as those used inside the Ministry of Magic- and when (Y/n) had asked her landlord about them, he simply said that a previous tenant had worked there, and stolen a tile a day for five year to a achieve their nice backsplash and bathroom (that was decked out the emerald green too). She didn't argue, it did look quite wonderful.

The rest of the small room included a sofa (which she used as a bed, deciding there wasn't enough room for both and that it was decidedly comfier to sleep on than any bed she had ever been in) a small wooden coffee table, an old persian rug that covered most of the floor, stopping the old, dark polished wood from freezing her feet of a morning time, a gas heater, a tall round table, that was probably intended for perching a large house plant on top of, but that she kept a radio on, and more shelves than she could have imagined she could fit in there. She had stuffed those with books and curios, framed photographs and such.

The bathroom, aside from it's stolen tiles, had a frosted glass washbasin, in the shape of a clam shell, the toilet of course, nothing special there, and the previous tenant had also managed to shrink a clawfooted bathtub to a length small enough to fit in the tiny room.

All in all it was a very lovely little flat, which no one would have expected from looking at the outside of the building. To keep up this little lifestyle, without taking handouts from her family, she had also begun working in the White Wyvern. Like everything in Knockturn alley, the pub was quite. The only noises you heard in there were the things that went bump in the night, and the entire place smelled of furniture polish and stale larger. But she had seen so many mysterious hooded figures and people with black eyes, or just one eye, or with nefarious associations, that it was normal. To her, it was normal anyway. Like Regulus, her family were pureblood, they were powerful and influential and sat right beside the Black's in the Dark Lord's inner circle. She had stayed out of it as much as she could, intimidated by the prospect of joining them, but equally of leaving them behind.

This was why she knew Regulus so well, and had done for so long. As children, when their families met for balls and dinner parties, or meetings of the Dark Lord's followers, they were together.

From there, a friendship that lasted, had blossomed.

She never had the courage to tell him how she felt. Maybe though she didn't quite notice the pull being that powerful- because it had always been. And maybe he should have noticed.

These days, when she wasn't working, or studying, and neither was Regulus, they still found time to be together.

If that meant simply visiting eachother, lazing about in one another's rooms, or wandering together through Diagon or Knockturn alley at night- dipping in and out of shops, then that was what they would do.

And so life was quiet. Life was warm and she got to glance lovingly at his face, even if it was in murky lamplight or in tiny claustrophobic shops that sold dark arts paraphernalia. She got to laugh with him, and take the piss out of him. She got to poke him in the ribs when he made a stupid joke and it didn't matter that he didn't clock what shone in her eyes for him. They had time.

She thought they had time.

She had fallen asleep one night that summer, with the radio on, wrapped in an old candlewick bedspread and the very lightest rain tapping occasionally on the thin panes of the two windows her flat had. It wasn't very late in the evening, she had only dozed off, a warm grey light coming in off of the clouds, so she woke up with a start as quick loud footsteps came rushing up the stairs toward her door.

Before she could panic, or even think about if it needed to be panicked about, she heard that familiar voice on the otherside; mingled with the dull thud as he knocked hard on the door.

She jumped up and unbolted it, so that Regulus came tumbling in nearly on top of her. He didn't usually turn up unannounced so this was somewhat strange.

He was out of breath, and his eyes were lit up.

"Regulus?" She asked, surprised at him.

"I've discovered it- finally!" He spoke, gently pushing (Y/n) further back into the little flat so that he could shut the door behind him.

She just gave him a puzzled look, her lips turned up into a small uncertian smile, completely unsuspecting of the gravity of the words that would follow.

"Horcruxes." He whispered, wide-eyed, his hand gripping her arm tightly. "He has horcruxes."

"What?" (Y/n) questioned, though she knew exactly who he was speaking of.

"He's not mortal whilst they exist-" He spoke, those eyes of his wild and glossy. "And I think I know where one of them is, a locket."

"Reggie- that's awfully dangerous information." She told him, now worried for him.

"Yes, I know- that's why I can't tell you anymore than that, but why you need to be the one other person who does know that much." He held onto her by her arms, his grip nothing like the gentle one his usually retained. "Just in case."

"Just in case what?" Now she was really alarmed. Reggie had always been particularly proficient in the dark arts. It's one of the reasons he was inducted into the Death Eater circle so young, though he quickly regretted that.

He fell silent. Just look at her, and swallowed hard.

"Reggie- in case of what?" She furrowed her brow and pulled away, repeating her question.

"In case I can't do this on my own one day." He spoke, now more calmly, his voice less shaky, running as smoothly and collected as it usually had.

"Surely you don't mean to-" (Y/n) began but Reg interruptted her before she could continue.

"Yes, I do. You know as well as I that he can't go on like this." He spoke in a hushed tone, loosening his grip on her arms he pulled her over to the sofa where they sat down. "And I can't go on with this mark, knowing what it means and what might happen to the entire wizarding world if he succeeds. We both know very well how powerful that fucking creature is." She just nodded. This wasn't something this pair usually discussed. There was too much fear. But he was right.

"You'll not do anything stupid will you?" She asked. He shook his head.

"Not a thing." He smiled. That warm smile like nothing was wrong. But she knew what Reg was like, hot headed at times like his brother and mother both were, and stubborn. Or more accurately, he was determined. He wasn't a man you could stop once he put his mind to something.

He saw the worry in her face. He knew what she was thinking. They'd both stayed out of this war for so long, and now Reg had put himself right into the centre of it.

"We were never going to be able to avoid it." He spoke and took her hand. "It's too big for all that." He tried to reassure her.

"I know." She spoke, her eyes set on the patterns in the rug. "But-" her chest became a little tight and she felt a lump in her throat. "I couldn't bare it if anything happened to you Reg. I worry about you enough now with that thing on your arm- what you'll be called up to do, some awful thing that'll get you killed or maimed or captured." She rushed out all her words at once, in one breath, trying not let her growing anxiety take hold of her.

"I know-" Reg hushed her, squeezing her hand a little. He thought for a moment. "We'll cast a fidelius charm." He breathed out the words. "To keep you safe. That way no-one will know that we know about the Horcruxes, unless you or I tell them. And I know you shan't tell a soul unless you believe it necessary-" he spoke and produced his wand.

She held his hand, and he rolled his thumb over her knuckled comfortingly as he muttered a few words. In seconds it was done- nothing more than a warm feeling in her fingertips. He smiled and pulled her in to an embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed her eyes closed. He stroked her hair softly as he held her close to him. There was some strange bittersweetness in the embrace.

Eventually though, he pulled away.

"I've got to go-" he spoke. She immediately sensed he hadn't told her the truth about staying out of danger.

"You're not going to do anything stupid?" She repeated her question from earlier. Reg shook his head, the corner of his lips turned up as he stood. She still held his hand, their fingers loosely hooked together.

"Just some-" he hesitated for just a moment. "Just more research." He smiled.

(Y/n) stood beside him, by now it was dark. He turned to the door, and she followed him to it. As he stepped out, he turned and smiled at her.

"Don't worry now, things will be just as they need to be." He spoke and kissed her cheek, as he always did when they parted.

"For you Reggie, I'll do my very best." She tried to laugh but it felt much more like choking. She watched him walk back down the tenement steps and away, before solidly bolting the door behind her.

That night, she awoke in a sudden haze. It was pitch black and her heart was beating incredibly loudly, she could hear very little over it- she felt like her chest was being compressed by a large weight, she wanted to scream but couldn't. Panic set in in just seconds and she found she couldn't move. All she could do was open and close her eyes.

She blinked and saw a shadow moving in front of her. In moments, the wispy granular shadow turning into a skulking blob and the into recognisable form. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she saw him. Regulus. Wuth those awful wild wide eyes. Dripping wet. He leant over her and she was sure she could feel water dripping on to her face. Surely this was nightmare- some sort of awful nightmare but it didn't stop.

When she closed her eyes tight she could still feel the water and the weight on her chest got heavier. She felt a coldness all over her, like ice and she opened her eyes again as she felt water fill her lungs. She tried to scream or move but couldn't, and she just stared at Regulus. His unmoving face, sheet white, wet strands of hair layed over it.

It was like torture- unable to breath or move, this figure that seemed to familiar but couldn't have been. She managed to open her mouth, but couldn't make a sound. Her lungs and throat began to hurt, the freezing cold feeling intensified, she could taste salt in her mouth.

And then he reached out to touch her. He took her hand and as he did her mind was entirely taken over with foreign images. A place she didn't know flashed into her head, and she felt hot claws gorge deep wounds into her legs and torso, as if dragging her down- painfully loosing grip on her and gaining a new foothold on her limbs by digging back into them. She saw a locket, swirling amber hues in it, the serpent crest she knew so well embedded in it. She felt as if she were seeing through someone elses eyes, hearing all they heard, thrathing water and something muffled- and only broke out of it as she felt a deathly cold pair of lips meet hers. She returned to her own eyes and found him, squeezing her hand in his, as freezing and wet as it was, and softly placing a kiss on her lips. She noticed his lack of breath, his chest didn't move up and down and air didn't seem to pass between his lips at all. But that kiss, it was only quick- and followed by words that she didn't understand, husky words that seemed to drift away sadly into the air- all elongated and wispy and hard to make out. He spoke it again and again for what seemed to be hours but could have only been minutes as she still couldn't breathe. His voice just seemed to echo, as if he spoke from some far away chamber.

She felt her hand in his and she watched as he looked down at them, before pulling his ring off of his finger, and placing it on hers. Then, in moments, all the feeling and fear melted away. He was gone and there was nothing there. She could move again and breath- which she took advantage of and drank in as much air as she could. Before she could even think though, she felt a shiver overcome her, and her eyes became impossible to keep open.

In the morning, she started awake. She recalled every moment of the night before in such vivid detail, it still terrified her. She played it through, trying to make sense of it all but couldn't. She stood and ran to the door, still locked and bolted as she had left it. There was no way it could have been anything but a nightmare. Strong magic was used to stop apperation and disapperation being used to enter or leave this building, bending to an old ministry rule that had long become obsolete, so the door was the only entry.

She looked down, trying to get her startled breath back- and saw a glisten in the corner of her eye. Something reflecting off of the wall in the early morning sunlight. She liften her hand hesitantly and- there!

Regulus' ring. A silver signet ring, one he had never been without. It's square face carved with the Black family crest. She took it off and turned it over- peering inside- and sure enough, his intials, RAB, in beautiful script on the reverse of the face. This was his ring. It could only be his ring, there wasn't another like it in the world. Inside the band, she noticed something else. Something new. 'Nostrum secretum vincit mortem'.

When she read that, she knew. She quickly replaced the ring and never once took it off again.

Though it was only years later that she would come to fully understand what had happened that night, she had always known that what she had experienced was unfinished business.

[parachutingkitten]

Y'all suck at dissecting Kai's character, so I guess I have to do it.

And I'm not even a Kai stan. He's a bottom tier ninja for me, which I guess means you can trust me, cuz I'm not biased, but also why am I the one doing this? I don't know about y'all, but recently on my dash, the method by which Kai fans try to make him sound good is... saying the writers hate him, ignore him, and that he isn't written well? Which... I mean there is a little bit of truth to, but like yikes guys, is this the best you got? Kai is a wonderful character with plenty of attention from the writers, a meaningful piece of the cast when put in secondary rolls, fairly consistent character writing with actual progression and valuable qualities that help the team without having to be the smart one- despite what some posts might tell you.

Let's get one thing cleared up: Ninjago isn't the best written show. By high level Hollywood standards, most the character arcs are kinda weak or too heavy handed, character consistency can be iffy, and most things serve the plot rather than the characters. There is no character you can point to and say "wow, this character is written so well! No complaints!" Nya and Jay were butchered by their weird love plot, Cole's one season doesn't actually give him an arc, Zane's been nothing but the robot numbers guy for like 10 seasons now, and Lloyd seems to be incapable of doing anything but relive the same one piece of dad angst for depth. Sorry, it's true. All the characters suck when you look at it from a large scale writing perspective. So when I say Kai is well written, I mean by ninjago kids show standards- cuz that's the scale we're working on. No, you couldn't drop Kai into a well written drama, but as far as ninjago goes... he's got a lot going for him, and by no means is he the biggest victim of poor writing.

(fair warning, wall of text below)

The title is a bit disingenuous. There are plenty of good Kai character break downs. What I am presenting here is a more positive perspective. On the whole, I will tend to give the writers the benefit of the doubt, and credit for what they do right writing is hard guys. That's what I'm doing here. I don't see much sense in getting mad the writers on behalf of Kai, or any other character. Ninjago is a simplistic ensemble show that works because of the identifiable simplicity of its main characters with some deeper layers hidden underneath if you keep watching. They've given us a damn good show with some damn enjoyable characters, so here are some criticisms I feel are a little flawed:

First, let's get the 'focus' thing out of the way. Apparently there are people saying Kai doesn't have a season yet? Which... what? I mean, I get that the pilots aren't a full season, the first two seasons, though he is the central protagonist, aren't "Kai seasons" as we've come to define ninja focus seasons, season 7, though he gets majority focus, he shares with his sister. But like... did y'all just forget about season 4? You know, the season where he had the title card, was on the box sets, got the love interest, and the majority of the A-plot? not to mention it's the best season don't @ me Like... if season 4 isn't a Kai season, I can make a damn good argument that season 3 isn't a Zane season, and I doubt anyone wants to go down that rabbit hole. I really can't wrap my head around this one. And I get that the fandom hates season 11 for some reason, but like you can't just pretend it doesn't exist. Kai has a consistent arc across 30 episodes in which he takes his powers for granted, loses them, and learns that, not only does he have value within the team without them, but that his element is intrinsically a part of him that he reclaims, bringing them back more powerful than ever, and with new respect for them. That's one of the most solid arcs in the whole series- the location is even thematically connected to his element. That's some good stuff right there! (Quick plug for season 11 if you haven't watched it in a while. Give it a rewatch, you might be pleasantly surprised)

Not to mention the writers give him fun side stuff all the time. Lots of fears of tech and water to overcome, a deep protective streak with Lloyd, becoming a chancellor, having a true potential actually relevant to the plot as a whole, blacksmith responsibilities, befriending dragons, hanging out with his dad. Not to mention actual focus stuff we haven't talked about yet, like his whole "my dad is evil" phase, and his "I might be evil" phase with him and Skylor. And on top of that, even when he doesn't have an explicit side plot, he's always just a fun and dynamic side character to make jokes or give exposition.

Now, into character stuff. Let's start with Kai's hot headed-ness. Some people say he's been loosing this quality, and I will admit, that's true! But those that claim this makes him inconsistent... I strongly disagree. In early seasons, Kai's temper would lead him to snap at his friends or make stupid decisions that set the team back (see episode 2 Zane freak out)- these are bad things. These are character flaws, yes? Now, in newer seasons, people say that he's inconsistent, cuz sometimes he'll be hot headed, and sometimes he won't. I'd say, this is exactly how being hot headed... works? It flares up without warning, and as an individual gets control of it, it'll pop up less and less often because they're channeling it into productive things - like say directing the anger towards an enemy (see season 11 end freak out). Kai has gained control of a character flaw, and though it still pops up on occasion, the fact that it's a once in a while kind of thing speaks to his growth. I have a little brother who has this exact personality, and watching him grow up, I can tell you, this is how it is. He used to snap all the time, and he still does sometimes, but much less frequently, because he's a more mature person with better control of his emotions. This is a good thing. This is overcoming personal flaws. This is progression we're seeing.

And while you're hyper focused on this one aspect of him, things like his cocky confidence haven't changed a bit. I mean, that season 3 bit between him and Pixal, and his season 11 "fire maker" streak have the exact same energy. You can not convince me otherwise.

Another adjacent quality that hasn't been dampened is Kai's impulsiveness. This can be a good quality of his, he'll get into a fight without thinking, getting the jump on the enemy. Good stuff. But, this has become such a well defined trait of Kai's that it has been used in a comedic capacity. This is what happens when a character is extremely consistent to the extent that both the audience and the characters in universe would be able to predict their actions. Kai's impulsivity used to be a more serious quality that put himself and others at risk, and was a big power move whenever he did something rash, but it's become such a staple of the show that it's now being used for comedy. That isn't Kai's impulsivity going away, that's Kai's impulsivity being recontextualized for the sake of the show. The season 9 "Who's stupid enough to jump on that thing" isn't a joke at the expense of Kai just for being dumb, it's a joke at Kai's being so predictably impulsive that everyone already knows he'll be the one to put himself in an insane amount of danger without thinking twice (you know, something stupid that might get him killed). But because in this instance, the danger is warranted, this is bravery. It's a complement to his character- it's what ends up defeating the colossus. Why are some people so bothered by this joke?

Oh right, cuz for some reason people want to peg Kai as the smart one? Look, Kai isn't stupid, none of the ninja are. All of them have smart moments (all of them have dumb ones too) and Kai can certainly handle himself, but "smart" is definitely not one of his defining characteristics- I think some people are confusing smart for his actual strength. Connected to his impulsivity, Kai has very good simplistic instincts. He sees the big picture and looks at the most surface level solution- which when the situation calls for it, that does indeed make him smart. But the same logic that led him to think "This snake has a glowing target on its head, lets hit it" also led him to think "I'm in a video game, therefore I am immortal." Are you really going to look at me and say he figured out Lloyd was the green ninja through logical deduction and a careful consideration of the facts? No. He had a gut feeling, and he trusted it. Instincts- instincts paired with his impulsive following of said instincts is what leads him to solve problems- and sometimes, that can be extremely effective. This goes for other ninja too. Jay isn't the smartest ninja- I would really only classify Zane and Nya as having intelligence define them (hence their ship name). But Jay is extremely creative and crafty. He also knows his was around mechanics, and as such, this will lead him to come up with creative tech based solutions which are smart. But, idk about you, if I had to point to another ninja as being 'dumb' it would 100% be Jay. Kai is a lot of things. He's passionate and determined and confident and persistent. He's a good improvisor, he's powerful and he's charming! These are all wonderful qualities, he doesn't also have to be the smart one. I am the worlds biggest Pixal stan, and she's a smart, sassy, powerful character, but I'm not gonna sit here and tell you she's also hilarious and adaptable and strong willed. She's a straight man to all the ninja's antics, extremely tied to her samurai x suit, and lets people push her around all the time. That doesn't mean she can't be funny, or self interested, but when she does act these ways, it stems from her other more prominent qualities. That make sense?

And while we're clearing up what Kai isn't, please stop characterizing Kai as an overly protective brother - especially romantically. The only two times he's been romantically protective to Nya are in Wu's Teas which I mean, come on and in the pilots when Jay is literally a stranger. For crying out loud, by the end of the pilot, he's smiling when Jay and Nya hug. That's not overly protective, that's just normal, any reasonable person would react this way, protective. And it's such a great stereotype break for a kids show like ninjago, having an older brother who actually trusts his younger sister to be her own independent person who can make her own decisions. I mean, I guess it's fine if you HC differently but like... idk, I don't buy it.

Now, is there still room to criticize the writers? Yes. Hell yes. But not to an extent greater than any other character. Could he have had more of a defined reaction to events of the most recent season that I won't name for the sake of spoilers? Yes. But could Zane have reacted for more than .5 seconds at being an evil war lord for apparently 60 years? Yeah. Has Kai taken a back seat in the past 4 seasons? Yeah. But so has Lloyd- and he's literally the main character of the show. Not to mention two of those seasons have gone to people who had to wait over ten seasons to get one to themselves, and one of them is a 40 minute special. Kai's doing just fine.

Anyway. Kai is great. He's a fun, stereotype breaking, impulsively driven, ball of energy and confidence who gets a good amount of screen time and some fun side plots.

One last thing to clear up: no hate to anyone. This isn't targeted at anyone specific, this post has been a long time coming, I've just seen some weird overblown claims on various platforms over the past few months and I finally sat down to write about it.

I like the Kai content we have. After all, if the writers were really that bad at writing him, then no one would like him.

Wow this was so much longer than I thought it would be. Um... if you have other long winded rants you'd like to see from me... let me know I guess?

[iam93percentstardust]

First of all, Happy Birthday Month!!! Many happy returns!! I have been reading fanfiction for e very long time, but this is the 1st time I have ever submitted a prompt. I kinda think Stuckony would be great but I am down with Winteriron or Stony, wherever the prompt takes you. You're amazing so I know it's gonna be fantastic! Thanks in advance!💜💜💜 “Is that your robot?” “That’s a rude way to talk about my husband.”

This was such a fun prompt to write, thanks for sending it in! And thank you for the birthday wishes!

As always, everything I write is also on ao3

~

Something taps against Bucky’s foot. At first, he ignores it, figuring someone just bumped into him, but then it happens again and then for a third time. He looks down, fully expecting to see a small child, only to see a small gold and blue robot run into his shoe, back up, and then run right into it again. It looks a little like an atom with a central core and three rings spinning around it in multiple directions. He smiles at the oddly charming behavior and bends down to pick the robot up, wondering if it came from one of the many glittering exhibits he and Steve have walked past today or if it belongs to someone.

“Hey, Stevie,” he begins, thinking to share it with his husband, but when he looks around, Steve isn’t anywhere near him. Bucky sighs and turns in a circle, hoping to spot him somewhere in the packed crowd. Who knew the Stark Expo would draw so many people on a Tuesday in the middle of March? “Stevie, you’re too small to wander off like this.”

He feels a tug on the hem of his coat and then a small voice primly says, “Excuse me, Mister Sir, that’s mine.”

“Huh?” He looks down again, this time to see a young girl of about six or seven years holding onto his jacket. “Oh! Is this your robot?” he asks, crouching down to her level.

“That’s a rude way to talk about my husband,” she informs him, holding her hand out for the robot.

Bucky blinks at her. He’s heard about kids playing pretend with their toys but that’s usually things like Legos or dolls, right? Not a whirring, circular robot that doesn’t even have a face.

“Can I please have Jarvis back?” the girl asks, insistently tugging on his coat again.

“Oh, sure, sorry about that.” He passes it back to her and then looks around, hoping to spot the girl’s parents before she realizes she’s left them. He’s dealt with plenty of upset kids at the school he and Steve work at, so he’s more than capable of handling any meltdown she might have, but he’d like to stave it off if he can. Unfortunately, he doesn’t spot anyone frantically looking for a lost kid, so he’s just getting ready to resign himself to dealing with a crying kid when Steve appears from out of nowhere.

“Hey, Buck, sorry about that, got sidetracked by one of the exhibits. The person works with sand and sound to make art, it was really—” He stops short at the sight of the girl hugging her robot. “Bucky. You didn’t pick up another stray, did you?”

“Excuse me?” Bucky asks, affronted. “I never—”

“No? So what’s Alpine then? Or Dodger? Or, for that matter, me?” Steve crouches down next to the girl and holds out his boney hand for her to shake. “Hey, kid, my name’s Steve. This is Bucky. What’s your name?”

She gives him a suspicious look, but must decide that he’s safe because she says after a moment, “Morgan.”

“Well, Miss Morgan, why don’t we see about finding your parents?” Steve offers. “It looks like they’ve gotten lost.”

Morgan turns one way and then the other, noticing for the first time that she’s alone. Her lower lip trembles, eyes welling up with big, fat tears. “I—”

Bucky, sensing an impending meltdown, quickly says, “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find them. We grown-ups are pretty good at getting lost. It’s up to brave kids like you to help us get found again.”

Morgan sniffs, but nods. “I’m here with Uncle Happy,” she says, sliding her small hand into Bucky’s.

“Then let’s find Uncle Happy,” Steve says decisively. “Would you like me to hold your robot?”

She shakes her head, clutching the robot tighter to her. “You can’t take JARVIS,” she says. “He’s mine.”

“Okay,” Bucky says soothingly. “We won’t take him away.” He shares a quick glance with Steve. “Should we start at Lost and Found?”

“If I may, Sirs,” the robot suddenly says in a cool British voice. Steve yelps, jumping away from it. Bucky startles, dropping Morgan’s hand.

Morgan giggles. “Don’t worry, that’s just Jarvis. He’s an artificial intelligence.” She pronounces the words carefully, like it’s something she’s been taught to say. She holds the robot up, who lights up with every word he says.

“The tracker in this device has been activated. There will be no need to move from this location. Sir will be here momentarily,” Jarvis tells them.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Steve mutters, taking a closer look at the robot. “It talks.”

“I am Just A Rather Very Intelligent System or—”

“JARVIS,” Bucky realizes. “It’s an acronym, not a name.”

“Quite so, though I was named for Edwin Jarvis, an old friend of Sir’s.”

“And Sir is…?”

JARVIS lights up like it’s going to talk again but before it says anything, they hear someone say loudly, “Morgan H. Stark!”

Morgan’s face brightens and she turns, running right into the arms of a slender man in a suit, closely followed by another larger man. “Daddy!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around the man, who catches her up in a tight hug.

“What have we said about running off?” the man asks, sounding worried. He has a familiar voice, Bucky thinks. He wonders where he’s heard it before.

“I didn’t run off,” Morgan protests. “JARVIS did and I had to get him.”

“You didn’t think to tell Happy where you were going?” The man gently brushes her hair out of her eyes before straightening up, setting Morgan on his hip.

“I didn’t have time! JARVIS was moving too fast.”

The man makes a dissenting noise. “Flaw in your logic.”

She shakes her head. “No flaw.”

“Yes flaw. JARVIS has a tracker. You, O’ Great and Powerful Maguna, do not.”

It’s adorable watching the two of them together, seeing the way the man softens the longer he holds Morgan and the way Morgan leans into him. And it doesn’t hurt that the man is wildly attractive too: all big brown eyes and curly hair that Bucky wants to feel between his fingers (he bets they’re as soft as they look). Bucky feels something stir in his heart that he hasn’t felt since the day he met Steve. He quickly glances at Steve, wondering if Steve feels the same way. Steve’s eyes could practically be cartoon hearts, he’s melting so obviously, and Bucky smiles to himself. Maybe, if they play their cards right…

“But I didn’t get lost,” Morgan protests and points at Bucky and Steve. “I had Mister Bucky and Mister Steve.”

Abruptly, all the warmth drains out of the man’s expression. He looks at Bucky and Steve coldly, mouth a thin, tight line. “Oh you did, did you?” He turns to the second man behind him. “Happy, could you take Morgan for a moment?”

“Daddy—” But Happy—who looks more like an Angry than a Happy—has already nodded and taken her from the man’s arms.

“You got it, boss.”

The man now stalks closer to Bucky and Steve. “Alright,” he says abruptly. “How much do I owe you?”

Steve’s expression goes blank. “I’m sorry?” he repeats, voice tense with hidden anger.

“What do you want for this?” the man says. “Finder’s fee, something to keep you quiet, what do you want?”

“Look, I don’t know who you think you are—” Steve begins heatedly, right as Bucky realizes where he’s seen this man before.

“Stevie, stop,” he mutters, catching Steve’s arm before he can get too angry and take a swing at the guy. “That’s Tony Stark.”

“Huh?” Steve looks again and then his face clears. “Oh. This must happen a lot, huh?”

Stark glances between the two of them, looking confused now, rather than angry. That’s good; that’s something Bucky can work with.

“Look, we’re sorry about all this,” Bucky says apologetically. “But we’re really not trying to cause trouble. Morgan’s robot ran into my foot, that’s how we met. We didn’t even know who she was until you got here. You don’t need to pay us off or anything.”

“Really,” Stark states suspiciously. “So I’m not going to wake up tomorrow and all the headlines are saying that I can’t take care of my kid?”

“We’re both teachers,” Steve says, gesturing at him and Bucky. “We know kids wander off all the time. They’re more slippery than a bar of soap in the shower. You’re not going to hear anything from us.”

Stark slumps and runs a hand through his hair. He looks tired all of a sudden, not that Bucky can blame him now that he knows this entire Expo is being run by him. “Sorry,” he says quietly. “You just can’t be too careful in this line of business.”

“I can imagine,” Bucky says soothingly. “If it would help, we’d be happy to sign an NDA.”

“Pepper would probably kill me if I didn’t ask you to,” Stark admits. He sighs. “Great, first time I contact her since the divorce and it’s about my fuckup.”

“You’re not a fuckup,” Steve insists. “Seriously, this happens all the time. Just last week, I had a kid decide he wanted to keep looking at the snails in the Botanical Gardens we took the kids to while the rest of us went to lunch. Took me an hour to find him.”

Tony gives him a hopeful look. “Really?”

“Really. It’s okay. You’re not a bad parent.”

“I’ve just—I’m supposed to be presenting in—” He checks his watch.

Happy shouts, “Five minutes ago, boss.”

“It’s my presentation, I think they can wait for me if I’m running late. Morgan didn’t want to wait while I was prepping so I asked Happy to take her to see some of the exhibits. I didn’t think she’d wander away.”

“Well, hey, we’d hate to make you any later,” Bucky says. “So we’ll let you—”

Morgan pipes up, “Daddy, can’t Mister Bucky and Mister Steve come too?”

“Well—”

“They were so nice,” she says, making her eyes big and wide. “And I think we should be nice and let them watch.”

Stark smiles helplessly at her. “You know what that is? That’s extortion.” He turns to Bucky and Steve again and shrugs. “Do you want to come? It’ll be backstage, so you won’t get to see as much as you would if you were watching from the front. But it’ll be fun, I’m presenting the new arc reactor. Oh—and please, call me Tony. We’re all friends here, no need to stand on formalities.”

Steve and Bucky have one of their silent conversations that always bothers their friends. “Are you sure?” Steve asks. “We wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

Tony gives Bucky a very obvious onceover, followed by a look at Steve, just as obvious and just as hungry. “Oh yes,” he murmurs. “I’m sure.”

“Then we’d love to,” Bucky says, giving Tony a onceover of his own. He and Steve don’t often invite a third partner to their bed, but there’s just something about Tony.

“Great!” Tony chirps. His eyes go dark and heated as he adds, “And maybe afterwards, we can talk about a way to pay you back for helping Morgan out.”

“Tony, really, we don’t need anything,” Steve begins.

“Please,” Tony purrs. “I insist.”

[sidespromptblog]

What to Do?: Chapter 6

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

Warnings: Angst, Remus Accurate Thoughts, and Hurt/Comfort.

Summary: Logan realizing that his first mistake was seeing the other sides as anything other than coworkers. They weren't a family. They didn't even like each other. How had he not realized sooner?

Word Count: 1,880

There was a moment where the silence felt like a ticking clock between the two of them, and then...

The moment of weakness was over in a second.

Virgil hastily jerked his shoulder away from Remus’ very touch so hard that the other side was sure that he nearly dislocated it with such a move, it didn’t stop Remus from raising an eyebrow at Virgil as the anxious side snarled at him. As if he wasn’t just weeping his eyes out moments ago, and as if Virgil hadn’t just looked at him like he was hoping that Remus held all the answers to his problems the moment he had appeared. 

“What do you want?!” The anxious side spat out, had he fur Remus was sure that it would have been bristling like a cat’s. “Why are you here? Didn’t you ruin enough?” 

Ouch.

That shouldn’t have hurt the way that it did, and yet… somehow coming from Virgil of all people, it stung in a way that dish soap could not. It was like… peroxide on a fresh scrape. Like it was bubbling and destroying each cell in its wake, not caring if it was bacteria or any normal cell trying to help. 

That’s what this pain felt like.  

For a second there was nothing to be said, not as he felt Virgil’s scorching heated glare that told him just how much the anxious side hated him in this moment. Although, for the life of him, he couldn’t tell if it was because he had seen Virgil in his moment of weakness, or… if Virgil was secretly grateful that he had come along when he did. Either way he could only blatantly stare at the other side for a moment, taking in how Virgil was holding himself, and just how he seemed to clutch at the papers Logan had given him like a lifeline so that he wouldn’t fall apart even more. 

Speaking of Logan though…

“I wanted to see this all for myself, and to see if Janus was right.” Remus didn’t know it was possible for Virgil to bristle even more at Janus’ name. “To be honest… It’s kind of weird to see that he’s right, I mean.. I didn’t think Janus was lying when he told me about it. But I was sure that he was exaggerating in how Logan treated him.” It perturbed him, which he hated, because nothing was supposed to perturb him. He wasn’t somebody who got perturbed by anything! He was Remus Sanders, he was the one who usually did the perturbing, so this.. this wasn’t at all fair. “With dearl old Logic like this it's very unsettling... even for someone like me.” 

For him it was almost impossible to not draw parallels to when it was him, Janus, and Virgil. And just like them, this felt all too similar to how Virgil was acting right before he left them, and as much as he liked to deny any sort of squishy feelings for the anxious side…

It was kind of hard for him to see it happening to Virgil in real time.

But be that as it may, “When it was you…” Virgil flinched, and even so Remus carried on. “There were plenty of warning signs that me and Janus missed and by the time that the point came around it was already too late to get you back.” 

Virgil glowered darkly at Remus, having a feeling that the creative side was trying to point him in some kind of way that he couldn’t exactly see just yet. He didn’t like the kind of game that Remus was attempting to play with him, he already didn’t have a lot of patience when it came to this side, and now with everything involving Logan he had even less of it now. A part of him just wanted to hear it straight up, without any kind of nostalgic twangs in Remus’ voice. But another part of him… Well the other part of him couldn’t help but to agree, he had given Janus and Remus plenty of signs that he was starting to grow tired and that he wanted out of what they were doing. And when they had missed them at every turn, as well as the light sides as well... 

He had simply decided to duck out, and save everyone the hassle of dealing with him in person. 

That little reminder did little to ease his ire though, “Just what are you trying to say?” He growled sharply, not liking this one little bit.

Virgil felt his stomach drop as soon as the smile curved onto Remus’ face like a knife.

“Simple,” The creative side said with a bout of fake cheer, “That you all had plenty of chances to help Logan before it got to this point. And just like me and Janus, you all failed miserably at doing anything worthwhile.” 

In an instant, Virgil rounded on Remus, his hands clenched into fists as a burning rage flooded his stomach and crawled up his throat. In that moment right then and there, he could have strangled Remus with his own stupid sash and he wouldn’t have felt bad for about it for a single second. His teeth bared themselves into a snarl, and without even thinking he took a step forward, almost talking himself into acting on the dark urge that made his hands want to move. 

Virgil was a little more than pissed, “What would you know about any of that?!” The words he had wanted to spit out, he ended up shouting instead. “What the hell would you know about helping someone?! What would you know about making things better?!” His voice shook the pictures on the wall, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care that the others could hear him, and he didn’t care about the weird look of guilt on Remus’ dumb face. The only thing he cared about was pounding his frustrations through Remus’ stupidly thick skull until he finally understood and got it for once. 

Since when had Remus ever cared about helping other people? Since when did he ever extend a thought that just wasn’t about himself, or making someone else’s day even worse? Since when did he care about anything that went beyond tormenting others with his weird thoughts, and the nightmares that he regularly gave to Thomas? Since when did Remus actually have single solitary thought that wasn’t going to hurt them in some kind of way?

As if reading his mind Remus extended his hand in an uncharacteristically placating manner, “Plenty.” He merely says, “Plenty…” Remus says, with a surprising amount of calmness. “I have regretted it every day of my life,” Here Virgil went still, the momentous amount of seriousness in Remus’ voice deserved that much at least. “I have always regretted that I didn’t do a single thing to stop you from leaving and even more that I didn’t help when you needed me to.” For a second he hesitated, delaying and deliberating on what he knew he was going to have to say next to Virgil. “And… I feel that this is also somewhat my doing too…” 

It wasn’t that he was scared, far from it. 

It was that… if he told Virgil what he knew and what he had done, that would be owning up to all of this. And that in some way all of the others could pin this on him, and not the fact that they too could have helped Logan not make the choices that he had made. 

“How?” Virgil tiredly asked, “How could it possibly be your fault? You just said that we didn’t pay enough attention to his warning signs. I know that you were a dick to him recently, but I don’t understand how this is your fault…” 

Remus’ fleshy insides softened at Virgil’s words, and at how much the anxious side seemed to want to absolve him of any kind of guilt. It was sickeningly sweet in his eyes, like Virgil knew he couldn’t absolve himself, so he could in the very least do it to Remus. 

But it needed to come out.  

He had to tell someone. 

So, taking in a steadying breath he went on. 

“I gave him the nudge,” He finally blurted out, he had never been one to keep secrets. So the truth had been pressing inside of him, like a stuffed animal full of too much stuffing. And upon seeing equally Virgil’s bewildered and shocked stare, and clearly not understanding what he was talking about. He went on before neither he or Virgil could stop himself from elaborating. “He was in the imagination after the fiasco of my plans had fucked everything up, he was angry, and sad, and just upset. I could tell that he was feeling a lot of things because clearly no one was listening to him, I.. I had ensured it when I ruined his schedule. And I had thought that he would just shrug the thought I gave him off, or he’d know that it was me…” Remus floundered for a moment, the taste of guilt strange on his tongue, “ I had only suggested that things couldn’t continue like they were, nothing else. But he…” 

But Logan had gone with it, and hadn’t stopped for a single second.

Then everything else had happened. 

He had not meant for the idea he had given Logan to get so out of hand, he was impressed, sure, that Logan was actually taken to it and was making the changes he wanted to see happen. And he was definitely impressed that he had broken under the weight of Virgil’s and the others’ woes certainly… but seeing Janus go numb on him, and seeing Virgil absolutely bawling his eyes out…

Seeing how Logan had reacted to Virgil of all people had made him so obviously apparent to the major flaw in what he had wanted to happen, he had thought, and hoped, that the others would apologize, change, and that Logan would go back to normal. 

He had thought that just once he had helped, but… 

“I don’t think that he’s going to stop anytime soon…” 

It was a lot harder than he had thought that it would be, and it was even harder to see it happening to people that he knew and cared about. 

Looking down at the anxious side he feared for just a moment that Virgil was going to explode on him again. That this time he’d actually lunge forward and wrap his hands around Remus’ throat, and choke the daylights out of him for causing all of this. He knew that Virgil had thought about it, hell every time he talked and caused trouble he could tell that it was something Virgil wanted to do to him.   

But Virgil had gone dead silent, the look on his face unreadable by Remus.  

“Help me fix this,” Virgil finally whispered, his body finally loosening as his fists unclenched, no longer full of murderous rage. “If you want so badly to help… then help me fix this.” After a second finally adding, “Please.”

That was something at least, no even more than that…

It was a start. 

A better start than he deserved.  

[delicioussshame]

[cries in fandom] I was supposed to work tonight and instead I wrote more of yesterday’s fic because I had the idea and couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

Shen Qingqiu isn’t an empty nester. He has plenty of disciples still running around the peak, eager to learn and keeping him very busy.

It’s just that the generation that was already there when he arrived, Ning Yingying, Ming Fan and the others, are now fully grown cultivators, spending most of their time roaming the world on their own quests.

They bring him pride each time they visit, usually gifting him with obscure artefacts and rare volumes he spends days pouring over. It doesn’t quite make up for their absence, but it helps.

Still, he would have preferred Ning Yingying gift him something else the last time she visited.

He, of course, knew she would eventually cross paths with Luo Binghe. She was bound to. After much pondering, he had decided not to interfere. Her occasional visits to Luo Binghe weren’t enough to hurt her cultivation, and anyway Luo Binghe was usually careful not to let Xin Mo gorge enough to leave traces, especially on trained cultivators. She’d be fine.

Plus, when Luo Binghe would tire of hiding in plain sight and reveal his status as leader of the Demon Realm, his fondness for her would protect her from the consequences Shen Qingqiu himself might face.

He would probably be fine though. He’d just have to take a less adversarial take than his predecessor, who had fought to the death to “protect his disciple from the beast”.

Or he’d thought he would, until Ning Yingying, with a blinding smile that radiated unblemished innocence, had told her she’d booked him a session with her A-Luo, because, to hear her say it, he needed it.

He had been tempted to expel her on sight. Don’t thrown Shen Qingqiu into the maws of the beast! He doesn’t have your youthful beauty or girlish charms!

He hadn’t. Ning Yingying is just too caring. She hadn’t realised that just because she very much enjoyed Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu might not feel the same. Wrong tree. Because if he were attracted to men, which he was not, what a ridiculous notion, he would have made a move himself. Luo Binghe is soft on his favorite clients. He’d have nothing to lose by endearing himself to him.

Too bad he’s not interested. He had to refuse him.

He’d thought he knew what to expect when he’d gone to reject the offer as politely as he could. It wouldn’t do to offend him.

Sadly, all the foreknowledge of the world hadn’t been quite enough to shield himself from his unnatural charisma. He’d made a fool of himself, practically running out to escape the protagonist’s aura. Luo Binghe, how terrifying! His poor disciple had stood no chance!

Anyway, he can admit he is occasionally lonely. He misses his dear Yingying and his first disciple, whom, for all his flaws, Shen Qingqiu had grown fond of. It wasn’t impossible for Ning Yingying to have noticed, and to have tried to offer him company. Totally misguided, but understandable.

When he hears a commotion outside, he instantly goes to check it out. Maybe it will break his monotony.

He immediately regrets it. Why, why on earth are Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge fighting with enough strength that they could easily kill his terrorised disciples here on his peak! It’s way too early for Luo Binghe to have come out of the demonic closet! And why is he even here!

Shen Qingqiu turns towards his closest disciple. “What is happening here.”

The poor girl jumps at his tone. “Shizun! I’m sorry, I’m not sure, we heard rumours that Luo Binghe was at the sect, so we were curious, but Liu-shishu showed up and it devolved into a fight. I don’t know why.”

Huh. So Liu Qingge made the first move? Quite possible. He might have wanted to protect his sister’s honor.

That should be manageable. He raises his voice. “Fighting on my peak isn’t allowed. Stop at this instant.”

To his surprise, both swords freeze.

Shen Qingqiu despairs for this world’s mob characters. How come no one wonders why a courtesan can keep up with Liu Qingge? Why can’t they notice how Xin Mo oozes with malevolence? Can they only see Luo Binghe’s fabulously handsome face and physique?

He wouldn’t be surprised.

“Shen Qingqiu! How dare you!”

Shen Qingqiu blinks. “How dare I what, Liu-shidi? I’m not the one who picked a fight on someone else’s peak.”

He points to Luo Binghe. “Him!”

Beside his general existence, there’s nothing especially offensive about Luo Binghe? “What about him?”

“I thought you’d outgrown such nonsense, but he shows up here!”

Shen Qingqiu has no idea what is happening. “I’m sorry if his presence offends you, but I assure you I have nothing to do with it.”

“I’m afraid that’s a lie,” says Luo Binghe as Liu Qingge seems close to death via outrage.

Shen Qingqiu turns toward Luo Binghe. “How could it be?”

In answer, Luo Binghe brandishes… the fan he’d completely forgotten when he’d visited, shit! Did he come here, on his peak, holding this incriminating evidence as a badge of honor!?

Shen Qingqiu feels himself blanch. How can he clear himself of these allegations? Liu Qingge thinks he’s trying to steal his sister’s man! Once the War God of Bai Zhen is done with Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu’s head is next!

Luo Binghe continues like he didn’t notice Shen Qingqiu’s obvious discomfort, which he must have. “You left this behind the other day, and so I have come to return it. Let it not be said I am not a perfect gentleman.”

Oh no. He can hear consternation from some of his pupils, and definitely less consternated exclamations from others.

Liu Qingge has now plunged on Luo Binghe again, who dodges with too much ease. How can no one notice something is wrong!

Maybe the renewed fight will distract everyone while Shen Qingqiu discretely dig himself a hole deep enough to never have to come out.

Oh well, there’s nothing he can tell but the truth. No one will believe it, but since no one ever believed Shen Qingqiu, how will it be any different? “Please stop this fight at once. Luo Binghe, I thank you for bringing my fan back to me despite my rude refusal of your services. It wasn’t your fault my student misconstrued my interests. Again, I am sorry for your wasted time. Liu-shidi, I understand your sister’s paramour might not be your favorite individual, but please don’t assault the sect’s guests. Think of our reputation. What will people say?”

Liu Qingge stares at him with… stupefaction? “You’re not his?”

Yeah, he’s nipping that train of thought in the bud. The last thing he needs is his disciples thinking he’s some pretty thing’s toy. They would never respect him again. “No. He’s not my type. No offense intended.”

Liu Qingge remains still for a moment, before he plucks the fan from Luo Binghe’s hand and shoves it toward Shen Qingqiu. “Keep track of your fans! There are two in my home!”

Ladies and gentlemen, Shen Qingqiu, a man being berated in public about his chronic tendency to forget things like an unruly child. “Why should I care when Shidi is always so eager to bring them back to me?”

Liu Qingge flushes in anger.

Shen Qingqiu gives himself a point.

_______________

Things were light-hearted before.

Now, Luo Binghe is serious.

Not only did Shen Qingqiu refuse his advance, but he implied Luo Binghe himself wasn’t good enough for him, in front of his whole peak, before ignoring him in favor of flirting with another man, right in his face?

Never has he suffered such humiliation.

He had intended to be kind. To soothe and seduce the man gently until following Luo Binghe to bed would seem like the only logical option.

He bets Shen Qingqiu would have paid him for the privilege, and paid him well, regardless of his disciple’s previous arrangements.

Now, those options are off the table. When Luo Binghe is done with him, pleasure will have robbed Shen Qingqiu of the last of his voice, and yet he’ll still be trying to beg him for more.

He’ll be ruined to anyone that’s not Luo Binghe; unable to live without his touch.

Anything less would be an unsurmountable affront.

Shen Qingqiu better prepares himself. The fight might have been lost, but Luo Binghe will be the one to win the war.

[linkspooky]

Mahito = True Human

A while back I sent an anon to @kaibutsushidousha​ asking if there was any deeper meaning to the Kanji in Mahito’s name. It turns out that his name has a lot of significance to his character and also his role in the story. I’ll be going over the symbolic meaning of his name below.  [Original post by [x], coloring by [x].]

To quote. 

Mahito’s name means “true human”. Even without getting to significance of this expression to Japanese and Chinese cultures, that’s already a bold and interesting name choice, seeing that, [...] he’s implied to be not a person, but some sort of incarnated curse, working together with curse spirits interested in becoming the new form of humanity. 

There’s a certain irony in Mahito’s name being read as  真人 “True Human” considering what we know of him he has an extremely low opinion of humans, and a high opinion of curses. In the latest fight against Yuji in the Shibuya arc, Mahito seems to be seeking to shed his more humanlike form like shedding his skin so he can become even more of what he considers to be a “true curse.” 

Mahito’s name means true human, and he is the most humanlike of all of the intelligent curses before him and yet he seems to want nothing to do with humanity, preferring to see himself as a curse instead. He even quite literally, as I mentioned above, sheds off his own skin in order to try and take what he assumes is his true form. 

Mahito’s name means true human and yet he doesn’t want to become humans. He always encourages the curses around him to act more like curses, acting illogical and on impulse. 

Mahito wants to become a “true curse” the most curselike of the curses. Rather than becoming human literally, they wanted to replace the humans entirely. Mahito is a human curse, created by the hatred spewed between humans and yet not only wants to destroy humans but is also the one most eager to destroy his reflection Itadori Yuji even though he claimed they were “the same person.” There’s a certain irony in naming Mahito “True Human” when he’s constantly trying to prove that he’s anything but human. 

But anyways, let’s get to what Asian traditions define as “true human”.

Starting off with Japanese history/Shintoism. In the year 684, Emperor Tenmu defined that the largest families in Japan needed to have rank attached to their family names as a way of easily expressing their social status. The eight social ranks defined by Emperor Tenmu, from the noblest to the most plebian were:

1 - Mahito (True humans) 2 - Ason (Courtiers) 3 - Sukune (Lords) 4 - Imiki (People from overseas, especially from China and Korea, who settled in early Japan and introduced Continental culture to the Japanese) 5 - Michinoshi (Artist and priest families) 6 - Omi (Retainers) 7 - Muraji (Families big and influential enough to earn a rank but not falling into any other category) 8 - Inagi (Families of regional officials responsible for rice storage)

The title of Mahito was granted only to families descended from Emperors themselves or imperial princes. Basically, only those of royal blood could be called “true humans”.

The connection to Asian traditions is clear in Mahito’s naming. Mahito is the closest thing possible to curse royalty among the curse family. He was the one set up to take leadership of the rest of the curses even after Jogo, Hanami and Dagon passed. 

Mahito is also, a curse that’s been paralleled to Sukuna the so called “king of curses” several times. Mahito even presumes that they’re something like rivals. It’s probably no coincidence that lords were known as “Sukune”.

The irony of naming Mahito true human also repeats again. Mahito wants to prove he’s the most “Pureblooded” of the curses by constantly exaggerating his own curse nature, hating, and spiting others for no reason. However, he’s the most humanlike instead. Mahito is said to serve out the purpose as a mirror to humanity. “Death is a mirror for humans”, he said that in the sense that people become more self-reflective when facing death, and also the idea of mortality for humans tends to make people more eager to define who they are.

 We see are lives in sharp relief and are constantly trying to define ourselves, because we have to face death. Mahito is much like that. He’s made up of human fears. Human insecurities. Human hate. The fear of other people. However, that makes him a mirror because he shows humans their own flaws. In other words Mahito regards himself as a pure blooded curse and nothing more, but Mahito more than any of the curses reflects humanity. It’s even what he does to Yuji. When Mahito and Yuji fight he tries to force the others into self reflection. 

All of Mahito’s negative qualities, those are human qualities too. Mahito hates humans, but humans also despise each other. Mahito acts like a coward, but there are plenty of people who are cowards. Mahito is reflecting the worst traits of humanity and bringing them face to face, and thus acting like a mirror. We even see Mahito acting like a mirror. When he kills Nanami, in the few moments before Nanami dies, he doesn’t see Mahito standing right in front of him. 

He sees Haibara. When looking at Mahito, he saw his old dead friend. Mahito was serving as a mirror for what Nanami’s thoughts at the time. No matter what Mahito strives to become as a true curse, he’ll always be a reflection of humanity because he was created by human feelings, and human projections. 

Which is probably why Mahito strives to transform himself and find his true form in the first place, because he is as of right now, just a monster stitched together of other human beings with no true form, and no true purpose. 

Next up, let’s talk about Taoism. The main gist of Taoism is that some people are randomly born with sacral bones in their skeletons. Sacral bones can sometimes run in the family, but can also occur in random people with no taoist heritage, regardless of class. Peole with sacral bones can seclude themselves taoist communities in isolated mountains or islands, becoming Taoists, the students of Xian arts. Xian is a title granted to a Taoist who completed their studies, turning immortal in the process.

In Taoism, Yuanshi Tianzun is the greatest being in all universe, with the Xians who serve Yuanshi Tianzun being considered good, and the Xians who oppose him being considered evil. Zhenren (”true human” in Chinese) is the name granted to the greatest Xian wizards serving under Yuanshi Tianzun. The Xians chosen as Zhenrens are people who transcended the everyday world, and reached the peak of the Tao arts.

One Taoist named Zhuang Zi made immense contribution to making the Taoist knowledge widespread by writing a book also named Zhuang Zi. In his self-title book, Zhuang Zi defines a “true human” as person who mastered the Tao’s ideals, or more specifically, “a person who meekly obeys the heaven’s decree, accepts everything as natural, lets go of all prejudice and confrontationism, and lives under the taoist mindset that all things are of equal value”.

The process of Sacral bones resembles Jujutsu Sorcerery technique heritage a lot, but besides that there’s a lot of resemblance between Tao’s ideals and Mahito’s own ideals. Specifically about the equality of life. 

Mahito seeslife as something without necessary meaning or value. Life simply circles. The life of a butterfly or an ant is just as important as the life of a human being. In a world where everything is just trying to survive and live to the next today, it might just be human folly to assume we’re somehow outside of the food chain of the planet we share with all other life.  You could take “All life is equal” to mean two things, all life is equally precious, or all life is equally worthless. Guess which one Mahito takes. 

A taoist accepts everything as natural, and Mahito seems to submit himself to natural law. He calls the three curse spirits which are basically just nature spirits to be his closest friends. Jogo, Hanami, Dagon, they’re all just representative of the naural world around them. 

Mahito also describes life as just one more facet of nature. 

All life is equal. All life is the same. All life is equally worthless. A wolf killing a rabbit isn’t cruel. If the wolf doesn’t kill the rabbit they’ll starve. If the rabbit escapes they’ll live to the next day. If it doesn’t the wolf does. Everything in this world is just trying to live - which is why Mahito doesn’t see the battle between curses and humans as a battle between good and evil.  Curses are trying to replace humans, so they can live freely in the world the same way humans do.

It’s a battle for survival. There’s no good or evil between the wolf and the rabbit, both of them are just fighting each other in order to survive. However, if Mahito really wants to follow natural laws that means he’s also a part of the same nature. 

There’s a flaw in Mahito’s thinking. He decries humans for being self important, and reasoning that they’re somehow more worthy of life than other animals or even curses. Mahito believes that if he’s stronger than Yuji, he should have the right to kill him in order so that he can live. However, Mahito doesn’t handle it very well when he’s on the other side. Might makes right, is a logic that means whenever you’re stronger, what you think is the right thing. However, what most don’t consider is that if you’re weak it also means you have to submit to somebody else. 

Mahito never even considered the idea that he might be the prey. His logic is all might makes right, the stronger person has to live, but he also assumed he’d be the stronger one. When it turns out he’s weaker, and he’s the one whose about to die, he ends up running for his life. Despite basically justifying himself and doing whatever he wanted when he was on top, he can’t handle being at the bottom of the food chain, he can’t submit to being weak. Which is why we see his sudden panic when he realizes he’s the prey this time. This is also, something that contradicts what Jogo says. 

Curses do not fear death. However, Mahito does. Which means in this moment as he’s running away, Mahito is acting more like a human than a curse. He assumed his life was more important in the grand scheme of things, just like humans have a tendency to do, and doesn’t want to be eaten like a rabbit so Yuji can survive to the next day. 

Last but not least, Buddhism defines “true human” as a person who opened their eyes to the Truth and perfected their personhood. Both Buddhas and Arhats qualify as “true humans” by that definition. Gojou is another character with heavy Buddhist motifs on his name...

This could be a connection with two ideas in Mahito’s character. Number one, he’s always trying to perfect himself and lift himself up to the highest level possible. His Domain is even called “Self Embodiment of Perfection.” You get the sense that in tinkering with others, distorting the shape and form of others he’s trying to find the true perfect shape of himself. 

The second is his connection to Gojo. This is also just a theory as we don’t know exactly what the six-eyes do, but it’s heavily suggested that both Mahito and Gojo are able to see both the “soul” something that is impossible for all other curses and jujutsu sorcerers to do. 

Mahito’s able to see the soul most likely just because of what he is, a reflection of humans, and how his cursed technique resolves around warping the shape of the soul in order to change the body. Gojo is at least able to see Geto’s cursed energy with his six eyes, when he’s replaced by Getwo. The two of them have special insight to the soul that no other characters have thus they are “true seeing” in a budhist sense. They are also both characters trying to perfect their personhood, Gojo is the ideal jujutsu sorcerer and Mahito longs to be the ideal curse. 

So, there’s a lot of connections to asian traditions present in naming Mahito “True Human”, but there’s also a lot of ironies too. Mahito as always is a walking contradiction, and that quality of his is what makes him all the more human. 

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Do you find Moonshadow culture becoming a little less... likeable? (but not less interesting) It seems like they hand out Ghostings like candy with no path to forgiveness and no belief in a person’s ability to change and reform themselves. The pressure and anxiety those elves must be feeling at all times has got to astronomical. What are your thoughts?

I have plenty of thoughts, as always! Less likeable than what, though, anon? Maybe you’ve missed most of my posts on Moonshadow society over the last year...

Moonshadow society is a disaster, poor thing. It’s a tightlaced corset, pretty but restrictive with long term consequences. It’s a queer neurodivergent elf who just wants to do their very best but all the rules that are supposed to help them out with that end up hurting them too and they don’t know how to stop or change and so yes they’re dancing gracefully in the moonlight and yes they express themselves through beauty but if you get close enough you can hear the constant pterodactyl screech of their soul too. (Did I extrapolate extra hard from “Runaan is the most Moonshadow of the Moonshadow elves”, maybe yes)

Moonshadow society is deeply flawed and it needs help, but it’s so big and pervasive that it may be impossible to change its course without severe consequences, just like last time (aka moving east across the border and becoming assassins that took out humans). The elves can only do so much to alter their own fates from inside their own society.

Some may leave and never return. Some get ghosted and want nothing more than to re-enter the fold because they still believe in its ideals, like Feathershawl. Some probably try to change things from the inside, whether subtly or obviously. And others embrace the rules with both arms and try to mold themselves into The Perfect Moonshadow Who Can Do No Wrong, in order to remain safe and to belong.

But that’s a spectrum you’re going to get when perfectionism is a big part of your cultural philosophy. Everything has to be Just So for so many aspects of these elves’ lives, and it’s Very Not Good for them. Yes, they’re pretty. But mandating prettiness is just as bad as mandating other aspects of personal choice and free will.

As for ghosting, I really don’t think Moonshadows just yeet those left and right with little care for the consequences. I do think they’re too harsh with their shunning! Shunning, giving up, turning their back in a relatively permanent way, that’s not a good solution. Learning and adapting are important, and knowing that you have time and room to practice and adjust is so important for mental health and stability in your society. Living in constant fear of minding the rules or getting even perceived to be doing something incorrectly is such a drain on your energy.

But I do think that the Moonshadows have strict rules for what deserves ghosting and what doesn’t, just as they do for other stuff. The details of Feathershawl’s ghosting are theirs to keep, and I assume any Narrator could flesh those out however they chose during a playtest, whether to make their situation more or less sympathetic for the players.

But my take is this: Moonshadow elves revere life very deeply, and they work constantly to serve each other and their whole community, as they hold themselves together and celebrate their continued existence on every level they can. When someone in a position of big responsibility for the health, well-being, and lives of so many Moonshadow citizens messes up in such a bad way that there’s a plague and lots of elves die--lose their precious lives, lose those connections with others, leave their families torn and distraught and unable to focus on their own duties due to heavy, soul-sucking grief--when one elf causes this level of arcanum-deep catastrophe, I can absolutely see why the other Moonshadow elders would be horrified and grief-stricken, and furious. It’s a very un-Moonshadow thing to have happen, especially with how hard they’re all trying to be so very Moonshadow all the time.

Feathershawl had a position that gave them authority over the food sources that kept a good number of the Forest’s elves fed and able to live their lives without privation. And they screwed that up somehow. They were trusted with a basic staple of everyday life--food--and they got it wrong in such a horrible way that there are a lot fewer Moonshadow elves as a result.

Moonshadow elves need each other’s support and presence as part of their communal network, and anything that tears at that fabric goes against everything that Moonshadow philosophy stands for. Feathershawl themself had literally dozens of family members, whose illusions were kept in their crystal. That’s a lot of family! If it’s common for Moonshadow elves to have that many family members, then a plague would probably touch every family multiple times and leave everyone multiply devastated. It’s just Bad All Around.

There’s probably a lot more to Rayla’s ghosting than we know, since we only learned of it from her POV and she’s not in the habit of sharing Moonshadow secrets with Callum just yet. Knowing that Moonshadow families are so thickly intertwined, and how heavily they rely on each other to help support and cheer each other through standing strong together and mutual services, it’s no big stretch to imagine that Rayla’s biggest crime in Moonshadow eyes wasn’t her supposed running away, it was that her actions cost the Silvergrove their assassin leader, one of their elders and one of the strongest moral guiding hands they had. Rayla cost the Silvergrove their most Moonshadow Moonshadow.

Without Runaan, the Silvergrove is probably reeling quite a bit, and Rayla’s failure is to blame, in their eyes. They’re all suffering, and they need to put the blame somewhere--other than themselves--so they can start to move forward again.

It’s far from ideal. It’s very shame and blame oriented. But it does hold to some internal logic that seems to bear out through the three ghostings we know of for sure so far.

Another things Moonshadows are very good at is quick action. The moment they think there’s been a “mistake”, they move to address it. Whatever feelings they have on the matter, they process it in half a second (if at all) and jump straight to rectification. You attack the Storm Spire? Lain’s gonna kick you down the stairs. You think the Silvergrove ghosted you unfairly? You literally run to Ethari for help. You see Rayla trying to stay on the mission? You grab her wrists so she can’t draw her weapons. You see your workshop doors open but no one’s there? You stop working and fetch a hammer in case you need to smash a vindictive ghost. You think your friends failed their duty and dishonored you? You take everyone you can to go uphold that honor, including a 15 year old girl. (Holy cats does that mean everyone on Runaan’s squad was family, oh god) Swift action is a reassertion of the rules, of what’s right, so no one forgets. That’s got to include ghosting for things that are really terrible.

What I do find interesting is that Eljaal, the homesick assassin who is afraid to return home, may not be worried about ghosting specifically? But it’s a little unclear. I think there is something else they fear, perhaps a lesser punishment? But still one they can’t yet bring themself to face, poor elf.

I do think Moonshadow society is very stressful on the mind, and all these elves have become very skilled at hiding, mitigating, and otherwise working around their stresses and traumas. The greatest illusion that Moonshadows play is the one that Everything Is Fine, because there is always more work to do, and they keep telling themselves that they’re the ones who must do it, for everyone elses’s sakes. Laziness and selfishness are probably the same thing to Moonshadows. Hmm, maybe that’s why Runaan lets his family drag him off to picnics on his birthday, so he doesn’t seem selfish for wanting alone time.

In very very long, anon, Moonshadows are a Mess tee emm, and they’ve been designed that way from the start: doing their best inside a flawed system. This is the heart of their imperfection. They will probably benefit from spending time with literally anyone else aside from just themselves. They really really need to get out more, or to let someone else in, because the strictest of their own traditions are actually ruining the life and beauty they work so hard to celebrate.

[mittelfrank-divas]

Dance of the Black Heron chapter 2

The next chapter of my Dancer Hubert fic! In which the other Black Eagles have opinions on this situation.

This fic is now up on AO3 for those who prefer reading there!

===

"I think it's a fine idea." Edelgard rounded one of the long tables in the Black Eagles classroom, carrying a stack of tactics textbooks. It was quickly growing dark outside, and every other student had long ago vacated the classrooms, but the pair of them were often found here at this hour by the flickering light of the candles and the dwindling embers of the fireplace.

At first, tidying the classroom had been an easy excuse for them to meet at night without suspicion. It was a perfectly appropriate activity for the head of the class and her attendant to engage in regularly outside of normal class hours, with obvious evidence of their work that they could point to the next morning if anybody asked where they had been.

Now, although better awareness of the guard rotations and lesser-used passages gave them plenty of other ways to slip out after dark, habit still found them here day after day. Hubert could not help but notice the pride that Edelgard took in maintaining the Black Eagles classroom, making sure the chairs were straightened and every student had their required materials ready in the morning. It did not matter that their classmates could easily retrieve their books and quills themselves, or that the room would be equally serviceable if the chairs were left slightly askew or that the floor could endure going unswept for a few days. Edelgard wanted the classroom to be perfect for her Eagles, and so Hubert was all too happy to assist her in that.

He automatically held out his arms for her to deposit the books into and began distributing them before each chair on one side of the room while Edelgard began passing out her own stack on the other side. He scowled down at the books in his arms as he sought out the one with the broken binding, which he always deliberately placed in front of Ferdinand's chair. "I did not expect you to share in our professor's folly."

"I see no folly in it." Edelgard was not quite so deliberate in her distribution, placing each of her own books without checking its state. Hubert doubted that any of the other Black Eagles noticed that the left side of the classroom always received the same books each day (the nicest one went to Bernadetta and their state of decay decreased down to Ferdinand's) while the right side was randomized, with each equally likely to receive the one wrinkled with water stains on one corner. Her egalitarian approach meant she always finished sooner than Hubert, and so she was first to move behind the professor's desk to retrieve the quills and ink pots. "I know you know how to dance, Hubert. I have seen you do it many times."

"Respectfully," Hubert grumbled, "our little bedroom waltzes hardly compare to a competition that will determine the composition of our class. You have seen me run before, but you would not ask me to participate in a marathon."

"Nonsense." Edelgard turned to him, a pot of ink in each hand. "That comparison would only be suitable if I had watched you outrun the entirety of our class. You are good at dancing. You have proper stance, you keep time well..."

"Lady Edelgard," Hubert set his final book down and met her eyes directly. "Did you convince the professor to choose me?"

Edelgard's pale eyebrows rose. "You are cross with me. No, I did not. I merely advised them that you would be a good choice. They were already considering you."

"I am not cross with you, I am…" Hubert sighed, and slouched down to rest his gloved hands on the table. "Alright. I am cross. I wish you'd consulted with me before agreeing to this."

Edelgard never cowered from anger -- his, or any other's. It was one of the many traits that made him admire her. Her pale lavender eyes met his fully. "I apologize. I thought it best if you heard directly from our professor first. It is not as though they can force the decision upon you, after all, can they?"

"No," Hubert admitted with a sigh, finally moving to retrieve the quills and ink alongside her. "They merely trapped me in my own logic. Forced me to admit that I can see no better option."

"Well?" She flicked her white hair back out of her eyes as she shot him a sidelong glance. "Is your logic flawed? Is there any other who we should choose instead?"

Hubert had been asking himself that very question since the moment he exited the professor's room. Dare he give up their only cavalry unit? Their only assassin? Could he ignore his own predictions that Linhardt would shirk whatever responsibility the role would demand of him? "I am beginning to question whether we require a Dancer in our ranks at all."

"Well then, I am certain that Claude von Riegan will make good use of it," Edelgard said crisply as she laid out quills.

Claude von Riegan. Claude von Riegan with somebody under his command who could effectively double the speed of any attacking unit. Hubert could already imagine a number of scenarios that Claude could manifest with such power in his hands, but worse were the ones that he could not imagine.

"Your attempts to bait me are rather transparent, I'm afraid." Even as he said it, Hubert attempted to shrug off the vision of the future Alliance leader darting out of their peripherals, bow at ready.

"A pity," Edelgard sighed, moving toward the professor's desk. She always made a point of organizing their notoriously scatterbrained teacher's class materials at the end of the day. "I had hoped I was being subtle. Transparent though I may be, however, do tell me if my plan has worked."

Hubert prided himself on his schemes, on his ability to out-think his opponents. Unfortunately, the fact that he had honed his skill by practicing with his closest friend meant that same friend knew him all too well, and easily turned those same skills back on him. "Of course it has," he conceded, and moved to stand in front of the professor's desk while Edelgard sat down in the chair across from him. "You know I cannot bear the thought of giving such a calculating opponent an edge such as this. Well spotted as ever, Lady Edelgard."

She pulled a stack of Byleth's disorganized notes to herself, a small smile creeping onto her face at her victory. Under normal circumstances, Hubert lived to see that smile soften her carefully-managed features. In this case, it was difficult to take joy in one more sign that his doom was sealed. Nevertheless, she nodded at him. "Alright, then. If our only goal is simply to keep the Dancer class out of anyone else's hands, the solution is simple. We send someone else to compete in the White Heron Cup, but we will not make use of the certification once we have it."

Hubert crossed his arms, considering her suggestion. It was an easy way out. They could send Dorothea or even Ferdinand to compete without interfering with their long-term plans. Edelgard was showing him a kindness by offering an alternative. The fact that he recognized it for a kindness made loathing for himself churn in the pit of his stomach. For her to settle on a lesser choice simply for his sake was intolerable. "An elegant solution, but a wasteful one. I doubt you would be satisfied with such a plan."

Edelgard sighed. "Of course I wouldn't be. I think a Dancer would be of great benefit to us, and I think you would be an ideal choice."

Hubert shook his head, leaning down to press both hands against the front of the desk. "I simply fail to understand why."

"It is just as you and the professor said. The Dancer must be able to anticipate the movements of the battlefield and turn it to their advantage. When I am at the front of the line, I want someone who knows my tactics and my plans, who can predict exactly what choices I will make, to be at my back setting the stage. It's true that anyone in our class could do the job adequately, but only you could use such a position to seamlessly carry out my plans." Edelgard leaned across the desk, her hand closing around Hubert's wrist, her pale eyes meeting his fiercely. "I would never order you down a path that you found intolerable, Hubert. If this is truly unbearable for you, then we will find another solution. I just wish you could see how much I think you would shine in such a role."

She truly had so much faith in him. Not just to be a Dancer, but to be her Dancer. Someone who could help her achieve her lofty goals. Maybe, if he actually could succeed in winning the certification…

Hubert's hand went to his head, pushing his black hair out of his eyes. "This is foolishness. It is not a test of skill, but of charm. You know that I could manage to hit every step perfectly and the judges will still favor whoever has the most attractive smile."

Edelgard's eyes glinted confidently. "And is that such a bad thing? You know as well as I that charm is a matter of manipulating perceptions." She leaned forward, using her grip on Hubert's arm to pull herself across the desk. At her height, Edelgard practically had to lay across the expanse of the wood surface to lean close to him, but she somehow managed it. "Hubert," she said lowly so none passing by the open door could hear, "when we constructed the Flame Emperor together, remember what you said? That we must create an image that strikes awe into the hearts of all who see him. It will not be you dancing out there. It will be the image we create for you. So let us create that image. Will you permit that?"

An image. A persona, like the Flame Emperor. Hubert could not imagine himself standing before the entire school, hoping to convince them of his appeal with a charisma he did not possess. But thinking of it as simply another mask…

His other hand closed over hers. "If you are behind me, I can try."

***

The evening was still early when he found his way to the ground-level dorms. Light glowed warmly from the open doors and windows of the cafeteria, chatter and laughter filtering down the stone staircase. It was a crisp fall evening, not yet cold enough to keep the students from lingering around the fishing pond or drifting slowly toward their dorms while carrying on their dinner conversations, trying to delay the night of studying ahead. It would not be, therefore, considered terribly untoward for Hubert to be standing outside of Dorothea's chambers at this time. He took a moment to steel himself before knocking sharply on her door.

He highly doubted that he was remotely within the sphere of people who Dorothea hoped would be standing on the other side of her door, yet her smile was dazzling anyway. The songstress knew how to perform even in the most mundane of venues. "Hubie! It's not like you to make social calls. Are you here to scold me for forgetting to use Edie's title again? Or is this about that saucy joke I made yesterday? Was that too much for her delicate royal ears to hear?"

Hubert stifled a sigh, already regretting this conversation. Dorothea's personality was entirely too much for him to face directly like this. Her irreverence around Lady Edelgard had been a point of contention in their first few weeks at the academy, but Edelgard herself enjoyed Dorothea's brash attitude and had told him to let it go. Truth be told, Hubert also took a certain amount of pleasure in watching a commoner breezily ignore social mores the way that Dorothea did, pointedly affixing his fellow nobles with all-too-personal nicknames rather than a deferential title. But it was a spectacle that he preferred to appreciate at a distance, without the full force of the songstress's energy and wit directed at him.

"Nothing so serious as that, I assure you." Hubert stiffly folded his hands behind his back, sifting through his mental notes to recall exactly how he had rehearsed this conversation. Unfortunately Dorothea's chaotic nature had already derailed his plans, leaving him to leaf frantically through his script to work out what to say next. The sound of laughter echoing across the square made him uncomfortably aware of the other students and monastery residents moving around behind him. "I thought perhaps that you should hear it first. The professor has chosen our candidate for the White Heron Cup."

He saw her smile falter a bit, and knew that she was doing the math. If Byleth had chosen her, then surely Byleth would be the one to deliver the news. Still, her voice remained as bright as ever. "Really? That's great news! Who is it?"

Hubert could not stand to look at that fading smile anymore, and his eyes found a particularly fascinating crack in the wall by her door. "You should know that this was not at all an easy choice. It was less a matter of who could succeed in the competition than of who we could afford to remove from another role. The composition of our class is..."

"Hubie," all warmth had drained from her voice now, replaced with a dangerous edge. "If you've come all this way just to soothe my feelings over Ferdie being chosen over me, you can just get it over with."

The very suggestion that Hubert would ever choose Ferdinand von Aegir shocked him into looking at her again. "We need Ferdinand on his horse, loathe as I am to admit that. Just as we need you continuing to study both Reason and Faith, a combination that we otherwise lack." He shifted awkwardly, resisting the urge to either fidget or flee. "I have been over the class roster many times, and unfortunately I see no other way around it. The professor is of the opinion that the only one who can be spared for this role is myself."

A single laugh burst out of Dorothea's mouth before she covered it with both hands. "Oh Hubie! Oh I'm sorry, it's not funny. It's just unexpected."

"I am quite aware of how unexpected it is," Hubert muttered, once again taking tremendous interest in the details of the wall beside her. "Which is precisely why I must request your assistance. There can be no doubt that you are our most gifted dancer. Moreover, you have experience with performing before an audience. I wish to ask for your help in preparing for this competition."

Dorothea stared up at him, cautious skepticism on her face. She did not trust nobles, and he shared in her loathing. Hubert himself nearly forgot sometimes that he would be considered one of them in her eyes. Dorothea may have acted cheerful around her classmates, but Hubert had seen the way she sometimes seemed to be bracing for them to turn on her. She looked like she was bracing for that now. "I'm sorry, did you say you need my help? You, Hubie, need my help."

"That is what I said, yes."

Dorothea snorted. "I'm surprised you aren't asking Ferdie, since he seems so very convinced of his superiority in every realm, including dance."

"I do not entertain that one's foolish ramblings." Hubert smirked as he said it, and was pleased that a smile crept back onto Dorothea's own face. She made clear her feelings on Ferdinand -- loudly, and as often as possible -- and it seemed that he won an ally in her on this front. "As much as it pains me to admit my own failings, I know that you are much more practiced in this arena than myself. If you are willing to assist me in this, I would be grateful."

She granted him that warm smile that she shared so freely with her classmates. "Well with a request like that, how can I refuse? Alright, Hubie. How about we meet on the training grounds tonight?"

Hubert felt his heart rate spike just at the thought of being caught practicing in such a public area. The training grounds were less crowded in the evenings, but there were many students who remained there even late into the night. There would be no hope of privacy in such a place. "Actually, I have somewhere more private in mind, if you'll allow. I'll meet you here at your room after class tomorrow and show you the way."

Her smile twisted itself into a sly grin. "Why Hubie, if you wanted to get me alone, a simple dinner invitation would have sufficed."

Now he did sigh. Truly, she was relentless. "I assure you, I have no such intentions. But if this is your way of requesting an exchange for your services, I will see what I can do about a meal."

"No fun at all," Dorothea sighed back, though he could see that she was still teasing him rather than truly disappointed. "Forget it, then. I'll see you tomorrow."

Dorothea closed the door, leaving Hubert standing awkwardly outside. He had the rest of the night ahead of him to fret over what awaited him at Dorothea's lessons.

***

Hubert had never before dreaded class. In fact, against all reason, he even sometimes enjoyed it.

That had been an unexpected development. That Hubert would accompany Edelgard to Garreg Mach, the very seat of the Church of Seiros, that he would attend classes alongside the frivolous sons and daughters of nobility, that he would sit in front of some church-approved professor and listen to their tiresome lectures… and he would not hate it. Sometimes he even learned something. Sometimes he even forgot that he was here under false pretenses, that he was only pretending to be a student in order to further Edelgard's aims.

But class had never before felt like such a trap. Never had he so cursed Edelgard's preference for sitting in the very front row, as well as his own decision to accompany her there. Hubert felt that every single pair of eyes in the room must have been on the back of his head. Surely such a thought was irrational, since only Edelgard and Dorothea yet had reason to suspect his distraction when he failed to turn his tactics textbook to the correct page.

Worse, their distractible professor left Hubert to suffer in silence through the entire lecture, carrying on as though his humiliation was not imminent. It was only when Byleth was about to dismiss them for lunch, threatening to draw out the torture even further, that Edelgard came to his rescue. "Professor, I believe you had intended to make an announcement."

Byleth paused, blinking at Edelgard in that dreamy way they always did when they forgot vital information, such as their own plans. "Oh, yes. We've chosen our candidate for the White Heron Cup."

A general murmur of excitement rippled through the classroom. Hubert pointedly closed his book and began organizing his things, trying very hard to ignore the chatter behind him.

"You were wanting to be choosing, weren't you Ferdinand?"

"I assure you, I know nothing about the professor's choice. If they have selected me, this is the first I am hearing of it."

"It's not me, right? You wouldn't pick me just to make fun of me, would you? Oh no! You have, haven't you? Aaaaaaah I don't want to do iiiiiiiiit!"

"Finally!" Caspar's voice rang out over Bernadetta's cries. "Who'd you pick, professor? We've got so many good dancers here, I bet we'll win no matter what!"

Byleth did not waste time on drawing out the suspense with theatrics. "I've chosen Hubert."

The din faded to uneasy silence. Of all the times that Edelgard had urged the Black Eagles to learn the art of being quiet, somehow this was the moment in which the lesson finally took.

"I don't think he's a bad choice at all." Dorothea jumped in to helpfully damn Hubert with faint praise.

"Indeed, if the strategy is to frighten the judges into choosing our house, you could not ask for a better candidate." Linhardt, naturally, chose to wake up from his nap exclusively for the purpose of contributing this jab.

Having run out of anything left to do with his own class materials, Hubert moved on to straightening Edelgard's notes for her. Might as well let his classmates get this out of their system so they could hopefully never speak of this again.

"Hubert's not going to assassinate the judges, is he? Noooo I can't be an accessory to murder!"

"Bernie, nobody's going to assassinate anyone."

"Is this being a contest of violence? I thought it was of dance."

"No, there's no violence. Bernie's just being dramatic."

"Imagine if it was though? Like what if we had to fistfight Alois to win? That would be awesome!"

"But I don't want to fistfight Alois!"

"Bernie, absolutely nobody is asking you to fistfight Alois."

"Well I trust in our professor's decisions." A single voice boomed above all the others. Caspar may have existed in a perpetual state of yelling, but Ferdinand von Aegir projected his voice at all times as though he was in the midst of orating to a crowd. "I am certain that they have good reason to choose Hubert to represent the Black Eagles house, and we should be proud to support him. Why, regardless of whether or not he's had training, with a few weeks, he should--"

"I have, actually." Hubert was already out of his chair and turning to face Ferdinand before his nerves had a chance to catch up with him. The ginger with his all-too-bright smile was staring at Hubert, startled at being interrupted mid-speech. "Which is something you might already know if you ever deigned to dance with those you consider beneath your status, Ferdinand."

Ferdinand's mouth hung agape, his ears turning a satisfying shade of scarlet. "What is that supposed to--"

"Alright!" Edelgard stood, inserting herself between them as she stepped into the center of the classroom. "Honestly, is this any way to behave before a competition? We are supposed to present a united front before the other houses. I expect all of you to give Hubert your full support, just as you would any one of us."

Hubert made a point of avoiding any further eye contact as he exited the classroom. With resounding support such as this from his own class, did he even need rivals to compete with? Perhaps they might send one of Bernadetta's plush toys to compete and save him the trouble.

[ordinaryschmuck]

Why I (Want To) Love Amphibia

Salutations random people on the internet who probably won't read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons. If you've been paying attention to my posts, you would have known that I made a top twenty list of the best-animated series of the 2010s. And if you read my Honorable Mentions list, you would have known that I consider Amphibia one of those shows that, while I like it, I wouldn't go so far as to say that it's one of the best. Don't get me wrong. It's good. But there are issues that I have with Amphibia, and I can't recommend it without being hesitant. I still like it fine, but I doubt some people will be as forgiving as me. So I'm going to explain the quality and faults that the show has, while still being considerate to those who do love it. Because unlike some people who would make a two-hour-long video essay about how much they hate something, I can at least acknowledge that while something doesn't entirely work for me, that doesn't mean it won't work for everyone else. Because there is a reason why this show has such a following...I don't think it's earned, but I won't knock people down when they love something I find passable. And I hope that respect goes both ways as I explain why I (want to) love Amphibia.

Also, this review is going to contain spoilers for the entire series. So if you haven't checked it out yet, I recommend you do it to form your own opinion. Season one is on Disney+, and you're on your own for season two. And I suggest you find a legal way to watch it if you can, because I'm not going to leave a link to a pirating website filled with every animated series and movie you can find. And I'm definitely not going to insert that link into a random letter in this review with the thought that if you have to pirate something, then you might as well work for it. Because that would be crazy.

...

Stop being crazy.

....

Anywho, let's start with:

WHAT I LIKE

The Comedy: Let it be known that this show is funny. Like, really funny. I wouldn't go so far as to say that it's funnier than Gravity Falls, which got me chuckling with every episode, but Amphibia definitely hits more than it misses. There are occasions when the jokes aren't really character-oriented and could be said by anybody in the Plantar Family, but if they're still funny, then who am I to complain. Although there is one issue that I have with the comedy. But I'll save that for when I talk about what I don't like. For now, I can assure you that if you're hoping for some laughs, Amphibia has plenty to offer.

Warnings Against Toxic Relationships: But even the best comedies know when to offer some substance. Because I won't lie, when Anne described what is clearly a toxic friendship in the second episode, I was hooked. I love it when kids shows breach topics that can be important for children down the line. And for the most part, I think Amphibia does it well. There are so many instances that the writers' point out the several red flags that a person should avoid when it comes to a friendship and when it's time to either cut that person from your life and stand up for yourself. One of my favorite episodes is "Prison Break," where Sasha explains how she manipulates people and shows zero remorse for it. Then there's the episode "The Sleepover to End All Sleepovers" that shows how a person's influence can affect others and how much it changes perception as Anne and Marcy still believe they need someone like Sasha in their lives...At least I hope that's what the intention is. Because if the writers are trying to say that Anne and Marcy really need someone like Sasha...Well, I'll save that for my dislikes. Because even though it could use a little polishing, warning kids about toxic relationships is what keeps me hooked into seeing what happens next in this series.

It’s Not Afraid to go Dark: On top of breaking borders with morals intended for kids, I just gotta respect a show for playing around with what's considered "too dark." Especially if that show is on the Disney Channel!

The writers are not afraid to imply that death happens in the world of Amphibia, primarily because it is like a swamp ecosystem filled with predators and food chains. And I feel like because the characters are mostly amphibians, the writers can get away with an entire cave filled with the bones of victims as long as they're not humans. But frogs? No one gives a crap about them. There's a reason they're the ones who get dissected in schools.

Plus, a good majority of the monsters that Anne and the Plantars face are pretty horrifying at times. The crew who work on the show do a great job balancing the line of making these creatures look scary, but never go too far that they'll scar kids for life. Except in the Halloween special...How the f**k did they get away with the monsters in the Halloween special? And while they don't ever show what these monsters do, the implications honestly make things much worse, which again, I kind of respect. It's good to have shows like Amphibia that can scare kids a little bit. Getting through something fictitiously dark helps make kids feel braver and prepare them for the real horrors in the world. Especially since most of these creatures are just exaggerated versions of real-life predators...google them.

The Season One Finale: It was "Reunion" that made me realize that Amphibia has the potential to be amazing...it's also the last episode of season one, so let that sink in.

Joking aside, I honestly do love this episode. It's funny, it brings in elements from other episodes, nearly everybody does something useful, and it all ends with a satisfying and equally gut-wrenching climax. A climax, by the way, that is so perfect that I'm going to do a scene breakdown for why it's so good...so, you know, add that to the to-do list (I have so much s**t to make -_-). "Reunion" has so many elements about what makes a season finale so good that I feel like future writers should take notes for their own series that they plan to make. While I wish every episode of Amphibia had this level of quality, the writers know that the last impression is one of the most important. Because I will defend this show if this is the episode people use to trash it.

Marcy: I will also defend this show if someone trashes Marcy. Trust me, the best way to tell that someone is just hating on Amphibia for little to no reason is if they utter the word, "Marcy is a bad character." That is not true. Marcy is a great character, and I'd go so far as to say she's the best character in the series. She's sweet, adorable, and has a story ten times more interesting than Anne's. Anne learns what a sincere relationship is like through the Plantars, where Marcy falls victim to another manipulative relationship through King Andreas. It's her co-dependency that has the chance to get fleshed out more, and I can't wait to see if she has a moment to break out and form her own path.

Also, in the mass expanse of the multiverse, there exists a world where Amphibia is about the adventures that Marcy had in Newtopia as she uses Dungeons and Dragons logic to get by. And I want to see that universe! Because this clumsy nerd is already a blast to watch with the briefest of cameos. Imagine how much fun she would be if she had her own series!

Sprig: I don't know how much love Sprig gets within the fandom, but I got a feeling that it's not enough. He's funny without being annoying (most of the time), there's a whole lot of heart and sincerity to his actions, and above all else, he's the best friend that Anne needed. When Anne explained her very flawed views about friendship in "Best Fronds," it is clear how essential someone like Sprig is as he teaches Anne what friendship really means. It means caring for each other, supporting each other, making equal sacrifices for one another, and just being on the same page as each other. It is genuinely sweet seeing their friendship bloom, and I honestly hope the Amphibia fandom gives Sprig the amount of appreciation he deserves. Sure, he can be annoying sometimes, but for the most part, he's easily up there as one of my favorite characters.

Wally: Same with Wally! Who would have guessed that a character who appears as an dumb source of comic relief has a level of depth and lovability to him? "Wally and Anne" shows that while he is a nonsensical goofball, he doesn't really care what the frogs of Wartwood think of him. What matters is what he thinks of him. And that is just an incredible lesson to teach kids that just makes me love Wally more. 

(It also helps that he's probably the funniest character in the show. I know I said that he's dumb, but when he works, he works.)

Kermit the Frog Cameo: ...It's Kermit the Frog, y'all. I physically can't hate him. Especially since this is the perfect show for him to make a cameo in!

WHAT I DON’T LIKE

Anne’s Character: I don't have a problem with Anne. I think she's a serviceable protagonist, and I love the fact that she's Thai, offering a form of Asian representation other than Chinese, Japanese, or Korean. But here's the problem with Anne: After a season and a half, I still don't know what her character is. If you were to ask me to describe a Disney show protagonist within one sentence, I could do it effortlessly. Watch:

Star Butterfly: An adrenaline junky of a warrior princess who slowly learns to be responsible with each passing season.

Luz Noceda: A generous nerd that obsesses about fantasy and fiction, who still understands when to take a step in reality when the moment calls for it.

Scrooge McDuck: An old Scottish miser who has the heart of adventure and is a duck that almost loves his family as he loves his money.

For Anne, I don't know where to start because her personality is so inconsistent. Sometimes she makes friends with others without even trying, and other times, she gets on others' nerves easily. Sometimes she's a thrillseeker with the heart of adventure, and other times, she's a person who prefers to hang back and avoid doing work. And sometimes she's the only sane character with logical advice, and other times she's the most insane character who needs advice. Now, you could argue that these are all character traits that make Anne multidimensional. But if you ask me, it seems like her personality is dependent on what the writers want her to be for the episode. Someone like Luz going back and forth between two traits only works if there is a dominant personality trait that takes over the other. If Luz spends an entire episode being angry and serious, it proves that there's more to her than just a character that's nerdy and optimistic. But it's clear she is still that lovable nerd by having her say a corny line like, "Talk to the glyphs, Witch!" But because Anne has so many personality traits, it's hard to tell which is the norm and what is out of character. Case in point: Having Anne obsess over hang-gliding in one episode and doing a puzzle in the next is off as neither correlates with each other. Nor do they tell me who Anne is, other than the fact that she's clearly a character lacking a singular identity. And seeing how she's the main character, the one audiences are supposed to root for and identify with, it's probably not a good thing.

The Story: For the record, I have no problems with the story itself...the way it's written, however...

First off, there's too much filler. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, as filler episodes have the potential to be fun when written well. The problem is that relying on filler instead of telling your story can leave some people (me) uninterested and angry. And the thing is, there is a perfect way to avoid filler that doesn't involve telling the overarching narrative: Introduce personal plotlines. Look at The Owl House, for example. There are several character-oriented narrative threads that get introduced within the first few episodes. Such as Luz learning magic, Eda's curse, her relationship with Lilith, and Amity's redemption. Therefore, The Owl House avoids any filler episodes just as long as it focuses on any of these plotlines and even introduces new ones. Amphibia has the plotlines, but it rarely focuses on them. Especially since the story takes way too long to develop. 

Every time I think the show is finally going to start moving forward and we can continue the story, there are like ten more filler episodes where everything comes to a screeching halt. Now, to be fair, there is an explanation why we're forced to wait for the story to move forward, and it's because the characters are forced to wait as well. But, even then, there could have been better ways to pad out that waiting than just adding filler. For example, I may not have been forced into an alternate universe where nearly everything wants to kill me, but if I was, I WOULD SPEND EVERY WAKING MINUTE I HAVE TRYING TO FIGURE OUT A WAY BACK! In the first season, how many episodes does Anne spend trying to figure out the mystery of how she got there and how to go home? Two. There are two whole episodes, out of thirty-nine, where Anne tries to figure things out...That is insane to me. But to be fair, season two is doing a much better job at moving things along...but it doesn't change the fact that the writers are kind of bad at telling their own story.

There are two episodes, "Anne Vs. Wild" and "Lost in Newtopia," where the story continues, but it's only in the last few minutes. The problem is that if you take those endings out, the episodes themselves do not change a bit. BUT because those are significant and essential moments for the plot, you can't take them out. Resulting in scenes that, while intriguing, come across as awkward in the long run. So now, my question is why. Why is the story handled so poorly? And I have one theory.

It Feels Like the Writers Can’t Decide What they Want the Show to be: Sometimes it seems like Amphibia is written as a pure slice of life series like Big City Greens. However, there are times when the show seems like it's intended to mix slice of life with fantasy like Gravity Falls. Now here's the problem: Big City Greens and Gravity Falls are two very different shows in terms of storytelling, tone, and character work. Big City Greens is an episodic comedy series where character development is unimportant, and the adventures rarely go beyond just being wacky. As for Gravity Falls, it is a show that is semi-serialized where the character development is constant, and the fantasy-adventures are always prevalent in every episode. And there are several episodes of Amphibia that could be a part of either show. Episodes like "Stakeout," "Lily Pad Thai," and "Little Frog Town" have plots that I can see being in Big City Greens. Then there are episodes like "The Domino Effect," "Toad Tax," and "Marcy at the Gates" that I could see being in Gravity Falls. These two groups of episodes are vastly different from one another that it causes Amphibia to feel disjointed in the process. Usually, I'm a fan when a series mixes different genres together, but do you want to know why something like Gravity Falls does such a great job at mixing slice of life with fantasy-adventure? Because, as I said, fantasy-adventures are always present in every episode. "Dipper vs. Manliness," "Boss Mabel," and "Roadside Attraction" each have the most basic slice of life plots of the show, but there is always a fantasy element or a monster to fight. There are entire episodes of Amphibia where there is no monster, and even when there is, it doesn't have the same amount of tension and weight that the creatures in Gravity Falls have weekly. A show like Big City Greens doesn't have to worry about monsters or evil villains every week because it doesn't need to. It's a show about the wacky adventures of a family of farmers adjusting to city life. Why would they have to worry about a monster every week when they just have to worry about each other. If Amphibia was the same way then there would be no issue. But because if it wants to be a mix of slice of life with fantasy, then it does need to worry about a monster every week. I usually try to defend shows that try to play both sides, but this show has to be the one occasion where I have to say pick one or the other. Because the writers tried hard to be both, and personally, I don't think they did a good job.

Characters Don’t. Stop. SCREAMING!: It's here we move on from what's objectively wrong with Amphibia to the things that just bother me personally...and this is one of those things. I get it. An over-the-top reaction to something minimal can be funny on occasion...but it's never "on occasion" with this show. Nearly every episode has characters screaming to get a laugh, and most of the time, it's more annoying than it is funny. It's Hop Pop who does this the most, and I just feel so bad for Bill Farmer. That voice already seems like it's hard to do, so being forced to scream and yell with it for the sake of comedy can't do him any favors. Other shows, especially ones on the Disney Channel, have characters overreact for the sake of humor, but it's Amphibia that I feel like it relies on this the most. I'm sure some people aren't bothered by this, but I am, and this is my review, so I'm mentioning it.

Poly: Speaking of things that probably don't bother other people...I feel like I'm making some enemies with this one. Because, boy, do I not like Polly. Her voice is annoying, she mostly causes problems for the family, and to me, her entire character seems pointless. No, really. Think about it. Anne is the main character, Sprigs acts as her emotional support, and Hop Pop acts as the voice of reason. What's Polly's purpose? Because all she adds are unnecessary jokes, character traits that could have gone to anybody, and acting more as a plot device than an actual character. The only justification for her that I can think of is that she adds gender balance to the main cast. Which would be more than acceptable if there was a point to her existence. But I think it's pretty evident with her exclusion from the original pilot pitch for the program that Polly's personality is practically pointless...that is most likely the only alliteration I'll ever do for a review, so you have better appreciated it.

If you like Polly, then more power to you. For me, I just don't enjoy her.

Sasha: Oh, nelly. I can already see the hateful messages I'm gonna get from this.

Now, as a character, I actually do like Sasha. I think her personality is interesting enough to dissect, and I think she acts as a perfect antagonist to Anne, the Plantars, and even Marcy if you want to get into it. My problem relies on how much the fanbase is already jumping on the "Forgive Sasha" train. Because, "Aw, she's just like Catra and Amity! So sweet, tortured, shippable with the main character, and--" STOP IT! Stop it right now...and think. With Catra and Amity, you see the environment they grew up in, you feel the abuse they deal with, you understand the reasoning of their actions, and you come to forgive them for who they are...At least for Amity, you can. For Catra, it requires more of an argument. But Sasha? Did we see the same cruel mistreatment to her friends? Did we hear the same coldness in her voice as she describes how to manipulate people? Did we witness the same damage she's done to Anne and Marcy in how they perceive healthy relationships? Apparently not! Because while everyone else is already on the same page that Sasha deserves redemption, I'm sitting here thinking that maybe it's for the best to be a little more hesitant. So far, we have yet to see any way to understand her reasoning and have yet to see how she deserves forgiveness. Sure, Sasha was willing to sacrifice herself for Anne, but did Sasha really earn that? It works as a sudden realization that Anne deserves better, but Sasha has yet to do anything that proves she can be better. Especially since the next time we see her, she's trying to help a fascist ruler get back up on his feet...THINK ABOUT THAT!

But, sure, she's meant to be forgiven. That can work. Because while Sasha shows kids the type of people they should avoid, she can also work as a warning for what kids should avoid becoming. That is a great thing to teach...but it can also be potentially dangerous. Because if incorrectly interpreted, Sasha can show kids that every person who seems toxic just needs a chance to change. And that is the last thing you want to teach, given how very few toxic people actually change. You want to know why The Owl House gets away with an equally dangerous lesson about how not every bully is awful? It's because it shows two sides of the spectrum by proving why someone like Amity did the things she's done while also saying that characters like Boscha and Mattholomule are just a-holes for the sake of being a-holes. Sasha has no one to compare to. Sure, there's King Andreas, but he's a government figure. They're built to be manipulative. Sasha needs someone that's on her level of cruelty to prove that while some people can change and have reason to do so, others don't. And seeing how I don't think she deserves to change, at least not yet, that is an issue. It's the biggest issue out of all the issues I have with this show.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So, yeah, I think it's pretty evident how I feel about Amphibia when I can write paragraphs about the stuff I don't like while barely being able to talk about the things I do like. Because I do enjoy this show. It's funny, most of the characters are enjoyable, and its discussion on toxic relationships still has me hooked to see what happens next. My issue lies with inconsistency. The main protagonist, storytelling, genre, and thematic purposes are all inconsistent. I'm interested enough to watch more, and who knows, maybe I'll make a final verdict review once the series comes to an end. For now, if you had to ask me what I’m excited to make a return, I don't know if I'll be willing to hop to it by saying Amphibia.

(Also, if you're still looking for that link for that pirating website I mentioned, now would probably be a good time to tell you that I really never did put one in. I told you, that would be crazy...That should teach you to try to break the law.)

[bloodraven55]

“But Bumbleby was rushed/forced to pander to the gays—”

There are a number of glaring flaws in this argument, most of all the fact that no straight relationship is ever called “forced” or “pandering” even if people don’t like it, let alone “rushed” when it’s only on the verge of officially happening seven seasons into the show, but I want to break down all of the many levels on which it’s wrong in order to hopefully kill it once and for all.

“It came out of nowhere—”

Jaune was crushing on Weiss the second he saw her, Sun was crushing on Blake the moment he saw her, Pyrrha developed feelings for Jaune in just one Volume and showed some interest from the moment she saw him, and Blake goes from being consistently annoyed at Sun throughout Volumes 1 and 2 to suddenly having a crush on him in Volume 3.

If Bumbleby supposedly “came out of nowhere,” then so did W/hite Knight, A/rkos, and B/lacksun. But no one ever has an issue with the speed at which those characters started having romantic interest in each other. And I’m not even saying they should—they’re all very valid ships and whether they came out of nowhere or not isn’t the point of this—but there’s a clear double standard applied to same sex ships as opposed to heterosexual ships here and it invalidates this point right out of the gate.

“It was rushed—”

Blake and Yang are only just now close to becoming an official couple after more than six whole Volumes of knowing each other. There is no possible universe where this would qualify as “rushed.” Again, W/hite Knight and B/lacksun albeit both one-sided at least to begin with both became obvious things within literal episodes of the characters meeting, and Jaune and Pyrrha were showing blatant romantic interest in each other by Volume 2 before kissing in Volume 3.

In the last case you can argue that it went at a faster pace because Pyrrha was going to die, but that doesn't change the fact that no one complained that it went too quickly—or about the other two ships I mentioned which were both initially based solely on one (1) instance of a guy showing interest in a girl—and yet people say it’s too soon for Blake and Yang to get together when they’ve had over twice as long for their relationship to develop.

“The shippers forced it into the show—”

I don’t think I even need to add any more here when the words of CRWBY speak for themselves.

“Toxic shippers think everything is gay—”

I mean, I’m gay and I only truly ship a handful of the possible same sex pairings in the show—certainly far from the majority of them—and I also ship a number of straight ships, but go off I guess.

I already made a post on this here, but it’s insanely dismissive and ridiculous for heterosexual people i.e. the ones who usually use this “argument” to assume that they know better than actual LGBT+ people what is or isn’t good LGBT+ representation, and for them to assume that just because they missed build up that it therefore isn’t there.

I can’t take someone seriously when they go into a discussion determined to believe that they’re already right and don’t listen to a word you say to prove otherwise, especially when they’re debating on a topic which doesn’t directly affect them and which they don’t have the same level of firsthand knowledge of.

“The wasps only care about Blake and Yang getting in each other’s pants—”

Actually, it’s the people who are most aggressively against Blake and Yang being a couple that tend to reduce their relationship to being entirely about sex even though they haven’t had a single remotely sexual interaction in the show, but if this were true then surely Bumbleby shippers would be very unhappy with the show because Blake and Yang have still not “got in each other’s pants,” or “swapped clit juice” as I once saw someone tastefully describe it?

But that isn’t right. Because in general us Bee shippers are currently exceedingly happy with everything that’s happening in the show to do with Blake and Yang’s relationship. So how can that be if all we care about is whether they fuck or not?

The answer is of course that we don’t only care about whether they fuck or not—in fact most of us couldn’t care less whether it’s ever so much as hinted that they have sex, both because the show almost certainly won’t ever go there and because that isn’t our priority—we’re just enjoying watching them fall in love.

Honestly this argument is one of the most lazy because one look at RWBY will tell you that none of the romances are at all sexual thus far so any shippers who truly only care about that aspect wouldn’t stick around very long when they’ll just end up disappointed. And of course the way that these people inherently view same sex relationships as sexual is homophobic and disgusting too.

“CRWBY rushed it to give the rabid shippers what they want—”

Like the last two points, this is a “criticism” that I’ve only ever seen levelled at same sex ships and never straight ships, so it’s yet another example of double standards and hypocrisy, but that’s only the start of what’s wrong with it.

The most galling thing about this is that these people insist that all LGBT+ people because as I’ve already mentioned that is always the group which statements like this are aimed at just want to see two characters of the same gender make out as soon as possible, which is simply not true.

No one would ever claim that straight people just want to see a man and a woman get it on as soon as possible and dismiss the worth of a straight relationship because of it. So it’s ridiculous to try and force that logic onto shippers of same sex ships, who are primarily LGBT+ people themselves.

If anything, we care even more about the quality of our ships—how healthy they are, whether they’re well built up or not, etc.—because we hardly have any to begin with in comparison. If one straight ship is rushed or poorly written, then there are plenty of well-handled ones to choose from instead, but the same isn’t the case for same sex ships.

We want to be represented well, which means that we want healthy relationships with plenty of development where the characters actually have chemistry and complement each other. We might still support rushed or badly-written same sex ships sometimes because it’s still representation which we are overall sorely lacking, but we don’t want them.

“But they ship baited with Blake and Sun—”

First off, straight ships can’t be baited the same way that same sex ships can. It’s simply not a comparable situation. But of course B/lacksun shippers are entitled to feel disappointed that their ship didn’t become canon. That’s utterly valid and understandable. However, that doesn’t mean that the writers or the show in any way misled viewers regarding what was happening.

“But Sun winked at Blake—”

And Yang also winked at Blake in Volume 2 while asking her to the dance, just like Sun winked at Blake in Volume 1 and then asked Blake to the dance. And Blake turned Sun down when he asked initially, specifically told him that they were only “technically” going together when she ran into him outside, and told him definitively that she had chosen to give her first dance to Yang.

“But Blake blushed at Sun—”

And now she’s also blushed at Yang, in a far more intimate scene at that. Next point.

“But Sun met Blake’s parents—”

And? Simply meeting someone’s parents doesn’t on any level automatically imply romance. Ghira didn’t even like Sun, and while a lot of people like to claim that Kali “ships it” which would be extremely flimsy evidence to base the canonicity of a ship on anyway, she’s someone who would do the same with anyone Blake brought home so it means nothing. If Blake had actually chosen to take Sun home with her herself then this would be a valid point, but she didn’t, so it has no weight whatsoever overall.

“But Blake kissed Sun on the cheek—”

And I kiss my mother on the cheek the exact same way every time I say goodbye to her. If you think that type of kiss on the cheek has to be romantic then quite frankly I’m not sure what world you’re living in. If the camera had been close up, if there had been any shots at all of their reactions, any blushing or lingering looks, a more private setting— literally anything to give it some actual weight and make it feel significant, then this might mean something, but it’s framed as a totally platonic goodbye with zero romantic coding.

And that’s without even mentioning the fact that right after that moment Sun flat out states that his time with Blake was “never about [romance],” which sort of kills the idea that anything about that scene was supposed to be taken as romantic. There was no reason to include that line except to make it clear to the audience that Sun and Blake parted ways as friends who now have no intention of ever becoming anything more.

Seriously, if they wanted us to think that there was still something there, then Blake would have been shown to be thinking about or missing Sun even one since they separated, but he hasn’t been brought up for even a second. If they wanted to set up a continuation of anything romantic for them when the group reach Vacuo, say, then they would have started doing it by now.

Plus the reverse argument that Blake and Sun have never hugged or held hands—both of which Blake and Yang have done multiple times—works just as well, perhaps even better since handholding is a well-established romantic cue in the show already thanks to A/rkos, R/enora, and O/zma and Salem.

“But why was Sun even there in Volumes 4 and 5 then—”

Because Blake needed a friend who she could exposition to about her thought processes and personal problems so that the audience could understand what she was going through, and she wasn’t as likely to open up to her parents about that stuff right away when she was convinced they’d hate her for leaving.

Sun was there to support Blake as she developed and to tell her that running away hurt the very people she was trying to protect. That was his narrative role in that arc. There was nothing to indicate that a romance was being built in those more than twenty episodes they spent together and if it was going to happen that would have been the time to do it.

On the other hand Blake and Yang’s shared arc together is built on the fact that Blake’s romantic ex, who Blake had already directly contrasted with Yang and whose Semblance was already a foil to Yang’s, maimed Yang specifically because Blake loves her. The basis of that arc has romantic weight, which is what makes the difference here. Though the scene at the end of Volume 3 where Adam takes Yang’s arm isn’t romantic in and of itself, I should clarify, it just has romantic significance in that it makes it clear that Blake and Yang’s feelings go beyond mere friendship.

In short, the summary of this whole section pretty much boils down to: two characters spending time together doesn't inherently equal romantic development, and it isn’t in any way “baiting” if those two characters don’t then get together.

The characters’ feelings follow a fairly logical progression over the course of the show, with Blake showing interest in both Sun and Yang in V1-V3, then ceasing to show interest in Sun after that as their relationship becomes totally platonic by Volume 5/the beginning of Volume 6 at the very latest, while the events of the Fall of Beacon only solidified how strong her feelings for Yang were and once she reunites with Yang their relationship begins to head towards romance.

It’s a pretty realistic depiction of how human feelings work, and a far less messy situation than in a lot of other shows where there isn’t the same massive level of hatred and vitriol towards the “victorious” pairing, because this was never even really presented as a love triangle or rivalry.

To conclude, I just want to list some of the contradictions that I’ve seen within the arguments made against Bumbleby, because I think it’s very telling that the people who are against it can’t even settle on one coherent narrative on why it’s bad.

“Bumbleby has no development, but also the show focusses too much on Bumbleby.”

“Monty wouldn’t have wanted Bumbleby—it goes against his vision—even though I didn’t know him and have no idea what his vision actually was, and he explicitly stated that he wanted LGBT+ characters in the show who might already be in the main cast and that he wanted Blake and Yang to have a shared arc together, as well as being responsible for the set up of that arc with Blake and Yang being introduced as Beauty and the Beast while Adam canonically represents Gaston.”

“The Bumbleby shippers have so much influence that they forced the writers to make the ship canon, but they’re also just a vocal minority who don’t matter.”

“Blake and Yang hardly interact—they’re barely even friends—but they also interact too much and it’s making Bumbleby take over the show.”

“Arryn is a victim of the toxic wasps who harrassed her and sent her death threats for saying that the song Bmblb doesn't automatically make the ship canon, which there is zero evidence of,  but Arryn is also an unprofessional cunt for expressing her support of Bumbleby.”

“None of Blake and Yang’s scenes together are romantic so Bumbleby is forced, but even when they have undeniably romantic interactions I’ll ignore them or deny that they mean anything so I can still pretend it has no build up.”

“Bumbleby is bad because Team RWBY are a sisterhood, but all of the other straight relationships within teams—even those who’ve flat out called each other ”family”—are fine, and I’ll just pretend that there aren’t other definitions of the word sisterhood which have nothing to do with actual sisters and are the ones that actually apply in this case.”

“Blake and Yang’s relationship could be seen as romantic or platonic, but I personally think they’re just friends so Bumbleby is bad and came out of nowhere.”

I’ve seen all of these countless times with my own two eyes and it’s absolutely hilarious to be honest. Anyway that’s it. I have yet to see a single logical argument as to why Bumbleby is bad that isn’t made in bad faith, fallacious, or just doesn’t hold up when you actually look at the show. It’s about to be canon, and at this point to be honest anyone who doesn't like that can simply accept it or go and watch something else that will pander to their specific tastes instead.

[psychedaleka]

all my stumbling phrases

an angbang @officialtolkiensecretsanta 2020 gift fic for @celebbun :) hope you enjoy!

Rating: T | No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Melkor/Mairon Characters: Melkor, Mairon Word count: 2.7k

Summary: A winter day in Utumno, an outdoor excursion, and a conversation.

---

“You want to do what?” Mairon levels a flat stare at Melkor, who’s looking at him with an expression that would be unreadable to anyone else.

To Mairon, it’s the I-have-an-idea-and-it-just-might-end-in-a-disaster look.

“Strap knives to our feet and glide on ice,” Melkor says, matter of fact, as though it’s something that anyone would think to do.

read the rest on ao3! or below the cut

Mairon sets down his quill and closes the inventory records. The cover slams shut with a bang. He can feel a headache building. No—not a headache. Not exactly. But it’s an ache of some sort, something he can’t put into words. The feeling he keeps getting whenever he’s in the same room as Melkor but like he doesn’t know what he should do, what he should say.

Like he’s flustered.

Mairon has never been flustered in his life.

“You need a break,” Melkor says. “You’ve been staring at that for how long now, a week?”

“Less than a day, for this particular record,” Mairon corrects. “I have been auditing your storerooms for a week.”

“Exactly!” Melkor says. “Does it matter if we have 3400 or 3401 shields?”

“Yes,” Mairon says, but doesn’t bother to offer more explanation.

He wants to double check and cross reference the math, because it’s simple, and straightforward, and if there’s something he doesn’t recognize, there’s inevitably a solution.

It distracts him, too, from staring at Melkor too much, from watching everything he does. It is probably, Mairon tells himself, that Melkor is a Valar, and he commands attention. There’s no other possible explanation as to why Mairon might lose track of everything else when he’s around.

“Listen,” Melkor says, shifting tactics, “the inventories will keep for another day. Just give an order that whichever storeroom you’re investigating shouldn’t be touched, and come back to it later. It isn’t as though the shields will run away.”

Mairon considers it.

“Fine,” he says.

“Excellent!” Melkor says. “Now, I have some ideas about how we could achieve this—”

Of course, those ideas happen to be Melkor describing what he wants to achieve, and Mairon scrambling to find a way to realize it. It’s very typical, and Mairon’s used to it now.

Melkor’s a big picture thinker, and that was what drew Mairon to him in the beginning. Mairon can’t really complain about that now. Even if Melkor occasionally shows up to dump a pile of half formed plans and ideas on him, leaving him to drop what he’s doing and piece together the scraps and trace Melkor’s—often disjointed—logic.

Even so, Mairon’s quite pleased with the end result—ice skates, they’ll probably be called. The blade is separate from the shoe, with a platform that attaches to the sheo by two leather straps. The blade is not as sharp as the knives Mairon prefers, no, but it will glide across ice and support the wearer’s weight.

It will help with icy expeditions and complaints that frozen lakes are impossible to cross.

“All that’s left to do is test them,” Mairon tells Melkor, who’s been sitting on a bench in his—no, the forge, Mairon can’t forget that it technically doesn’t belong to him. Melkor’s presence has surprised and scared quite a few of the other maiar and a not insignificant number of orcs. “I’m certain I’ll be able to find a few orcs willing to volunteer—”

“No, no,” Melkor says. “Let’s go test them.”

Mairon opens his mouth, then closes it again.

“I have work to do,” he says, a weak excuse.

“Get someone else to do it,” he says. “Surely, counting can’t be so difficult a task that you need to attend to it?”

“No one will organize the storerooms in the optimal configuration,” Mairon says.

“Optimal configuration, you say,” Melkor says, and Mairon knows he’s laughing at him, but he doesn’t say anything. “It can be just the two of us.”

Mairon tries to parse the implications of that sentence.

“Besides, I’m bored,” Melkor continues.

Mairon remembers the last time Melkor had been bored. It involved several explosions, a near incomprehensible scoreboard, and half a year to clean up. Mairon considers it, and looks up at Melkor—who seems to know exactly what he’s doing.

“Fine,” Mairon says. Productivity in the forges has been down, anyways, since Melkor first started watching him work on the ice skates. His normally competent assistants have ruined a batch of swords, broken three hammers, and nearly dropped a ton of molten iron on the ground. He needs to get Melkor out of here before his presence causes a larger disaster.

“I knew you would agree eventually.”

There are underground lakes and rivers beneath the foundation of Utumno, used for the drinking and other miscellaneous needs of the fortress’ inhabitants. It’s liquid year round, even in the middle of winter, insulated from the aboveground temperature by layers of rock. The paths to this reservoir are many, but it’s not there that they head for, and for that, Mairon is secretly glad. The last thing he needs is to field panicked reports of the plumbing not working because Melkor had frozen the whole thing. Even if he had designed and tested it himself.

Some distance from Utumno is a lake, nestled between mountain peaks. Fed by rainwater and melting snow from the mountains, it had formed when the Lamps were destroyed.

It was also where Mairon had landed, when he came to Utumno permanently.

It’s there that Melkor leads him, now, some distance away from straying gazes and open ears.

The surface of the lake is frozen over, in a layer of clear ice.

“Will the ice hold?” Mairon asks.

“One way to find out,” Melkor says, and Mairon fights the urge to tell him that there absolutely are more ways to find out. “You first.”

Mairon’s already come this far. He might as well—and if he falls over, well, there’s no one around to see except Melkor, and he doesn’t care if he embarasses himself in front of Melkor.

That’s a lie. He cares very much of what Melkor thinks about him.

Mairon straps the skates to his shoes with cold fingers. He should have brought gloves.

It isn’t difficult to balance on solid ground, but the moment Mairon steps onto the ice, he slips and falls. He can hear Melkor’s muffled laughter.

Well, he thinks, at least Melkor has the awareness to muffle his laughter—as though that’s any better.

His cheeks flush red, and it’s not just because of the cold.

He pushes himself up from the ice. His fingers are cold. This time, Mairon manages to stay upright for a few more seconds, but when he starts trying to move, he’s wobbly and falls soon after. He scrambles for a few seconds, trying to push himself up again, before Melkor interjects.

“Need some help?” Melkor asks, gliding on the second pair of skates as though this isn’t his first time skating. Melkor offers an arm, and Mairon clings to it, dragging himself up.

“Thanks,” Mairon says.

“Here, hold my hands,” Melkor says. “You won’t fall over as much.”

“Perhaps it’s a design flaw,” Mairon says, trying to concentrate on something other than how close Melkor is. “How much balance is needed to effectively operate them, I mean.”

“I don’t think so,” Melkor says. “All you need is some practice.”

Melkor starts skating backwards, slowly—the showoff—and he takes Mairon with him. Mairon glides, pulled along by Melkor, inexorably drawn by his trajectory, trusting him not to lead Mairon to a fall.

“See, it isn’t so hard,” Melkor says. “Why don’t you try?”

Mairon lets go of Melkor’s hands—reluctantly, and he doesn’t want to think of the implications of that. He wobbles along, for a short while—he’s getting better, he thinks—and falls. Again.

Melkor muffles his laughter, again, as Mairon drags himself up.

“Not all of us have your sense of balance,” Mairon says, annoyed.

“Oh, yes, I’m very well aware,” Melkor says, not bothering to hide his grin.

Mairon glares at him.

“Here, we can keep holding hands,” Melkor says. “Let’s go around the lake.”

Mairon casts a glance at the other shore of the lake, barely lit by starlight filtering through a thick layer of clouds.

“Are you sure the ice will hold?” Mairon asks.

“Oh, yes,” Melkor says. “There shouldn’t be any issues.”

A few hours later, Mairon is chilled to the bone and decently competent at skating.

“That was fun,” Melkor says.

“More importantly, the skates are tested,” Mairon says.

Melkor stares at him, for a long moment.

“What?” Mairon asks.

“Did you really think this was about testing skates?” Melkor asks.

“Yes?” Mairon says. “What else?”

“You and I, spending some time together,” Melkor says.

“We spend plenty of time together,” Mairon says. “When you come and watch me work, when I report to you about the status of Utumno—”

“No,” Melkor says. “Not about work. On a personal basis.”

Mairon blinks.

On a personal basis? What could Melkor want from him ‘on a personal basis?’

He asks as much, but Melkor doesn’t answer that question.

“You were unhappy in Almaren,” Melkor says, a statement more than a question. “That was easy to tell. But harder, I think, to tell if you’re happy here.”

A pause.

“Mairon, are you happy?”

“Yes?” Mairon answers. He doesn’t know why Melkor would ask him this.

“I mean it,” Melkor says. “If there’s anything you dislike—if there’s anything that you want to be different, don’t hesitate to change it.”

There is. There is that maddeningly incomprehensible feeling he gets when he’s around Melkor, but that’s not something he can articulate, let alone make concrete plans for.

“I hadn’t thought my personal wellbeing mattered to you,” Mairon says, instead.

“Why would it not?”

“Because—well, because you’re you, and I’m me,” Mairon answers.

“That’s not an answer.”

“As though you haven’t been giving me non answers the whole day.”

“Like for what question?”

“What do you want from me on a personal basis?”

Melkor—for probably the first time in his very long life—thinks about what he says before he says it.

“The work you have done for me is commendable,” Melkor says. “The structure, organizational, and technological improvements have been greatly beneficial to my forces, and I—would not have been able to achieve these changes without you. But what you could do for me was not the only reason I wanted you to be mine.”

What other reason could there be, Mairon thinks, but doesn’t ask.

“I—” Melkor glances around, as though someone could be eavesdropping on their conversation— “I love you.”

Mairon stands there, frozen, not just because of the cold.

He opens his mouth, and closes it.

“You—what?” Mairon asks, finally, when the implications of what Melkor just said hits him. “I—what?”

Melkor turns sharply, skates grinding across the ice. There’s tension in his shoulders.

“Forget it,” he says. “Forget I said anything.”

“No, I—” Mairon falls silent. He doesn’t know how to proceed.

“We ought to return,” Melkor says.

The thing is: Mairon doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to go back to his inventories and reports. He wants to stay out here, even though he’s freezing cold, because—because—because—

Because Melkor is here, with him. With only him.

But Melkor is skating towards the opposite end of the lake, and Mairon rushes to follow.

Only—he shifts his weight, and there’s a cracking noise, and before Mairon can realize what’s happened, the ice breaks beneath him, swallowing him beneath the icy water.

Mairon is a Maia, and he doesn’t need anything as paltry as oxygen, but he’s exhausted from his week of auditing, and trying to ensure the forges don’t fall to chaos as he and Melkor design the ice skates, and the cold air while he skated, and the love confession, and the icy shock.

Mairon is a Maia, but his nature is that of fire and stone, and he doesn’t do well with cold water.

He slips into unconsciousness.

The next thing Mairon is aware of is a heavy weight on his body, and the fact that he is lying on something soft. He blinks his way to wakefulness, slowly, slowly, and the world around him sharpens in degrees.

He’s lying on a bed—a feather bed, with stuffed pillows, underneath several layers of thick blankets. The bed frame is carved dark wood, and the richly embroidered curtains are half closed, giving him a faint view of the room outside. There’s a roaring fire opposite him, with the faint smell of wood smoke, and tapestries hanging on the stone walls.

This isn’t his room, with his sparse cot and makeshift blankets that he had chosen over a proper bed.

Mairon sits upright, too quickly.

The room is empty. He had hoped it wouldn’t be.

Mairon tries, desperately, to parse what happened.

Melkor had said he loved him. He loved him.

Mairon had thought—this was impossible, not because Aule had implied Melkor was incapable of love, but because Mairon was a Maia, and Melkor’s subordinate, and—

He had rejected that possibility, and his own feelings, because he never thought it would be possible.

But it isn’t impossible. It isn’t even improbable.

It happened. Melkor had said he loved him.

And Mairon had—he flops back down onto the bed. Mairon had frozen, entirely.

He lies there, for a few more minutes, before making up his mind. He needs to do something about this.

He pushes himself out of bed—maybe too fast, because the world swoops around him.

A hand catches his arm, pulls him upright.

“Careful there,” Melkor says, standing right next to Mairon. He’s watching Mairon, with an expression that is utterly unreadable to Mairon.

Mairon doesn’t like it.

“What happened?”

“You fell into the lake,” Melkor says, and Mairon thinks Melkor should be amused, he should find it funny that Mairon actually fell into the lake after worrying that he would, but Melkor isn’t laughing.

He looks dead serious.

“I thought you said the ice would hold,” Mairon says, because he doesn’t like this. He wants Melkor to be making fun of him.

“If you’re implying that I deliberately made you fall in—”

“Did you?”

“No!” Melkor snaps.

Is he angry? Mairon doesn’t know. He sits down—and something in him says, this is improper, you shouldn’t be sitting when he isn’t, but Mairon’s passed improper hours ago.

“It was very cold,” he says, because he doesn’t know what else to say. Melkor doesn’t respond. “Where am I?”

“My rooms,” Melkor says. “Yours were hardly sufficient. You don’t even have a bed.”

He sounds—annoyed? Angry on Mairon’s behalf? Mairon isn’t sure why, except—the words I love you rings in his mind, and Mairon wonders, then, if Melkor cares about him beyond the way a lord should for his servant.

But of course, Mairon chides himself.

“Perhaps I should start stealing your bed,” Mairon says, after far too long a silence.

Melkor doesn’t respond to that.

“I should go,” Mairon says, but he makes no move to leave.

But Melkor doesn’t make him leave.

“I love you too,” Mairon blurts out. He should be leaving. He should really, really be leaving. But when he makes for the door, Melkor stops him with a firm grip on his arm.

“Don’t say that just because you feel obligated to,” Melkor says.

“I’m not,” Mairon says, feeling the room grow several degrees warmer. Or maybe it’s just his face. “I don’t—feel obligated to—I just. Wanted to tell you how I felt. Feel. Still do.”

Melkor brushes a thumb across Mairon’s cheekbone.

Then Melkor kisses him.

After an eternity, and too short a time, they pull away from each other.

“You can steal my bed anytime you’d like,” Melkor says, with a wink.

Mairon, flustered, is speechless.

“My auditing,” Mairon says.

“Forget about it,” Melkor says. “You can easily go back to it tomorrow. Stay here. With me.”

With him.

“Sure,” Mairon says. “What do you want to do?”

Melkor’s watching Mairon with his I-have-an-idea look. But this time, it just might not end in a disaster.

[vs-redemption]

Crime is Common. Logic is Rare. (Ch.26)

Chapter Twenty-six: Dabi (HawksxGN!Reader)

From Cindy: My intention was to never have Dabi in this story, but now he’s here. lol He wanted to add a bit of spice.

Plot summary: As a quirk geneticist, you never really imagined yourself getting involved in hero work. Of course, you never imagined catching the eye of a pro hero either. What starts as a great career opportunity turns into a relationship built upon mutual secrets and trust.

Warnings:

⚠️This story contains spoilers from the manga.

⚠️Some events and plot points have been altered from the original manga

Tag List: @gayforkeigo @marshmallow-witch @redflannel @toyo-shiro @elsasshole @astronomyturtle @iambashfulperson @omiwashere

Next Chapter : Chapter Guide

Returning to work and getting back into a routine after having a vacation was always a little difficult. That was especially true when you worked for a mad doctor who created super villains in the basement of an otherwise mediocre municipal hospital. But after reconnecting with friends from your hometown and having some much needed quality time with your boyfriend, you were feeling refreshed and ready to face the last stretch of your dangerous journey. The spark of cautious optimism was stomped out almost immediately when you stepped into the hospital lobby and saw the expression on Dr. Garaki’s face as he greeted you.

“What’s wrong?” you ask before any pleasantries can be exchanged. A list of worst case scenarios begins to compile in your brain as the doctor tries to force the smile on his face to appear more genuine. If something urgent had popped up, you knew he would have gotten in touch with you, so it was hard to predict the situation you were coming back to. You couldn’t discuss anything about Shigaraki in the main hospital though, so you’d have to endure the suspense until both of you were safely out of sight in the underground lab.

“You look well rested,” Garaki comments as you make your way to the secret elevator. Your nervous jitters made the walk seem much longer than usual. “I guess taking a few days off was a good idea.”

“I appreciate you giving me the time,” you tell him since it remained to be seen whether taking a break from your duties had been a good idea or not.

“We’ll be having a guest in the lab today,” the doctor finally reveals a sliver of information after all your personal belongings had been put in a locker and he’d run a metal detector over you to check for bugs. You were used to this process by now, but the knowledge that you’d be meeting what you assumed was going to be another villain made you feel incredibly uncomfortable. You couldn’t imagine what more the villains could need you for, unless something horrible had happened to Shigaraki while you were away and it was time to face the consequences. It made no sense for them to kill you there in the hospital though, so you did your best to keep your fears and imagination in check.

You summon as much confidence and courage as you can as Dr. Garaki finally takes you into the lab where your mysterious visitor was waiting, but you can’t help but falter for the second time that day when you come face to face with a man with charcoal black hair, intense sapphire blue eyes, and skin covered in horribly discolored burn scars. The scent of burnt flesh wafts through the air, making your eyes water and stomach churn.

“So, you’re the little scientist I’ve been hearing so much about,” he approaches you slowly like a predator, the sound of his boots on the cold cement floor making him that much more intimidating. His voice comes out slow and gravelly, the complete opposite of Shigaraki’s anxious, whiny timbre.

“And you’re Dabi,” you reply, trying to match his level of lazy calmness. Shigaraki’s reckless need for destruction was terrifying to be sure, but the calculating way Dabi met your eyes made you feel like he was peering right into the deepest parts of your mind where everything you’d been trying to keep secret was hidden.

“Sorry for springing him on you like this,” The doctor speaks up, still with a tense look on his face. “I just thought meeting him here would be preferable to his original plan to wait and jump out from a dark alley.” You scrunch up your nose at the image while sending an incredulous look at the villain.

“Charming,” you deadpan and Dabi rolls his eyes.

“I don’t see what the problem is,” he replies flatly while lifting a hand to pick at one of the many shiny silver staples on his face that seemed to be serving the purpose of holding his damaged skin together. “If you’re working with the PLF, it shouldn’t matter when or where I show up.”

“PLF?” You feign ignorance and Dabi curls his lip in annoyance. He wasn’t going to get you to screw up that easily. Hawks had told you about the whole “quirk liberation” movement, but you weren’t supposed to know that the League of Villains had joined forces with the devoted followers of that ideology. Dabi took another aggressive step forward, but you held your ground.

“If you’re willing to help Shigaraki,” he reasons, “I think you can afford me the same curtesy since he and I are on the same side.”

“I think that depends a great deal on what you need from me,” you say boldly “Because I don’t recall ever claiming to be on anyone’s side.” You hated how close Dabi was standing to you. You knew he had a powerful fire quirk, even without the uncomfortable waves of heat radiating from his skin. You felt a small pang of sympathy knowing that the burns covering his body were a result of the destructive blue flames he’d been born with. One day, you hoped your research would prevent anyone from falling victim to their own biology the way he had. Dabi had only himself to blame, however, for choosing to use his quirk to take the lives of others. Like Shigaraki, he had plenty of blood on his hands.

“I need you to tell me everything you know about that giant chicken your dating,” Dabi says simply, a challenging look in his eyes. You shake your head and take the chance to move away and get him out of your personal bubble.

“Nope,” you reject him right away. “I won’t do that.”

“Why? There’s no way you actually love him,” a dry laugh escapes from Dabi’s lips. “He’s a hero isn’t he? You’re already betraying him by helping Shigaraki.”

“First of all, how I feel about Hawks is none of your business,” you cross your arms over your chest. “Second, helping your creepy boss and the doctor is beneficial to my career. Divulging secrets about my boyfriend is only beneficial to you. I’d get nothing out of it.”

“Are you trying to make an enemy out of me?” Dabi asks, his voice coming out casual despite the threat of his words.

“No,” you shake your head, “but I’m not trying to make an ally out of you either. If you want to go after Hawks, I’m not going to oppose you. In fact, I’ll even point you in the right direction. If you can find someone from the Hero Commission to terrorize, I bet you’d learn a whole lot of juicy tidbits.”

“It’d be easier to learn them from you,” Dabi sniffs, his increasing irritation was becoming palpable. The tension in the air, not to mention the suffocating heat of his quirk seemed to grow thicker by the second.

“As Shigaraki liked to tell me, there are still a lot of things I don’t know about my boyfriend,” you confess. “But I know enough about him to realize he wouldn’t put up with as much of the commission’s crap as he does if they didn’t have something to hold over him. I’m sure you could figure out what that is if you were motivated enough.” Dabi moves to step into your personal space again, his hooded eyes widening in anger, but the doctor jumps back into the conversation.

“If we could wrap this up soon, I’d appreciate it,” he puts up his hands as a sign of neutrality before looking at you. “There’s a lot I wanted to get done today, and I need help your help administering the next dose of Shigaraki’s serum.” Dabi ignores Garaki completely and continues to stare you down.

“You really think you’ll be able to continue riding the fence from the position you’re in?” he asks menacingly. “You’re worse than the heroes if you stand for nothing.” You eye Dabi for a moment, wondering once again what horrible circumstances life had to throw at someone for them to end up so dark and hateful.

“I’m sure that your motivations, whatever they may be, are valid,” You tell him. “I know Shigaraki mentioned a few of his concerns about our flawed hero society to me before, and some of what he said actually made sense.” You pause to see what Dabi would say, but he remained silent.

“Look,” You continue with a shrug. “I don’t fault any of you for standing up for what you believe and pushing for change. It’s just your methods that I can’t get onboard with. That’s why I can stand aside and let it happen without feeling obligated to get involved myself.”

“And you’ve made your position on this matter clear from the very beginning” The doctor backs you up. You weren’t going to mistake his words for some kind of allegiance though. He had only allowed you into his lab because he needed your quirk and expertise to complete his Shigaraki project. None of these people would ever trust you completely, and you could never trust them.

“You might come to regret this conversation in the future,” Dabi says with an ominous tone that sent a shiver up your spine. “Bad things tend to happen to people who waste my time.” You wanted to tell him that he had been the one to waste his own time, but thought better of it since you knew from watching the news that he had no problems with making good on his threats.

Before things could escalate further, Dr. Garaki sent Dabi through the hidden tunnel that led to the second lab so that you two could finally get to work on Shigaraki. Once the door was shut, the doctor apologized for the villain’s rudeness but then carried on like normal. He filled you in on Shigaraki’s progress over the days you’d been gone, and helped you administer the next dose of the serum. Shigaraki still had some intense reactions to his DNA being modified, but the severity seemed to be decreasing along with the frequency. You wanted to worry more about the outcome of the procedure, but now you had a second danger looming over your head in the form of Dabi.

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 10: Truth and illusions (Part 1)

Warnings: none

Author notes: I’m glad to finally be back with a new chapter for you! I hope you’ll like it!

As promised, Ranpo-san had gone to meet with the director of the Armed Detective Agency and had disappeared behind a discreet door of the office. Kunikida looked bothered, but he did not add anything and went back to work on his schedule. Sometimes, as I waited for the detective to come back, I could hear him mumble and grunt about the members' irresponsibility and how untrustworthy I was at the moment. I had tricked him and used him to go back to the Agency, but did it make me a wicked person? Perhaps, actually. I realised the greatest problem I would encounter with my new life would be completing missions and doing my job without using underground techniques and skills I had acquired throughout the years. No torture, whether psychological or physical, no warning, no threat, and no killing. I was used to such methods, and I knew none other which worked so well. I wondered how Dazai dealt with that matter... On the other hand, the man was a born strategist; within the monstrous number of plans he could put in place to solve a problem, one of them could avoid the use of crimes, could it not? I decided to question him about this matter when we both would be alone. For the moment, I had to focus on being accepted in the Armed Detective Agency.

"Ogawa, could you come in a moment, please?" Ranpo-san's characteristic voice echoed in the room.

I reached him in what I assumed was the director's office. The place was a bit darker, but the atmosphere was as comfortable, perhaps even a tad more serene. This was most certainly due to the diverse traditional trinkets and decorations set around the room, rather harmoniously. The director, himself, gave off the feeling of a charismatic person, very righteous but also kind. He had nothing in common with Mori-san, whose eyes shone with evilness. I felt genuine respect for this man sitting in front of me.

"So..." His voice sounded deep and confident "You are here because you want to join our Armed Detective Agency?"

His question felt more like a statement to me, but I nodded anyway.

"It is rare for Ranpo to take interest in someone. What did you do to catch his eyes?" He questioned.

I could not admit we had barely run past each other on a bridge while I was following a man who was going to die... Could I...?

"I..." I hesitated before remembering why I was there in the first place "I think it has something to do with the reason of my presence here —"

"She threw herself out of a window, from the third floor of a building, for the sole sake of being cured by Yosano-sensei and stepping there again." He answered for me "That alone shows how determined she is, doesn't it?"

"Again...?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Several weeks ago, I was deadly wounded during a fight... And Dazai brought me there." I explained.

"I see. I have to admit, it was a bold move from you."

"I was scolded by Yosano-sensei for that..." I rubbed the back of my head "She told me to respect my life some more..."

"And, Ogawa Yōko, how would someone who doesn't care about her life protect those of the citizens of Yokohama?" He questioned me, rather curtly.

I was taken aback. Astonished. And stayed mute, stupidly trying to come up with some kind of answer. His question was not malicious, but it raised important issues. Indeed, how would I...? Was I truly able to protect people's lives, I who had always worked to steal them...? I clenched my fists, lowering my head to hide my eyes with my bangs, just so none of the men would be able to witness the gathering of tears in them. Was I even suited for this place...?

"I... I've always been told that my existence was worthless..." I confessed after a moment of awkward silence "My father repeated, every day, that it would have been better if I had never been born, that I wouldn't be a burden for him if I had never existed... With time, I... Ended up believing his words. There was no one to tell me otherwise, anyway, and when I ended up in the slums, I became all the more aware that my life was so meaningless in this ruthless world we live in... So I... I suppose I do not value my existence as I should value a human's. To be honest, I do not think the slightest that I can protect lives. I've failed countless times trying to save people I cared about... How would I preserve those of strangers...? However, at the very least, I am willing not to go back to the darkness I come from, and I want to try. I want to try growing and living under the sunlight. Will you... Will you give me a single chance...? Even if it is to prove to me I cannot do it, will you just allow me one chance...?"

The director's eyes had widened progressively as I was talking. Ranpo-san had crossed his arms and leaned his back onto the chair, perhaps thinking about whether recommending me was a good idea or not, and I regretted every word I had said. If I wanted to be taken... If I truly wanted to be employed, I would have tried and praised the little qualities I had, instead of mentioning all of my worst flaws. Did I even have any qualities…?

"Ogawa..." The older man sighed after a moment.

My heart raced in my chest. He would reject me... He would order me to leave and stay away from this place. He would toss me away. Disposable pawn... Would Mori-san's words follow me anywhere I went...? I winced, holding my head a moment. My headache, due to my anxiousness, was giving me a hard time and I had troubles focusing on something else than the various thoughts fighting around my mind for attention.

"I believe every human life holds its value." He spoke suddenly, drawing my attention to him "Yours is not different, none can make you believe it is worthless from now on. None will ever tell you that anymore if you are willing to give our Agency a try. I want to give you the chance you asked for, now it is your turn to prove me right, to prove yourself wrong and to live on. Do you think you can strive to become the person you aim to be?"

"I can. I will." I declared, serious "I will make good use of this chance given to me, Director... However, I would like to be fired if anything I do compromises the Agency or the detectives..."

"Not everything we do is according to the law." He smiled slightly "Although we try to make everything legal, there are things we do and that the government allows only due to certain circumstances. It can't be helped, but you will, indeed, be notified if anything you do seems wrong to us. I believe Kunikida-kun will tell you each time..."

"Then, thank you for your trust, Director... I will not disappoint you."

"I am not afraid that you disappoint me." He said mysteriously "You haven't been registered as a detective yet; until then, try not to cause too much trouble. Or we won't be able to help you."

His words seemed to hold a deep meaning, yet I could not understand what he was trying to imply. Trouble? Solving crimes related to abilities did not seem to involve much trouble, did it? I simply nodded, thanked him again and exited the room with Ranpo-san, who had not departed from his grin throughout the entire conversation. Once the door was closed behind us, I felt the urge to bow in front of him.

"Thank you very much, Ranpo-san, for recommending me. If not for you, I... I would not have been able to be accepted to this place."

"Don't thank me too quickly~" He chuckled "You may regret it, who knows~ Anyway, I believe Kunikida-kun already looked for a proper first job for you."

He too, seemed to make some understatement my mind could not decipher. I thought it was better not to pay too much attention to it for the moment so I could focus on solving my first case in the Armed Detective Agency.

"Obviously." The blond man sighed, handing me a printed order "You are to play the bodyguard. Is that too complicated a first mission?"

"Not at all..." I blinked, taken aback, and grabbed the sheet to read the demand "I did not expect this, that's all..."

"It's true that you've helped us with the murder case of the hostel~" Dazai noted "But although we are 'detectives', we have other occupations than investigating mysteries~"

"That's my part~" Ranpo-san added "I was too busy last time, that's all~"

"I see..." I smiled "I'll be off, then."

As I took my coat, I felt something was wrong. And I turned toward Kunikida.

"Have you... Have you taken my guns...?" I awkwardly asked him.

"Obviously...!" He groaned "In case you would be dangerous...! I could not let you shoot at everyone once you were awake...!"

"That is... Logical." I agreed "However, could I have them back...?"

"You most likely won't need them today, though?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I... I'm not used..." I embarrassingly rubbed the back of my head "I'm not used not to wearing my holsters... I even slept with them, sometimes..."

"Do you realise you could have killed yourself...?" He groaned "Fine, you'll have them back, but I won't allow you more than a magazine for each one."

"It will be more than enough." I assured with a smile as he gave them back to me.

Once the guns were in place, I could wear my coat and place the order in the inner pocket to prove my identity.

"You'll need someone to escort you." Dazai told me "For you aren't a detective yet~ I can —"

"You can't!" Kunikida argued "You are both acquaintances, who knows what you can do together? And I can't go either, for there is too much work..."

"Meh..." He seemed disappointed "My ultimate attempt to ditch work~"

"You'll have plenty of other opportunities~" I reassured him "But it is bothering me that I can't go alone..."

"The problem doesn't lay in your skills; it is more than likely that you could succeed alone. Playing bodyguard isn't something you're unused to, after all... No, the problem is, we have to keep an eye on our new trainee and prove your identity." Dazai explained "But except for Kunikida-kun, who could go...?"

"I am not suited for the task~" The detective declined, laying on his desk.

"You've already done so much for me..." I said.

"Then, I'll go."

I turned toward Yosano-sensei, who had removed her white coat and readjusted her clothes while we were busy discussing the mission.

"Is it not a problem...?" I frowned "You are the doctor, if —"

"It is unlikely that anyone will get hurt till tonight." She brushed my concern off with the back of her hand "I'll be in charge of you, and if I see you putting your life on the line again, I'll have the pleasure to punish you~"

"That... Won't happen... I hope..." I looked away before smiling at Dazai "I'll see you later..."

"See you later~" He grinned "Come back safe so we can go somewhere to drink~"

"If you are willing to do so, I can't refuse~" I chuckled, exiting the Agency with Yosano-sensei.

[calliecat93]

When I was fifteen years old, I found out about Star Trek: The Original Series. Back then, Star Trek as I knew was only The Next Generation, and I was apathetic about that. I found out through simple curioaity, but I had nothing to better to do so I looked into it. It sounded kind of interesting, so I found the show on Hulu and decided to give it a shot. I quit midway through the third episode. I saw it as old, cheesy looking, and dumb. Why waste my time on something old? Over the years, the more I got involved in online fandom culture, the more I would see it pop up. The more I would ehar about how having PoC inr egular roles was revolutionary just because it showed that they existed. How the show enrained so many science fiction tropes and ideals into modern Americn media in the vein as Dotor Who has in Britian. Heck a review show I used to watch went over the comic adptations of the films, and came off as so passionate about the franchise that I remembered my previous stance. Remembered how I threw it aside as a relic of the past, despite me even thn seeing the value as I valued classical animaiton and children’s media very highly.

IDK what provoked it, but in January of this year, I decided to watch the entirety of Star Trek. Maybe it was quarentine rentine making me snap. Maybe it was me giving in at last to those urges that had been prodding at me for years. Regardless, I made the choice, and it only made sense to begin with the one that started it all. I am now 28 years old. I have grown far more patient and respectful with the things that came before my time. Media holds a great deal of value and whether I understood it or not, Star Trek was vital to popular media. I was ready to give it a second chance. I expected to go in with a greater appreciation, but otherwise not have many strong feelings abou it. I got through those three episodes again with my feelings better than before, but not too different. But I was determined to keep going. So for two months, I watched episode after episode and this weekend I ended it with the original films. Now here we all at the end of the journey. How do I feel?

I felt very regretful for throwing it aside the way that I did.

I greatly enjoyed TOS. Far more than I had ever expected. It is very much a product of the 60’s. There was a limited budget and it showed, though they made the most of it. There were many ridiculous plots, rampant sexism, and hammy acting that is utterly laughable. Some days I could go along with it, other days I just wanted them to get it over with. And yet, none of it kept me away. There were ideals revolutionary for the time like PoC standing equal to others, themes of all kinds such as anti-war and humanity, great science fiction concepts that may be standard today but don’t rob them of their enjoyability, and so much fun but also many moments that made you think. But most of ll, it had such lovely characters. For me to care about a show, I have to care about it’s chracters. I knew a few things via pop culture, butt hat’s not the same as understanding them as a viewer and media can frequently exaggerate the reality. And as I found out, there was far more to them than what mdia lead me to believe.

Kirk I only ever knew as a brave captain who made out with a lot of women. While that’s true, I can’t call him a reckless womanizing asshole. He was brave, optimistic, diplomatic, and charming. He could be light-herted, but also very much a devoted Starfleet Captain whose duty is his entire being. I was shocked at how much I grew to care about him. Seeing his triumphs, his failings, his strengths and flaws, even on an off day I cared about him. Even when William Shatner hammed it up too much, I enjoyed seeing him. Spock was who I knew the most about consideirng how popular he was and I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I also grew to love him. His logic, his struggle with his dual being as half Vulcan and half Human, his loyalty to Kirk and his dedicaiton to his duty. I could see why he meant so much to people, esecially witht he level of depth and work that Leonard Nimoy put into the character. There’s s amny little things that you begint o notce and it makes Spock feel all the more real. But by far the biggest appeciaiton I grew was for McCoy. He was the character I knew the least about aside form him being a doctor and remembering the first episode. But GOD I love his character so much. His crankiness, snarkiness, and his arguments with Spock were entertaining but seieng how compassionate, devoted, and caring that he is especially when I watched The Empath ahead of time and saw his sacrifice... damn. Not to mention DeForest Kelley’s perormance with him imo being the best peformer aside from Nimoy. He gave it hus all even during the dumbest episodes and that always earns my respect. I didn’t think I’d care about Bones that much, knowing him as that guy who’s more important than the rest but not even close to as much as Kirk and Spock, and he walked away as my absolute favorite character who I will continue to give the love and appreciate that he deserves.

The others were great too. Scotty was funny, great at his job, and the amount fo times he saved thm all via some miracle is to be admired. Sulu was significant for being an Asian man as a regular and in a high position, and I just loved having his prescence. Uhura being a Black woman treated as an equal by her white male peers and being a dedicated, sassy communicaitons officer as well as her lovely musical talents made her a delight. Chekov when he came along added a nice, youthful prescence without him getitg annoying and having a Russian as a hero at that time was also a big deal. While the show struggled BIG TIME with gender and feminism, it was major at the time for presenting PoC and those of other nationalities as equal to others, and the cast clearly did their best to make them feel like actual people. I respect that a great deal. We all should sot hat we can keep improving from there.

I didn’t expect to care. I expected to get the show over with and have something to occupy my time. And yet, I do care. I care about these characters. I care about the shenanigains that they get involed in. I worry when they get into distress even though I know that they’ll be fine. There were plenty of things I knew in advance like Spcok’s deaht in the movies... and I cried anyways. I knew that nothing long-term bad would happen in the series, yet I feared for the cast and their situaton anyways. I grew invested in them. In their relaitonships. The Kirk-Spock-McCoy dynamic was by far my favorite thing and it kept me wanting to keepw atching. Not to occupy my time, but because I genuienly wanted to see what they got into and how they got out of it. To see Kirk and Spock’s mutual respect and trust in each other. To see Spock and McCoy argue over logic and emotion and be wiling to defend the other, to see Kirk and Bones joke and be at ease with each other as the close longitme firends that the are, and just having the three together... it was such a perfect dynamic. Hell I didn’t expect to ship anything aside form maybe Spirk due to knowing it’s significance to fandom, slash,a nd the LGBT+ community. And I came away shipping all three dynamics...a nd veering on all three together, but IDK if I’m quite there yet. But whether shippy or platonic, their relaitonship together is perfect and I loved it.

Now, the journey is over. Oh I plan to go back and do it all over again. I plan to pay even more atteniton. I plan on giving each episode as good of an analysis as I can give. I plan to try and seek out things like the novels and the comics so that I can have more itme with them. I plan to watch the reboot films to see what happes in a different universe. I plan to watch TNG and hope that I enjoy those charactrs that I ignored my entire life just as much as I did these. But for now, it’s over. It is a ride that I am thankful to have taken. I came in indifferen, and am leaving a fan looking forward to whatever else awaits. Thank you Star Trek TOS for this amazing two month journey. Thank you tot he cast and crew who put so much into it despite everything working against them. Thank you to the fans who watched it and kept it alive for all of these decades. And to those who read tot his point and all of my watchthrogh posts, thank you for sitcking with me. It was, without doubt, an experience that I’m never going to forget.

[thebestestboyo]

Based on @loveceit 's P!ATD Prompts!

"I lost a bet to a guy in a chiffon chiffon skirt."

Or

As I like it call it:

How Remus Ended Up Working For Patton

Masterpost

(Warning of: Drug mentions/alcohol/drinking, Remus making bad decisions)

(if I need to tag anything else, please do tell me)

As the resident disaster man of the Driftwood apartments, it was common for him to come stumbling into the complex at insane times of night and early morning, out doing who knows what. Remus himself only remembers half of his ventures, often told to him by his roommate Vee, or known by most, Virgil.

Most times, he'd come home around two in the morning. Four was much more rare. And very occasionally, he'd show up at nine, passed out in front of the door, due to him being so exhausted that he couldn't even take his keys out. But no matter what he did, or how long he stayed out, he'd always come back. While it was always followed with a killer headache and potentially some injuries, he always came home. Sorta like a stray cat that you're not really sure exists when you aren't looking at it.

Yeah. He was that kind of person.

At this point, Vee was just focused on making sure he made it back in one piece. The two of them had been friends longer than either of them could ever remember, and if Virgil had to babysit Remus sometimes, it wasn't as if it was anything out of the ordinary.

So, when he had the time (and the patience), he'd go out with him, mostly to make sure he didn't pick too many fights with the gangs or their city. Downtown especially was the worst place to be when it was dark out, they were like hyenas, just waiting for someone to set them off. Vee kept him out of that area, and usually, back by eleven if he was lucky.

As much as Remus loved his childhood friend, the fact that he needed someone to look after him often rubbed Ree the wrong way. He was an adult after all, he should be able to keep himself out of trouble well enough right?

Wrong.

Now, it wasn't as if Remus didn't know that it was dangerous, but this particular night, he just didn't care. Pent up from work and needing to go out somewhere, he struck up all his usual places to unwind, but nothing was working like it usually did. Not even the weird scientist's lab on 24th Street! And he let Remus play with pig intestines! That usually always cheered him up!

So, like any force of nature, Remus decided to head downtown. He knew Vee thought it was dangerous going this late, but it wasn't like Remus was drunk or anything! And Virgil wasn't home either! So if he got back home ok, he'd never know!

These thoughts were what kept him from internally combusting (an interesting thought, Ree wondered what it would feel like) over the idea that Virgil would be worried about him doing this. It was flawed logic, but he wasn't exactly known for his straightforward thinking.

His attention was drawn almost immediately to the bright, dizzying lights of a bar, the neon sign spelling out 'What Do We Have Beer?' It was cheesy, and stupid, and yet, he couldn't NOT stop at a place that had a pun right in the title!

Stepping in, he didn't flinch at the reek of alcohol, nor the too-loud thump of the bass at the edge of the dancefloor, and not even the people practically eating each other's faces off in the dim corners of the bar. What did catch his eye, was a curly-haired man sitting on one of the edges of a table, his eyes closed as he listened to the music.

Now on any other day, he wouldn't have been drawn to this man. On any other day, he'd have probably looked past him to go cause havoc on the dancefloor, or sip something much too strong for him at the bar. And yet, today wasn't a typical day. So, he indulged himself in this man's company.

That was his first mistake.

The guy didn't open his eyes at Remus's approach, too enraptured in the music, which gave Ree plenty of time to take his image in. He seemed out of place in this loud club, his skirt, what Remus assumed to be chiffon (if Vee's fashion rambling served him correct), flowed down to his knees, while his sweater was clearly handmade, as evident from the several loose stitches in the material. It was odd, seeing someone so innocent-seeming in this sort've place. Though, Remus had seen much more naive-looking people in clubs, going nuts for a high.

"Can I help you kiddo?"

It was jarring to hear the guy talk to him, especially with that voice. Why was it so sugary? Who the hell calls a grown man kiddo??? This guy couldn't be older than twenty five! Not that Remus was much older, barely twenty six as it was.

"I'm not sure yet! First time coming here and I'm not exactly amazed." It seemed to Remus like any other nightclub, minus several guards and Remus having sneaked several seagulls in moments before. (Even Dee was impressed by how silent they were until Remus let them go and terrorize the guests.)

"Oh? Is it not intoxicating enough for you?"

"Mm, nah. Mine usually includes more chaos." Remus stared off at the dance floor, before realizing what exactly Patton had said. "Did you just make an alcohol pun?"

"Yep! I'm surprised you heard over the music! It's bass-ically deafening with how loud it is."

This time Remus noticed, laughing as he leaned against the wall next to the guy, intrigued. "You like puns huh?"

"How pun-ctual of you to notice!"

"So what's a bunny rabbit like you doing with a bunch of pirahnas? This doesn't seem too much like a thing you'd be too into."

"Mm, it's good for a business point of view. Get to know people, you know?"

"Usually my getting to know people ends up with something going haywire, like...oh! Like that one time I got a bucket of squid ink and I was planning on dumping it on this one assbutt's car, but I ended up getting it all over myself instead. So I decided, why waste perfectly good squid ink, and just threw myself into his car instead! Vee made me take a shower before I could touch anything after. "

The guy glanced up at him in confusion, but he wasn't scared off yet, so this was considered a success in Remus's book. "Squid ink?"

"Yeah! My nerdy pal Lo gave it to me! He was studying something or another with squids, and he didn't have any use for it after, so I got it! It dyed my outfit grey!"

This time was even more successful, considering he laughed at Remus's antics, and prompting Ree to continue on his train of thought. "Why was he studying squids?"

"Well, I think it was because squids can change colors, and he wanted to see if that could be replicated. I think it would be more interesting if the tentacles could be grown on humans! Imagine, you could do so much..."

Remembering that this guy didn't even know his name, he elected to change that immediately. "My name's Remus! I should have started with that actually."

"Patton!"

"No! I'm Remus!"

"No, I mean, my name's Patton!" He smiled, giggling again at him. It was almost mesmerizing to listen to, even if it was soft under all the background noise. "Its nice to meet you!"

Remus had to pinch himself to snap out of staring directly at Patton's mouth, enchanted by his smile. "Nice to meet you too. Can I get you a drink?"

"Sure! I know the bartender actually, so we can go together!" Grabbing Remus's arm lightly (and nearly causing to jump at the easy touch), he led him over to the counter, his hand still resting on Ree's arm even when the two of them had sat down. "Can I get a blueberry mocktail please? Remus what do you want?"

"Mm...surprise me."

That was his second mistake.

Remus wasn't exactly sure what was in the drink, but it got him feeling fuzzy, and that's all that mattered. "So how do you know this place?"

"My brother has business deals here, so he started bringing me along sometimes."

"Business deals? What sort've business would have place in a club?"

Stirring his drink with the straw, Pat looked off into the haze of people. "Oh, just normal stuff."

"That's pretty vague Patty."

It was clear he didn't want to talk about it, even as Remus continued to get drunker (despite his previous ideas). "Well, it's boring! I'd rather play a game than talk about business!"

"Aaaaaand what kind of game would that be?"

"A bet."

Nearly snorting his drink in surprise, Remus burst out laughing. "A bet?"

"You heard me!"

"Sorry, it's just-" He gestured to how out of place Patton looked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "What sort've bet were you thinking? Is someone gonna end up puking or attacked by rabid animals by the end of it?"

"Mm, depends on how well you can hold your liquor. I bet you can't beat me in a drinking game. Winner gets to choose his prize."

"You're on."

That was his last mistake.

Remus lost. By a lot. For the guy who ordered a mocktail right off the bat, he definitely wasn't a lightweight.

"I, I gotta say-" Remus was bent with his head against the table to steady himself. "I am surprised!"

Patton was a giggly mess even in spite of winning, leaning into Remus. "Yep! You-" His sentence was cut off by a hiccup, in which caused another fit of giggles. He didn't even seem to notice that his sweater sleeve was slipping off his shoulder, or that he had somehow lost one of his sandals.

Remus sat up dizzily, attempting to fix the sleeve, only to remember too late that his motor skills weren't exactly in the best conditions while drunk, so it was more like Remus fell into Patton instead, causing the two of them to tumble to the ground. It was a good thing that it wasn't too far of a drop, but even so, Remus was pressed into Patton in an awkward position.

A stern voice interrupted the two of them before Remus could get his thick tongue to apologise to Pat, edged with something sharp.

"Patton...what are you doing on the floor with this...man?"

"Oh hey Dee Dee! How was your-" he wiggled his eyes playfully, clearly showing this Dee how drunk he was. "-meeting?"

"It went fine, but I don't think the best use of your time is getting drunk with random men at the club while I'm working."

"He's, not random!" Patton had by now began to play with Remus's hair, not even bothered by the fact that the two of them were still on the floor. "His name is, Reeeemus. He's my new friend! I won him!"

Even though Remus was drunk, he could still tell that it was probably not the right way to explain how they ended up there to this big, probably dangerous guy. He couldn't see much of him considering his head was resting on Pat's chest, but his boots looked awfully nice.

"I like your boots."

This...Dee? Was it Dee? Snapped his attention down to Remus, picking him up easily by the back of his collar. "So you won this...mongrel? In a bet I suppose?"

Pat was too busy trying to grab Remus back to be paying attention, so Remus got a face full of Dee's words. "I suppose he could be useful...fine. You can keep him for now." There was a sudden pinch at Remus's ear, and he could feel something metal dangling from what seemed to be a new piercing??? Wtf???

"You're too drunk right now to be of any use though. Pat do you know where he lives?"

"On a mountainnnnn with fairies and unicorns!"

"Ok so that's a no."

Remus felt he ought to be part of this conversation, considering that this Dee was asking about him, after rudely lifting him up. "Why do you wanna know tall guy?"

"Oh you can still speak. That's good. Tell me where you live and you can go back there to do whatever it is you do to not be drunk."

"I ain't telling you! You don't know it's Driftward....wait that's not right. Driftwand? Drift...drift..."

"Driftwood?"

"Yeah! You don't know it's there! And that's how it's gonna stay!"

Unfortunately, this plan did not go as Remus intended, because sooner than the drop of a hat, he was put in a car along with Pat, driven to his complex, and left out by the entrance. When he tried to look back and see exactly what this Dee guy looked like, he could only see Patton, waving to him drunkenly through the window, before Remus blacked out.

He was having a lovely dream about gore and destruction when a sudden voice caught his attention. Or, well, tried to anyways.

"Remus?"

"Hey, Remus."

The sound was annoying to what he assumed was the beginning of a headache, so he tried to tune it out.

"Remus wake up."

Was it his alarm clock? No...his alarm clock didn't scream his name to wake him up...and it usually didn't sound so pissed off.

"Ree!"

Aaaand now he was awake he supposed. "Yeah...?"

Virgil stood above him, hands on his hips. "Where the fuck were you??? I come home and you aren't here until five hours later? And did you go and get a new piercing? And...throw up on the front step of our apartments?"

His memory was still pretty fuzzy due to how much alcohol he drank, so he seemed just as surprised as Virgil was that he was in this situation. "Hey, quiet down if you could. My head hurtssss."

"Your head wouldn't hurt if you weren't out however late. Seriously though, where were you?"

His hand went to his temple, trying to soothe the pounding in his head. His fingers caught on something jangly, surprising him. "What the-"

It was definitely a new earring. Gently attempting to take it out, he looked at the words on the dangling part, confused. "Who the hell are the Andacondas?"

Virgil stiffened, seeming scared. "Remus, what did you do?"

"I lost a bet to a guy in a chiffon skirt?"