#thread: stop antagonizing

[nxttheendxfthestxry]

Hemlock smiles and waves once she finally finds her sister. "Your rescue team is here! Please stop antagonizing Wisteria and Lysandus in the group chat, I beg you." - ( @storystartsanew )

Cora looks back, pausing and letting her jaw drop in sheer offense. "I beg your damn pardon? Me?! Me, stop antagonizing them-- this whole fucking thing started because I can only assume Wisteria said she's been sitting there WATCHING ME SLOWLY WANDER IN FUCKING CIRCLES!"

She sighs, crossing her arms and shaking her head. "Can we please just go?"

[rawliverandgoronspice]

trying to assign instruments to gerudo characters for thralls' soundtrack. Nabooru is getting the sitar so far, as I think she's good at representing the gerudo side that's closer to the Wild Era in terms of long-term vision for gerudo prosperity, not to mention that it works great for a more laid-back character; though Iftaah could also get that aspect, even though her perspective is a little bit more desperate and a little less actually strategizing about diplomacy and commerce in the way that Nabooru's is... not sure I have nailed down the perfect instrument for her yet though? Maybe a duduk, for its plaintive quality and capacity for softness? But I don't know, I feel like there could be something better out there. Saeruk and flamenco guitar seem pretty great fit for the versatility of the instrument, both harsh and defiant, playful at times, but also extremely sad if needs be, and the fact that she represents more the "older" kind of gerudo works well with more hispanic/romany inspirations. And then there's Aveil, who I feel represent the best the connection of the gerudos to their land, and I'd love an instrument that really represents that. Still looking for that one.

There's a bunch of fun things for Ganondorf that can be done, but I think he'll get... bigger instruments, in general. And church organs are quite versatile too it turns out. :) I like the marimba from his first phase boss battle, but it's a little too... I don't know, I feel like it lacks the roundness and depth and imposing quality that we could get with other picks. But Ganondorf so far has about *eight billion* leitmotifs going on with what I have selected for him (him and Ganon's, as they are... not exactly separate entities in the story, but sort of, it's kind of weird), so it might be more a case of actual melody rather than instruments, or maybe on top of instruments that swap in and out depending on what we want to invoke...

Sorry, rambling, but I would really love to compensate for my lack of voice actors with a pretty meaningful stab at the soundtrack. I feel like I kind of have to honestly. ;;

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

I’m having too much fun with this someone stop me—

Important to note that I have wanted a speech-capable bird as a pet for pretty much my entire fcking life and have yet to have had the opportunity. Parrot, crow, raven, I care not, just. Chatty bird please.

I did get to meet a parrot one time when I took my niece trick-or-treating and I was dressed as a pirate who tf woulda guessed right not like I have a ton of clothes in my closet that I can use to throw together an impromptu pirate costume at a moment’s notice or anything hahahahaaaaanyway, and one of the people handing out candy was this older gentleman dressed as a pirate WITH AN ACTUAL FUCKING PARROT AND I GOT TO HOLD IT ISTG I ALMOST CRIED

My niece and I got extra candy out of the deal, too. Best Halloween ever.

ANYWAY. Writing a character in animal form is always a shitload of fun, and I am living for this nonsense.

And how mad this sassy mfer is going to be when he figures out what's going on SCREEEE

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader

Ch.5 of who even fcking knows,probably at least seven at this point

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time.After finally arriving at Kuraigana Island after months of training, you discover that the Red Hair Pirates are also docked there while their Log Pose syncs and they repair their ship after a small battle...and, on the verge of fighting with Mihawk after spending the past half an hour or more taunting him, Shanks is the first to notice you perched in a nearby window in your devil fruit form.

Previous chapter, First chapter

Next chapter

SFW for now, but not in later chapters

No Trigger Warnings in this chapter. Possible future Trigger Warnings for imprisonment, mild torture (definitely psychological, maybe physical)

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later

Word Count:3,618

Taglist:@i-am-vita

♫♬Acid Jazz Singer- The Fratellis♬♫

And it’s one time, keep it slow, wind them up and here we go

Get it right today and you may still be here tomorrow

Your entire world slowed around you as you considered the situation you had just embedded yourself into. Not one, but three powerful pirates, two of whom were staring straight at you.

One of whom looked as though he had just won his weight in gold at the mere sight of you.

Your act, you had to remember your act, your persona, a simple pet of one of many ill-fated pirate crews on the Grand Line. Fear was surely still a reasonable enough reaction to the sight before you, then.

So, without another thought, you ruffled your feathers out into a defensive stance, throwing your head back and flapping your wings rapidly, shouting, “Danger! Danger! Danger—”

“Oh—no, no, no, no, no danger, it’s—stop that, I’m busy—”

Shanks shoved Mihawk’s sword away and slowly sheathed his own sabre, holding his hands up as he slowly inched toward the window you were perched in, as if to show that he posed you no thread.

“It’s fine, we’re all friends here,” said Shanks went on softly, hands still raised, inching ever closer to the window of the castle you remained perched in. You took a cautious step back in spite of yourself, your eyes darting around, quickly assessing the situation at hand.

Mihawk was all but gawking at Shanks in a mix of utter disbelief and quickly growing rage—Shanks had, after all, spent the past half hour antagonizing him into a fight, only to withdraw the moment he was distracted.

Beckman’s gaze remained far more level, his brow furrowed as he watched your reaction to Shanks’s approach.

So you quickly ducked backward into the darkened room of the castle behind you, hiding behind the corner.

“N—no, no, don’t hide, it’s alright—we were just having a little a fun, isn’t that right, Hawkie?”

“I swear to God, Red-Hair—” you heard the other pirate respond through gritted teeth, clinging to the wall just inside the window with your talons, your heart racing.

“See?” Shanks went on, ignoring his murderous tone. “Just a little fun, that’s all, you’re safe—”

You stared in growing trepidation as he reached his hand slowly through the window, and the moment it was an inch away from you, you bit down hard on one of his fingers.

“Ow—” He pulled his hand back in an instant, and you could practically hear him pouting when he spoke again. “...it bit me.”

“What the hell did you think it was going to do, join your damned crew?” said Mihawk, giving a derisive scoff.

“Yes,” said Shanks, defensively.

“No,” said Beckman firmly.

“But—!”

“I spend enough time cleaning up your messes, I’m not cleaning up bird shit all over the ship on top of it.”

“I’d clean up after it.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Oh, come on—Hawk-Eye, you’re part bird, help me get it—”

“I’m not part bird, you complete moron,” snapped Hawk-Eye. “Get the damned thing yourself.”

Shanks was quiet for a long moment as you fought to gain control of your breathing, to calm your racing heart...and then—

“Fine, if you wanna clean up bird shit all over your castle—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake…”

You heard quickly approaching footsteps following the irritated grumble, and part of you considered ducking further back into the castle...but you knew you couldn’t. You shouldn’t. This was your opportunity.

A moment later you let out a strangled squawk as his hand closed around your neck and he jerked you away from the wall you were clinging to. He held you out at arm’s length, still scowling. Shanks slumped back against the castle wall, still pouting. “How come it didn’t bite you?” he complained.

“Because I was smart enough not to give the damned creature a chance to,” he shot back, tossing a brief glare at Shanks before turning his yellow eyes back on you.

You steeled your nerves before tilting your head to the side and blinking a few times, and forced out in the most chipper tone you could muster, “Hiya!”

Shank’s jaw dropped in borderline outrage, but Mihawk only lifted an eyebrow. Beckman gave an amused scoff as he ashed his cigarette. “Looks like you made a friend, Hawk-Eye.”

“That’s not fair,” said Shanks, pushing away from the castle wall and approaching. “I was being nice and—”

As he drew closer, you ruffled your feathers out again, shouting, “Danger! Danger!”

“I’m not the dangerous one, he is!” Shanks shouted back, gesturing at Mihawk.

“Yelling probably isn’t going to help, Cap,” Beckman pointed out, crossing his arms and smirking at the spectacle. Mihawk was still holding you at arm’s length as you continued shouting, his yellow eyes shifting between you and Shanks. He shifted his arm, holding you further away from the redhead, and you quieted down. Then, just as slowly, with the slightest spark of interest in his expression, he shifted you closer to Shanks again.

You immediately resumed shouting.

“I don’t think it likes you very much, Red Hair,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk at the dejected look that fell over Shanks’s face. Mihawk held you further away from him again, his grip loosened around your neck now, and you expelled a sigh, your feathers smoothing back down. You still remained tense, well aware that he could easily snap your neck in a moment’s notice if you made a single wrong move...but his amusement at Shanks’s disappointment was likely a good sign. If all you had to do was continue to insult him, then you were sure you could manage.

“Stupid bird,” Shanks complained, kicking at a piece of rubble and slumping back against the pile of stone next to Beckman, crossing his arms.

“I’m fairly certain there’s only one birdbrain in the immediate vicinity, Red Hair,” said Mihawk.

“Birdbrain!” you repeated, and his eyes shot back over to you as Beckman gave a snort of laughter. You tilted your head again. “Hiya!”

“...Hello,” he said dryly—and finally released you from his grasp without any notice, causing you to drop to the ground before you could so much as flutter your wings. You quickly hopped back up to your feet, ruffling your wings out a bit to shake the dirt off of them, and flew back over to the windowsill you had been perched in, turning your head around to preen your feathers while the three pirates watched you in bemusement.

“Strange creature,” Mihawk commented after a moment, turning and striding back over to the broken wall and taking a seat again.

“I don’t think they usually talk in wild,” said Beckman. “Probably came from a ship.”

You turned your head quickly at the word ship, squawking out, “Wind in your sails! Wind in your sails! Hard to port, boys!”

“Aaaagh!” Shanks groaned again, flopping his head back dramatically. “It’s not fair, I want it—”

“Birdbrain!”

“Oh, shut up,” he snapped, and it wasn’t entirely clear whether it was in response to your comment or Mihawk’s small chuckle of amusement.

“Well.” Beckman straightened out, stubbing out his cigarette on the crumbled stone behind him and flicking the butt away. “I think it’s pretty clear the locals don’t want us here, Captain.” Shanks tossed a glare at his first mate, but straightened out himself, arms still crossed over his chest, lips still pursed in a pout.

“Fine…” he sighed, his arms falling limp at his sides. He rolled his eyes over to Mihawk, quickly regaining his composure and giving his so-called ‘friend’ a debonair grin. “I look forward to our next little visit, Hawk-Eye.”

“That makes one of us,” Mihawk commented in his typical dry tone, laying his sword out across his lap again without so much as glancing up.

You watched from the corner of your vision as Shanks and Beckman disappeared into the shadow of the surrounding dense forest, relaxing only the slightest bit at their departure. You had managed to fool all three of them so far, and evidently made a good first impression on your target. That was good. That was progress. You turned your gaze back toward Mihawk slowly, swallowing, debating on your next move.

And froze when he lifted his head suddenly, looking directly at you as if he had sensed your gaze.

He then rolled his eyes and went back to detailing his sword.

“You’re free to leave any time,” he said.

You quickly perked up, letting out another excitable, “Hiya!” He let out a small growl of annoyance in response, grumbling something under his breath about that idiot Red-Hair, to which you responded, “Birdbrain.”

He let out another amused chuckle, before freezing and looking back up at you with a frown. “Stop that. Just—shoo.”

It seemed his annoyance stemmed more from his own reaction to you rather than toward your presence itself, from the fact that he was already interested in you and your presence seemed to threaten his solitary existence.

This could be a good thing, you decided. If nothing else, he was intrigued, and you knew you could work with that.

Once he had turned his attention back to his sword, you hopped down from the edge of the window and to the dusty ground below, keeping your eyes trained on the pirate as you inched slowly closer, sidestepping against the edge of the castle wall.

Freezing in place when his eyes shot toward you again.

Inching a little further, a little closer when he lowered his gaze again.

Freezing yet again when he looked up. He frowned at you for a long moment, standing still as a statue, your gray plumage blending you right into the stone castle wall behind you. Several tense seconds passed before he heaved a sigh, leaning back the slightest bit. “You’re a persistent little pest, aren’t you?” he said, lifting an eyebrow...and then slowly, almost reluctantly, he raised his arm, holding it out toward you.

Progress.

You fluttered your wings, flying the short distance over and landing on his forearm near his wrist, wrapping your talons around carefully to keep your balance. He lifted an eyebrow at you as you perked up and let out another enthusiastic, “Hiya!”

“Yes, hello,” he said, almost dismissively.

“Hiya!”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” he grumbled, shaking his head and running his free hand back through his hair. “What are you even doing here? Lost your old crew?” He gave a small scoff as you tilted your head. “What were they? Pirates? Marines?”

As if prompted, you immediately ruffled your feathers out around your neck, flapping your wings in agitation—”Danger! Danger! Dan—”

He jerked back the slightest bit at your reaction, and you snapped your beak shut at the sudden motion. He turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing, his expression more curious than annoyed. After a moment he spoke, almost carefully. “Pirates.”

He was testing you. You ruffled your wings a bit, and turned your head around, preening your feathers without showing the slightest sign of interest.

“...Marines—”

“Danger! Danger! Hard to port! Fire at will! Fire—”

“Alright, alright, enough,” he snapped, shaking his arm, wincing a little as you tightened your talons a bit. He heaved a sigh when you settled down. “I suppose it’s safe to assume you’re not particularly fond of...er, the bureaucracy.” He lifted an eyebrow as you loosened your talons, and inched sideways across his arm, your movements slow and cautious. “What are you doing?” You inched a bit further, keeping your eyes trained for any sign of him striking out—and you saw none.

A little closer, until you were nearly on his shoulder, deciding to push your luck to gauge his reaction.

You leaned your head back, and let out a dramatic, “Mmm-mwah! Pretty bird.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his expression deadpanning, blinking at you slowly.

“You’re worse than Red-Hair,” he said finally.

“Birdbrain!”

“Indeed he is,” he agreed—and then shook his head, shifting his shoulder toward you as if to shift you further away. “Why the hell am I talking to a bird—shoo already—”

You gave a startled squawk, shifting quickly back down the length of his arm, settling closer to his elbow and tilting your head to the side. His mouth fell into a frown, and he shook his arm a bit, in more an experimental manner than an aggressive one, testing your reaction again.

“Shoo,” he said once more, far less firmly.

You lifted one of your wings, ducking your head back behind it...and slowly lifting it to peak out at him, noting the small spark of interest in his gaze despite his best attempt to continue appearing annoyed.

“Pretty bird!” you exclaimed once more, a bit more quietly this time, before ducking your head back down behind your wing again.

He remained silent for some time, and you remained still, waiting for any sign of reaction from him. Finally he heaved out a long sigh, his posture relaxing again. You lifted your head to peak out over the top of your wing again as he looked at you with an irritated sort of resignation. “Yes, fine,” he said dryly. “Pretty bird.”

“Pretty bird!” You folded your wing back behind you, bobbing your head up and down a couple times, your own tension easing as he let out a quiet chuckle and shook his head. “Pretty, pretty girl,” you added, punctuating the statement with a low whistle.

“Oh, so you’re a lady, are you?” he said with a wry smirk. “I suppose I should apologize for my rudeness.” Despite his clear sarcasm, he gave another small chuckle, tentatively lifted his free hand toward you, and lightly brushed his index finger across the gray feathers at the side of your head. “You know, you’d likely have been far better off following that idiot Red Hair back to his ship.”

“Birdbrain!” you commented, tilting your head toward his hand as he gave a small snort of amusement.

“Yes, the birdbrain,” he agreed with another light chuckle, his wry smirk shifting toward a small, genuine smile. He went on stroking your feathers idly for a moment, shaking his head. “And what, precisely, am I supposed to do with you?”

If nothing else, it was comforting to know that his violent nature didn’t extend beyond humans. He was warming up to your presence far more quickly than you had anticipated he might, but your own knowledge was limited solely to the intelligence the Marines had gathered from his reign of terror and bloodshed across the vast expanse of the Grand Line. His interactions with Shanks suggested he certainly preferred a solitary existence, and that his initial dismissive attitude toward your presence may have been more for show than anything, for the very sake of keeping up his reputation.

Nothing about his present demeanor suggested any of that. The fondness in his eyes as he surveyed your own reactions was almost comforting in itself, almost familiar—you had seen the same look in you mother’s eyes when she cared for the birds at the aviary, felt the same fondness for the creatures when you helped look after them.

It took some effort for you to remind yourself that you were dealing with an incredibly dangerous pirate, dangerous enough that the World Government considered him a threat.

“Pretty bird!” you said again, cooing the words out, watching as he let out a huff of amusement.

“What a vain creature you are,” he commented, smoothing back the feathers at the top of your head. “Though I doubt you can survive on compliments alone. And if Beckman’s correct, you’re likely not suited to living in the wild...the humandrills don’t particularly take kindly to any new creature in their territory…” You only tilted your head in response as his words turned toward introspective mutterings, his mouth turning down into a thoughtful frown.

At length he let out a sigh, rolling his eyes and lying his head back for a moment. You tensed as he stood up, lifting his sword with one hand and resting it back across his shoulder, clearly making an effort to hold his opposite arm steady in front of him as you remained perched there, still frowning at you with an air of resignation.

“I suppose I have some reading to do if you aren’t going anywhere,” he said.

You could hardly believe your luck as he shook his arm out slightly, directing you to shift over to his shoulder. You followed the wordless instruction quickly, your talons grasping lightly at the fabric of his shirt to keep your balance as he stooped down to pick up his plumed hat. Rather than the obstacle that Garp and Bogard had assumed they would be, the brief presence of the Red Hair Pirates on the island had practically ensured your initial success at winning over the otherwise reclusive target of your mission.

If you managed to come out of this mission alive, you were going to be certain to rub that in both of their faces.

Minutes later you were perching in one of the high windows of the castle, watching as Mihawk drew his fingers across the rows upon rows of dusty books in the orange glow of the candlelight in the library, his head tilted and his sharp yellow eyes scanning across the titles etched into the spines of the innumerable tomes.

“Nothing about birds so far,” he said, mostly a quiet utterance to himself, but he still glanced toward your silhouette in the window as he spoke. “I do hope you don’t end up being more trouble than you’re worth, bird.”

You ruffled your feathers a bit, tucking your head down and nearly closing your eyes. He gave a small scoff at the sight of you relaxing, rolling his eyes before resuming his meticulous perusal of the books in the library.

“You’d best hope I find something if you don’t want to starve to death,” he commented. “I have no intention of going out of my way to accommodate you.”

“Pretty girl,” you responded, along with a brief series of kissing noises and a low whistle, and you would have been smirking yourself if you could have when he let out a quiet, amused chuckle in response to your commentary.

“Yes, yes, we’re all aware you’re a pretty girl,” he responded airily from behind a row of books.

Some time passed before he finally gave up, propping his sword against one of the many shelves and falling back into an armchair near the empty fireplace at the center of the room. You hesitated at your perch on the window for some time, watching him run a hand back through his dark hair in clear, stretching his arm out across an arm of the chair and strumming his fingers, his lips turned down in a thoughtful frown.

You finally decided to join him there, flapping your wings a few times to gain enough momentum to glide over and perch at the edge of one of the arms, tilting your head when he glanced over at you, waiting to see whether he would shoo you off or welcome your presence. He frowned at you for a long moment, before finally rolling his eyes and holding out his hand.

“Troublesome creature.” His tone was still light, almost affectionate, his mouth curving into a small smile as you crept from the edge of the chair to perch on his arm. “I suppose I do need to make port for supplies soon. It wouldn’t be too much of a hassle to learn a bit more about you, would it, pretty bird?”

“Pretty bird,” you responded, inching closer, settling yourself just above his elbow.

He brushed his knuckles against your feathers at the side of your head, giving a small chuckle as your eyelids drooped in response to his touch, before tucking his hand behind his neck and shifting back into the chair, his eyes slipping shut.

“Yes, pretty bird,” he repeated in a resigned sigh, his tone quiet and almost gentle.

Your eyes slowly drifted back open, watching him as he relaxed, your mind racing in spite of your own exhaustion. You hadn’t expected it to be this easy. Your target was supposed to be a terrifying, murderous sociopath with no regard or concern for any life apart from his own, an enigma that the Marines regarded as an unfeeling monster. Instead you found yourself staring up at a perfectly normal, albeit somewhat reclusive man, his mouth still curved into a small, fond smile in response to your presence. His smile lingered even as his breathing grew slower and deeper as he drifted off to sleep, just as your gaze lingered on his features.

He had been far kinder to you than the vast majority of your supposed comrades even had.

He could have easily snapped your neck the moment he first touched you...but he hadn’t.

Once more you shifted up his arm, perching yourself on his shoulder, and just to test his reaction, you nuzzled against his neck.

He lifted a hand in his sleep to absently swat at the disturbance, his expression twitching toward irritation for a moment—and then softening as his hand settled lightly into your feathers, his fingertips brushing across your wings before his arm fell across his lap, still fast asleep.

Little as you liked it, you were quickly becoming as interested in finding out more about him as he seemed to be interested in learning about you.

You liked it even less that you already felt comfortable enough to let your own eyes drift shut, the sound of his own slow breathing lulling you toward sleep.

Next chapter link again, for your convenience

[jq37]

Just to throw my two cents on the Rat Grinder discourse: They weren't worth the Intrepid Heroes' time. We didn't get the full picture of what's going on with the Grinders until the last quarter of the season. Before that they were just this other clique that hate the main characters, so in-character why would the Bad Kids bother giving them so much attention when they've got so much of their own crap going on. Kristens quest to get Cassandra back and her presidential campaign, Gorgugs courseload, Riz's million and one plates that he's been spinning all season, Adaines financial problems, Figs curse and her doubts about what she wants to do with her life. Fabian's the only one who might have had the time, but he had to be Maximum Legend. There genuinely was no time or even an incentive on the IH's side to develop the Rat Grinders characters.

I still think it's fucked up that these teenagers got taken advantage of by adults they trusted, but we didn't learn any of that until we only had two roleplay episodes left. Too little too late to even try anything diplomatic even if they didn't spend all their time after the Last Stand in hiding.

And a thing about Ivy that no one is roasting her about and really should: An elven archer? Really? Wow, never seen that before.

Yeah totally. Like, from a meta level, I see where the players themselves could have been more curious about the Rat Grinders. There are obvious plot threads that could have been teased out there (though, in fairness to the cast, the adult manipulation aspect didn't become clear until way later in the season--the rivalry and foil aspects were more obvious). This final confrontation could look really different if they'd played that all the way out all season.

But in character? The Bad Kids really didn't have a good reason to waste time on the Rat Grinders. They came into this school year already burnt out from their Night Yorb quest and wanting a break. But they don't get that because they immediately are beset by problems they have to deal with--Kristen's god is on death's door from neglect and she's on the brink of expulsion, Riz is running himself ragged trying to boost his resume for college, Fig is having a whole ass existential crisis, Adaine is struggling with money issues she doesn't want to talk about, Gorgug is taking FOUR YEARS of school at the same time, and Fabian is multiclassing and dealing with his empty house/not having parental support (or Cathilda's support) for the first time. They are dealing with SO MUCH high stakes, personal stuff before the plot even kicks in. And, mechanics-wise, this is represented with the downtime system that means that any time they spend on the RG's is time they can't spend on something that matters more to them. IMO, not prioritizing your haters is actually pretty mature. Like, they weren't proactively using their free time to bully them or anything (except for arguably Fig). They were snippy with them when they crossed their paths and that was it. As opposed to the Rat Grinders who literally had to be told by Jace to stop antagonizing the Bad Kids (though they must have been pretty ineffectual at it because the Bad Kids hardly noticed, which I bet stung considering they were so obsessed).

And also, it's not like they didn't try at all with the Rat Grinders. Early Insight checks on Kipperlilly just got, "This is a polished steel orb of a personality" which doesn't sound very worth interacting with in a sympathetic way if at all and then the next big thing they learn is that she had hated Riz since Freshman Year and that she wants Riz and Kristen dead. And that's AFTER we saw her smile and kill her party cleric. In their position I'm not spending further time trying to empathize with this person, I have made my judgement and it's up to the Jawbones of the world to find if there's something in there to be rehabilitated.

And that's not the only case. Adaine straight up saved Ruben from disintegration during the Frosty Folk battle when she easily could have saved the spell slot, but that didn't soften him towards the Bad Kids any. Adaine also was really keen to Scry on the Rat Grinders to find out what was happening at their meetings. But, in scene at least, she was never able to do that so we never got a scene of them, huddled together, clearly unsure about the path they're on but not feeling like they can walk it back or say no to the authority figures in their lives. She didn't get anything humanizing that would cause her to rethink their position on them the way that she did with Aelwyn for instance. So why would they think they're anything but gleeful co-conspirators?

Hell, the one RG Adaine was even slightly curious about was Oisin and now we know that he was feigning interest in her which, man, can you imagine how much worse that would have felt if she'd actually taken the bait and pursued him beyond just thinking he was cute? Of course, it's possible that her interacting with him more along with some good charm rolls could have changed the narrative in some way but we can only go off of what we know to be true in canon and those facts are (1) He tried to get closer to Adaine while actively planning the downfall of her and her friends, (2) he (along with Ivy) was mean to Buddy behind his back while tricking him into a plan that would force him to go against his religious beliefs, and (3) he called his KVX related dragon ancestors to try to kill the Bad Kids and endanger the entire student body population. Three strikes, you're out. If I'm a Bad Kid I'm not super interested in whatever else is going on with him. And again, literally all of Adaine's friends (except Riz) gave her help to do an Insight check on him during their confrontation in the hallway so she was looking for something there worth engaging with, but she didn't get much.

Fig was fully doing CIA, MKUltra, Fantasy Geneva Convention violations on Ruben to try see if she could get information or flip him. I think she did it in an objectively insane way so I'm not entirely shocked that it didn't yield the exact results she was looking for. But she never found the smoking gun (or whatever the opposite of that is) in his head that would absolve him/show the Rat Grinders were being controlled and her messing with his dreams never flared his conscience enough to make him try to break free (as far as we know) which is what I assume she was going for. If I was Ruben looking for a way out but scared of the repercussions, I might go to Adaine who saved me from certain death earlier the same year and has helped saved the world 3 times with her party and their friends in high (and low) places. Maybe that's what Fig thought might happen but it didn't so from Fig's POV? Gave him a chance. Time to start blasting. And again, at that age, if I walked in to the first day of class and the first thing this random boy does is sneer at me and flaunt his musical success, I'm popping up on his Nemesis Alert at that moment. Doubly so after he tries to trick me and my friends into doing drugs so we get expelled. I'm surprised she tried at all with him.

Fabian absolutely tried to interact with Ivy--in large part for self interested reasons of course, but that doesn't change that he did it. And she came across as callous and unkind from the jump. Their final conversation before the latest episode is the one where she talks about wearing Mazey like a sweater and then says that Fabian missed his chance with her before stalking off. That's a pretty open and shut interaction. No way 17 year old me is like, "Hmm, but why is she acting so mean? Perhaps I should examine that more closely to further understand her." Nah, I've decided she sucks.

And Kristen has tried with Buddy literally up until the last moment. She rolled an Insight check on him right before the fight started and she got a 1. She got nothing from him.

Mary Ann is actually the only Rat Grinder who hasn't done anything to make a bad impression on the Bad Kids--the only thing she did was have a really good Bloodrush tryout. So no reason to hate her specifically (and, in fact, she is also the only Rat Grinder that at least half of them are positively obsessed with), but no reason to explore her further. And Kristen still tried giving her a stuffed animal and her response was that she already had that one and that she was going to give it away. What are they supposed to do with that?

Even when they tried, they didn't get information that was worth chasing when they were so busy and had to manage their free time. Gorgug didn't even slot in downtime to talk to his bio parents when they visited. Why would he spend any time on Mary Ann to figure out her deal? Maybe if they were given more explicit opportunities to interact with them in passing. If Mary Ann was shown at Bloodrush Games. If during class time Oisin tried to interact with Adaine. If Kristen ran into Buddy and Bucky talking. If any of their forays into talking to them or looking into them yielded anything actionable or that piqued their interest--they opened the door for Brennan to give them something more than once. But they never got anything that was worth investing more of their limited time into.

(And also, they didn't learn that Porter was involved until WAY into the last quarter of the episodes. Which absolutely could have changed things since, as far as they knew the RG's were working alone to raise this god which isn't crazy for them to think because Kristen literally did that last year and it was of her own free will. If they knew early that the RG's were smaller players in Porter's plot then maybe they would have been in more of a rescue mindset--especially since Fig has always mistrusted him--but that's not information they had and by the time they got it, the RG's were in deep hiding, like you said.)

And so, coming into the last few episodes, that's who the Rat Grinders are to the Bad Kids. A group of kids who they first heard about in the context of, "they famously hate you," even though they'd never interacted before. A group of kids who they already thought sucked even before they tried to kill the entire study body an hour ago. A group of kids who are trying to doom all of Elmville to eternal rage and who are willing and ready to kill them to do it.

With that context, yeah I think their actions are pretty understandable.

(Also, lmao. Yeah, I think calling Ivy basic would probably hurt her more than most things you could say to her.)

[its-time-to-write]

No disrespect to daddy jamie but childfree girlies want some crumbs too😩

Maybe reader and jamie babysit pheobe for a day and reader sees that jamie’s really good with her and she’s like oh fuck he probably wants to have kids of his own in the future. So inevitably she has to bring this up and she tells jamie that she doesn’t want to have children half expecting for relationship to end here but jamie’s being cool about it and it’s all good

If that’s too much feel free to ignore the details… i’ll settle for anything atp💌

Haha here you go! I forget that I have intense and incurable baby fever pretty much 24/7, and most people can’t relate😅

family that i chose

Jamie is really good with Roy’s niece, Phoebe. It’s sweet to watch them run around and antagonize each other, and usually you enjoy seeing them laugh. You love the way Jamie can unwind and seem truly carefree.

You’re not enjoying it today.

No, you’re sitting in Keeley’s backyard with a worried, far-off expression firmly affixed on your face. You’re so far off that Keeley has to call your name three times before you snap out of your thoughts and look at her.

“Where’s your head at?” she asks. “You look like someone killed your cat.”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing. I mean, it’s probably nothing. It’s not a big deal.”

Keeley settles into the chair next to you and leans toward you conspiratorially. “Roy’s got at least twenty minutes left on dinner, and Phoebe looks like she’s got a good handle on Jamie. Go on, spill!”

You shake your head again. “I just- he’s so good with her. And yeah, I like Phoebe. A lot, actually. Jamie does too and we’ve been together awhile, and it’s only a matter of time before he starts talking about having kids.”

Keeley nods, encouraging you to go on.

“I don’t want that,” you say bluntly. “I don’t want kids. I like them well enough, but I know that I know that I don’t want any of my own. I’m perfectly fine being the cool aunt who gets to send them back home to mum and dad at the end of the day. I have my own life and my own career, and I don’t see kids factoring in at all.”

Keeley asks, “So what’s the problem?” because she knows you’re ramping up to something.

You say, “I don’t want to break up with Jamie,” and Keeley nods.

“You think he’s going to dump you because you don’t want kids and you think he does.”

You slowly nod your head. “That about sums it up.”

“Have you even talking to him about it?”

You don’t respond and Keeley interprets your silence correctly. “Well then why the fuck are you worrying about something you don’t even know about? Just talk to him, babe! It’s not as scary as you think it is.”

You’d disagree. It is scary. You don’t want to lose Jamie, but you think it might be better to lose him sooner than later. Why form more of an attachment to someone who’s inevitably going to leave? —

You are decidedly not sober, but you’re also not drunk either, you’re just a happy, buzzing mix so the car ride from dinner back home is bubbly and golden. Jamie’s got some playlist on and you’re holding your hand out the window, threading it through the wind.

You’re upstairs brushing your teeth next to Jamie when you blurt out, “I don’t want kids,” then clap your hand over your mouth. That was not supposed to come out right now.

Jamie stops mid-brush and looks at you. He says, “The fuck?” all garbled through a mouthful of toothpaste.

Your face feels hot.

“I- I don’t want kids. I’ve thought about it before, and I don’t.”

Jamie spits out his toothpaste into the sink. “What makes you think I want them?” he asks, and the question is genuine.

“You’re so good with Phoebe,” you say. “Other footballers have families. Just look at the Beckhams.”

“Babe,” Jamie replies, “just because I like Phoebe doesn’t mean I want a kid. I want you, whatever that looks like.”

You say, “Oh,” in a small voice and Jamie laughs.

“Yeah, fuckin’ oh.”

“You want me?” you ask. Jamie rolls his eyes.

“Yes, you fucking nerd. What the fuck did you think we were doing here? Fucking around? We’ve been together for ages. I let you see my hair when it ain’t fucking brushed.”

That’s fair. 

“You’re proper buzzed, ain’t you?” Jamie asks. “You’re gonna have a massive fucking headache tomorrow.”

He’s right. Anything stronger than water wrecks you, but you still drink it anyway. 

“Gonna get you some water to drink before you go to sleep,” he says, then smacks your butt before heading downstairs. Keeley was right, it wasn’t as scary as you thought it was.

[thegirlwondcr]

Closed Thread w/ @cxpedcrusxder

Three days. She lasted almost three days at this new school without getting in trouble. Day one was filled with nerves and constantly adjusting to new and different things. Day two was when certain irritating people were on her radar. Day three was when she finally punched them.

Now she was sitting outside of the principal's office, holding an ice pack to her cheek and her hair an absolute mess with knots with gum in the center of it. She was waiting for Bruce to leave the principal's office to give her the final verdict and most likely take her home. She did feel guilty for having to make him stop his workday to come here and deal with the mess she was involved in.

Emma did try to stay out of trouble. To ignore any antagonizing thing some people might have said, but it built up so quickly. The next thing she was doing was throwing punches at two and a half people--one of the girl's boyfriends got in the way so Emma accidentally punched him. They seemed to play the victim card pretty well, acting like it was all completely unprompted--which was a lie--now Emma was the one sitting and waiting to hear what her future was here.

[yearningaces]

VALENTINES

if it isn't to late

Could I get a frankenstein type of monster with the prompt being first words

LSJSJJWQ

Honestly, I really enjoy the creator and creation vibes that Frankenstein has, however I always loathed the OG story how much of a coward Frankenstein actually was when faced with his creation

So here's what I'm gonna do. This is a new character, I'm gonna do this little blurb then write more for him when I'm not super busy with work 👍

Disclaimer: reader is briefly referred to in masculine terms

"It's abhorrent to the laws of nature, they said" your voice echoes across the vast lab you've built but by bit over the years, in an abandoned castle no less.

"His ideas are that of being so repugnant as to stir up positive antagonism!" Steadily your voice grows as you lug the newly claimed body parts across the tile flooring, the stench of rot soon to be scrubbed clean from the limbs as they're positioned just so on the metal table where your prize lies dormant.

Aeneas

The abomination of body parts dug fresh from graves towns near and far from your lab. Despite the creatures nightmarish beginnings, how you adored it already. "Hello, my sweet," you coo softly, peering down at the breathtakingly beautiful creature you've crafted so lovingly with your own two hands.

Placing down its right arm with a heave, you line it up to the creature's shoulder as you babble absentmindedly. "Took half a fortnight to find an arm that matches your demeanor, dear Aeneas, but when the butcher was buried I knew his arms would be strong enough, bulky enough to match your other arm perfectly."

With a curved needle and thread you'd received as gift for your hard work, you placed the severed arm carefully against the stump of its shoulder you began to stitch, carefully, slowly, maybe twice as many stitches than normal but the thread was tricky. It was as delicate as a spiders web, and yet stronger than steel cable. "And think, my dear Aeneas all of this possible because I aided a trapped fairy in her escape! Now I've this spool of thread that she said would bring you to life!"

You continue your work for hours, stitching the last limbs while talking mindlessly to the body You've created piece by piece.

Finally, after the final stitch, you let out a yawn. "Well, that will be done. Yet tonight I must sleep. We will continue this in the morning, Aeneas." With a pat to the hip of Aeneas, you leave the room.

You don't notice the thread glowing a faint golden light. You don't notice the body you'd stitched together take its first breath with closed eyes.

When you wake in the morning, returning to the lab with a slip in your step, you do notice something that sends your heart into a frenzy.

"AENEAS!!" There is no body on the metal table. No corpse, or body parts, no blood, no trace of the creature. You panic, rushing into the lab to see if you can find any trace of your beloved creation, scrambling around until-

One massive hand grips the back of your collar, stopping you in place. "H... Hello... my s- ... Sweet."

The broken voice that sounds like a beast having eaten a mouth full of gravel isn't what gets your attention first. It's the greeting... The same one you've always greeted Aeneas with, even if unintentionally so.

Slowly you turn and look up. It's eyes aren't the nice hazel eyes you scooped out of the hunter you found one day roaming the forest, they're bright gold and glowing just slightly.

The horror and the worry melts in an instant as you turn properly and reach both hands up to Aeneas's face with a bright grin. You note how confused Aeneas seems, peering down at you with a confused innocence as he mimics what he must have heard the most. "Hello, my sweet," you repeat.

And for a fascinating and heartwarming moment, this beautifully horrifying being you've crafted attempts to smile by muscle memory alone, closing its eyes slowly and leaning forward into your hands just enough with a strange rumbling resonating from it.

How sweet.

[im-a-wonderling]

Speaking in Tongues, Part 2 ~ Harry Potter

Summary: Harry teaches Y/N, the wild Ravenclaw, how to speak Parseltongue. 

Warnings: none

Word count: 3.1k

Here’s part 1 if you missed it!

Native to Southeast Asia, Large-eyed Pit Vipers, also known as Green Pit Vipers, are unique for several reasons. When the viper’s fangs aren’t in use, they fold back into the roof of the viper’s mouth. The viper doesn’t use its venom every time it bites, as venom cannot be regenerated quickly and is usually reserved for prey. Even if they regulate their venom, these rare snakes are highly venomous and endangered due to their popularity in the exotic pet trade. Ironically, Large-eyed Pit Vipers are known to be moody and strike if– 

“Oi, Harry!”

Harry jerked his head up. “What?” he said breathlessly, adrenaline shooting through his body, making his heart pound. “What’s wrong?”

Ron and Hermione, sitting across the table from him, shared looks. “You’re muttering to yourself,” Hermione said. 

Harry blinked, reorienting himself away from the world of words. 

Lunch in the Great Hall was in full swing. 

Professor Sprout was trying to stop a food-fight over at the end of the Gryffindor table, and from the looks of it, she wasn’t being successful. An avid debate was taking place between one bench from the Slytherin table and one from the Ravenclaw table, about what Harry couldn’t surmise, while a pair of Slytherins were eating their food as fast as they could, perhaps racing each other. A group of Hufflepuffs were rowdily playing what looked like Go Fish in the corner while another group laughed hysterically. 

Now that Harry was aware of his surroundings, the noise was nearly deafening. 

The threads of life were all around him, and yet nowhere in this tumultuous tapestry could Harry find Y/N. He’d looked for her during dinner last night, this morning, and again now, but she wasn’t seated at any of the tables. Did she ever eat? Or in all her curiosity, had she discovered a way to bypass the need for sustenance?

A young Hufflepuff girl looked up, made eye contact with Harry, and immediately ducked her head, her cheeks flushed.

Harry rolled his eyes. Apparently, nothing said ‘eligible bachelor’ like saving the world, and the world never let him rest. Every magazine and newspaper ran stories about his love life (which was quiet), ads for glasses that were supposedly the kind he wore (when clearly they weren’t), or pictures of Harry shirtless (he still didn’t know how they got ahold of those). The only magazine that didn’t was The Quibbler, because Xenophilius Lovegood preferred to share musings about whether Harry’s cologne was derived from Bundimun secretions. 

Harry turned back to his friends to see both of their heads cranked to the side like their left ears were made of lead.

“All You Need to Know About Snakes?” Ron read off. “What are you reading that for, you haven’t had enough of snakes?”

“A class.” Harry returned to the book.

–strike if antagonized. Another distinctive trait of these vipers are the ridges on the edge of their scales, making them rough to the touch. 

“Harry.”

Harry sighed, holding his finger to the page to mark his place. “What?” 

“It’s lunchtime, mate,” Ron said slowly. “Not study hall.”

“I’m not hungry.” Harry looked down, but before he could resume, the book got tugged away from him. “Hey!”

Hermione reoriented the book, her eyes sliding down the page. Ron poked his head over her shoulder. “Large-eyed Pit Vipers?” Ron read. “They aren’t even magical creatures.” 

Harry reached out for the book. “Your point?” 

“This isn’t on our curriculum.” Hermione would know, she was taking nearly every class available to seventh years. “Why are you really reading this?”

“No reason.” Harry avoided looking anywhere in the direction of the Ravenclaw table, but a flush crept across his cheeks. The flush only deepened when Ron raised an eyebrow. 

“Harry,” Hermione said, looking very serious, “is there something you need to tell us?”

Harry made a face. Someday, if Hermione had kids, they would be on the receiving end of the same question, and they would like it even less than he did. “Nope,” he said shortly. 

“Harry.”

“Considering I’ve asked neither of you about the mark on Hermione’s neck, I think we can all agree that there are some things we keep private.” Ron’s ears went red while Hermione’s hand flew to cover up what was obviously a hickey a centimeter underneath her ear. Clearly it was recent as Hermione hadn’t used a charm or even muggle makeup to cover it up. 

Harry shook his head, getting to his feet as he slung his bag over his arm. “I’ll see you guys in the common room later?”

Hermione, face still flaming, muttered something under her breath while Ron scratched behind his ear. 

Harry strode out of the Great Hall, ignoring all the eyes that trailed him out the door.

The eyes that followed him everywhere.

He let out a sigh as he climbed the stairs to get to the library. From the moment Harry entered the Wizarding World, he’d dealt with publicity, first because of his name and then because of his adventures. But now that he was no longer a boy, the publicity had changed. The wizards and witches who’d been hungry for details about him, pictures with him, and his autograph were now hungry for other things. More invasive things. Things that after the war, Harry wasn’t ready to give anybody. Not even Ginny. 

Ron and Hermione were now famous too, but Ron had always wanted recognition and Hermione used the attention for all her causes, like S.P.E.W.

All Harry ever wanted was normalcy.

He chuckled dryly to himself. Harry probably couldn’t recognize ‘normal’ if it set his robes on fire.

He entered the library just as Madam Pince walked past. “Shh!” she hushed.

Harry didn’t bother to respond. He simply passed her and went deeper and deeper into the library, finding a table in the corner. If he was going to be communicating with Eleanor and teaching Y/N to do the same, they needed to be as far away from judgemental eyes as possible. How would his fame in the wizarding world change if he was seen speaking Parseltongue? If there was a chance at being forgotten, even due to disgrace, Harry should’ve tried to teach Parseltongue sooner.

Harry nervously tapped the table, glancing at the clock.

Had Y/N forgotten they were supposed to meet? She seemed the scatterbrained type, so Harry shouldn’t have been surprised that she hadn’t shown up. Except that…she’d been determined to learn parseltongue, so determined that she’d practically strong-armed Harry into doing it.

Harry’s eyes slid to his bag and the book inside it.

Glancing around to make sure there was still no sign of Y/N, he pulled the book out. 

Like every other snake, Large-eyed Pit Vipers possess an unnerving stare due to their lack of eyelids, but individual to the Large-eyed Pit Vipers are the two infrared-sensing pits for which these vipers are named for. These pits between the viper’s eyes and nostrils allow them to sense heat signatures while they hunt for their prey in the dark of night. 

“Sorry I’m late.”

“Finally,” Harry muttered, putting the book down. “It’s past–” He stopped. 

Y/N slid into the seat across from him, carelessly dropping her school bag onto the floor with a resounding thud that didn’t sound like books. Judging by the rosiness of her face, she’d just come out of the cold, but melting snowflakes weren’t the only thing stuck in her hair. Twigs, a bit of moss, and…were those…dried caterpillars?

“You, urm, you have stuff in your hair.”

Y/N ran her hands once through the tangled mess, causing the debris to shift. “Did I get it?”

“No, you just–here.” Harry reached forward, delicately pulling all the bits of nature out. Where had she been? And how had she reached the library before the snowflakes could fully melt? The library wasn’t close to the courtyard or anywhere in the grounds. Was it a secret passage or had she come through a window?

“Thanks.” Y/N reached into her pocket and pulled out Eleanor, placing her on the table. “Okay, let’s start.” 

Oh. 

No faffing about with pleasantries, apparently. Straight to business. 

“Okay, um…” Harry looked at Eleanor, who was watching him intently. The book was right; her stare was unnerving. SeethaaSsssHathehhHathehhAyaeeh. 

The end of Eleanor’s tail twitched. SeethaaSsssHathehhHathehhAyaeeh SeethaaaHaaHasseeyHasseeyHaaaaaah, she replied. 

“What did you say?” Y/N cut in. “What did she say?”

“I said hello, and she said hello.”

“Say it again,” she demanded. 

SeethaaSsssHathehhHathehhAyaeeh, Harry repeated, trying to say it slower this time.

Y/N looked dead-on into his eyes. Ssssssehhhhhhhhhhhathhhhhhhhh.

Harry coughed to disguise his laugh. Eleanor, however, was far from amused. She wriggled closer to Harry, away from her owner, clearly caught off guard to hear Y/N attempting to speak Parseltongue, even if Y/N hadn’t actually said anything discernable. 

Y/N looked at Eleanor, then at Harry, and then Eleanor again. “What? What did I say?”

“Nothing really.”

His answer didn’t seem to satisfy her. Her eyebrows drew close together, creating a somewhat adorable pucker in between them. Sseettthhhhhhhayaaaa, she tried again. 

Eleanor’s head poked forward and started excitedly rocking back and forth.

Y/N looked up at Harry. “What did I say?”

“Um, well, you sorta said hello.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Sort of?” 

“An improper hello,” Harry said. 

“Say it the proper way again,” she demanded.

And that’s how it continued to go.

It might’ve been odious to continually switch between having a conversation, translating, and teaching, had it not been for Y/N’s focus. She approached it head on, without a care for incompetence or imperfection. She didn’t even seem to pay any attention to their surroundings, wholeheartedly focused on Harry and Eleanor.

Had Harry been enjoying himself less, he would’ve noticed he felt some sort of safe haven, a bubble of sorts in that moment. But for the first time in a while, he wasn’t thinking about the war, his friends, Ginny, his safety, Quidditch, his failing heart, nor anything else of material consequence.

Harry’s hand lay on the table, palm up to allow Eleanor—who was still off-put by Y/N’s attempts to communicate—to curl around his fingers.

Y/N screwed up her face in concentration. SethaSsHatheHatheAyaeeh.

Eleanor abandoned Harry’s hand, slithering closer to her owner with great excitement. HassayHasseeyAayaaSsssSeyythaaSsaah! Y/N broke out into a huge smile, not needing Harry’s translation to know she’d successfully spoken Parseltongue. She affectionately rubbed a hand down Eleanor’s scales.

Harry grinned at the two of them, a swirling sense of accomplishment making him feel a bit giddy. Even if her pronunciation was a little off, she’d succeeded in saying something. Maybe it really was possible for someone to learn Parseltongue. 

Y/N looked up at Harry, opening her mouth to say something, but her gaze jumped over Harry’s shoulder. 

“Miss Y/L/N!” came a shout, and it took Harry a minute to realize it was Madam Pince’s voice, which he’d never heard louder than a stern mutter. 

Y/N scooped up her bag. “Time to go!” Harry had just enough time to grab his own bag before Y/N dragged him towards the winding staircase that led to the next floor of the library.

“Why are we running?” Harry asked breathlessly, trying to keep up.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder as she climbed the stairs two at a time. “I’m technically banned from the library.”

Harry stopped to gape, but Y/N seized his arm and pulled him along just as Madam Pince came around the bookshelf. “Miss Y/L/N!” 

Harry hadn’t ever seen her look so displeased, and Madam Pince always looked displeased. He also didn’t know it was even possible for a student to be banned from the library, but if anyone could find a way to make the impossible possible, his money was on Y/N. 

“Miss Y/L/N, you have thirty seconds to leave, or I shall tell the headmaster!” Madam Pince screeched as they reached the second floor. 

“Maybe we should–” Before Harry could finish, Y/N sprinted towards the Restricted Section of the library. “Where are you going?”

The ravenclaw came to a skidding halt in front of the last bookshelf before the locked doors of the Restricted Section, reaching out to touch the shelves. 

“Are we hiding?” Harry asked, running to her side with a hand pressed to his aching chest as his overloaded and half-dead heart desperately tried to keep pace. 

Y/N shook her head. “We’re leaving.”

“Miss Y/L/N!”

Y/N glanced at Harry with a sideways grin. “Hold your breath.” Before Harry could ask or do anything, she pressed a notch in the wood, and then the whole world slid away as the ground fell out from under Harry. 

He let out a yelp as he slipped through a tunnel barely big enough to contain him. Indeed, as he rushed downwards through the narrowing tunnel, he wondered if he was going to get stuck.

He only just remembered Y/N’s advice and sucked in a large breath before the slick gray walls of the tunnel disappeared to reveal dazzling sunlight. 

And the next thing Harry knew, he was underwater.

He desperately held his breath, but he didn’t have much to hold. Already, his chest was building up in pressure, begging him for more air. But before Harry could get his wand, something large wrapped around his torso, trapping his arms. He fought, trying to free them, but the thing was pushing him upwards.

Then his head broke the surface, and he gasped, inhaling a great big breath. Looking down, he saw the thing around his body was a giant tentacle. 

The Giant Squid. 

Barely had the thought entered his mind before the giant tentacle propelled Harry through the water with so much speed, Harry nearly skinned his knees on the rocks of the lake when the water grew shallower. The tentacle released him, and Harry crawled the rest of the way, rolling onto his back on the shore. 

His chest was burning, the sign that he’d overdone it. 

“Thank you, Selva!” Y/N called from beside him, getting to her feet.

Catching his breath, Harry sat up and pulled off his right shoe, tipping it over to expel all the water. “The giant squid’s name…is Selva?”

“Squidish names aren’t like human names, silly,” Y/N replied, not even bothering to wring out her hair or her soaking robes. Instead, she drew out Eleanor from her pocket, who wound herself agitatedly around Y/N’s wrist.  “I call him Selva because he loves Selva shrimp. I had to bribe him so that he wouldn’t keep pushing me out of the lake when I was trying to talk to the Selkies.”

“I didn’t know–” Harry broke off with a wince, clutching his chest as his heart gave a particularly resentful throb. He took deep breaths like Madame Pomfrey taught him and the ache subsided. “I didn’t know you could feed the squid.”

He glanced up at Y/N to see her staring at him. “You have chest pain?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” Harry rubbed at his sternum.

Suddenly, Y/N was in front of him, dripping all over his robes. “Does it hurt worse with exertion?” she asked, reaching forward to prod Harry’s chest. “Do you ever feel lightheaded? Or dizzy?”

“Umm…” Harry looked down, feeling her fingers pressing down on the space between his collarbones. “Yes?”

“Does it feel like it’s beating out of your chest?”

“Er…sometimes?”

“What did Madam Pomfrey say?”

Harry just stared at Y/N, suddenly feeling suspicious. How would she have known he went to Madam Pomfrey? 

“You’re having chest pain, and you didn’t go to the Hospital Wing?” Y/N asked, arching a brow.

“Of course I went,” Harry snapped, not wanting her to think him any sort of idiot. “She doesn’t know what it is…exactly…”

Y/N lifted her brows. “She doesn’t?”

“No. It’s just one of the perks of coming back from the dead.”

Y/N froze, her wide eyes unblinking. “You came back from the dead?”

Harry stared back at her. Did…did she not know the story? Everyone in the Wizarding World plus their grandma knew Harry’s story. “Yes,” he said shortly, deciding he didn’t want to unpack it. “I did.”

Y/N didn’t react for a moment, and Harry feared she was just taking her time to figure out what burning question to ask first. Surely this girl, the most curious being he’d ever met, would ask him all manner of things about his strange resurrection. But then Y/N surprised him yet again: instead of asking anything or even opening her mouth, she sat down next to him. As he watched, she dug her hand into her book bag and drew out a jar. Then, with her eyes trained on the rocks, she started shifting through them, grabbing hold of a tubeworm that she must’ve spotted. 

Harry watched her, utterly bewildered by this person so much more concerned with a tubeworm than with a story about coming back from the dead. 

But then again…maybe it was wiser to focus on the living more than on the dead. 

As he watched her lift the jar to scrutinize the worm with her scholarly eye, Harry gazed at her, feeling his own curiosity rise.

Who was this girl, this student with such a violent hunger for information that never went to class and somehow got herself banned from the library? 

Y/N rotated the jar slowly this way and that as the tube worm wriggled so differently from how Eleanor moved. Harry had just decided that the Ravenclaw had forgotten all about him when she softly said: “We like to think we know all there is to know about magic.” She stowed the jar in her bag, fixing him with a grave stare. “We like to believe that when people invent new spells or create new potions or discover new creatures, it’s just us using what we already know in slightly different ways.”

Harry was extremely confused, but sensed she wasn’t finished yet and wisely chose to just stay quiet. 

“It doesn’t matter whether one is a muggle or a wizard…or a house elf…or a centaur or giant or vampire. It isn’t seemly to wonder so much about the unknown. And yet…” she trailed off, glancing out over the lake before her eyes roved over to the Forbidden Forest. Some sort of sparkle shone in her eyes, as if the very curiosity she spoke of was manifesting as diamonds. 

Harry got to his feet. “And yet?” he asked in spite of himself, so taken in by that sparkle.

“And yet,” was all Y/N said. “I’ll see you around, Potter.” And with that, she strolled away towards the forest, looking to all the world as though she was following a calling.

-

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle​ @valiantlytransparentwhispers​

[corrupted-bandages]

Will you ever stop antagonizing chuuya 🗿

-@pm-moon-starsteel

Your Chuuya isn't from my universe.

He was the one who started the whole thread after reblogging one of my posts. (And sending an ask.)

[eiloveir]

a real dumb idiot! | #sasunaru

no warnings, just some mild language! fluff incoming!

descending into the ocean’s lucidity, accompanied by the passage of time as the sounds of birdsong that inspires thoughts of liberation and flying above the clouds. the area is still, and the calm of the surrounds is progressively broken by each footstep. neither dared to break the silence as both of them caught in a hesitant standoff, each wary of the potential repercussions that their words might bring—the events, the fears lying dormant beneath their thoughts.

their breathing seemed hard as though they were afraid their feelings might be discovered by the air itself. every look they shared was an entreaty, an attempt to say what they were afraid to say out loud. they carefully considered every action to hide the outward appearance of the rising feelings.

should they gather the courage to express their feelings or simply let time slip by—llowing their fates to be dictated by fate alone?

“sasuke.”

“naruto.”

their eyes met fleetingly, their names hung in the air like mist over a quiet lake. naruto attempted to break the tension with a nervous chuckle, his attempt at punctuating the otherwise strained atmosphere. beside him, sasuke’s expression remained stoic.

the truth was, naruto found it difficult to confront sasuke, his longtime friend, in such fraught moments. the tension between them seemed to thicken with each passing second— a yearning and uncertainty hanging between them like a veil. was this how it was supposed to be among friends?

“do you have something to say?” naruto ventured, his voice a thread breaking through the silence.

sasuke’s gaze flickered, his jaw tightening before he shook his head subtly. the weight of unspoken words lingered, heavily. among all their friends, in all their experiences, this was the first time he had felt such unease—struggling to find common ground or even simple conversation. it wasn’t just nerves; it was a confusion that intensified whenever he found himself alone with sasuke.

as the seconds stretched into minutes, naruto felt the rapid thud of his own heartbeat, each pulse seemed to antagonize the silence between them. he wanted to bridge the gap, to dispel the awkwardness that hung thickly in the air. yet, words failed him—caught in the emotions that bound them together in this moment of uneasy tension.

“you called my name too. do you have something to say?”

unable to stop himself from uttering, sasuke found it impossible to stay silent for long. no matter how hard he tried to hide his feelings, they bubbled up, insistent and undeniable. he couldn’t lie to himself about how important the friend standing before him was. yet, admitting his true emotions was a step he wasn’t sure he could take. after all, weren’t friends supposed to remain just friends?

“eh? i just felt awkward, that’s why i spoke. do you have something to say?” naruto asked, arms crossed defensively. he had intended to say something, but his nerves had gotten the best of him, causing his thoughts to scatter. besides, he wasn’t sure he could voice his feelings even if he wanted to.

sasuke stood up from where he was sitting, looking down at naruto, who had his feet dipped in the water. he took in naruto’s attire: an orange t-shirt, yellow jorts, and crocs. a small smile tugged at sasuke’s lips. despite naruto’s questionable fashion choices, he found them endearing.

“cute.”

“huh?”

shit.

sasuke’s laughter halted abruptly as he realized what he had just said. his focus on naruto’s appearance now shifted to a feigned interest in the surroundings, his eyes darting around as if searching for something. naruto, however, wasn’t about to let it go. a smile spread across his face, sensing an opportunity.

“what did you say?” naruto asked, standing up and stepping closer, placing his hands on sasuke’s shoulders to turn him around.

“i didn’t say anything, you idiot,” sasuke mumbled, his face flushing slightly as he tried to deny it.

“liar! i heard you!” naruto teased, his grin widening as he playfully shook sasuke’s shoulders.

“i said you look cute, okay?” sasuke admitted, exasperated, his finger lightly poking naruto’s forehead. “happy now?”

naruto’s teasing grin transformed into a sincere smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement and something deeper. “yeah, actually, i am,” he said softly, warmth spreading through him at sasuke’s compliment. the tension between them seemed to ease, replaced by a comfortable—albeit still awkward—atmosphere as they stood there, the waves gently lapping at their feet. but naruto wasn’t finished teasing. “so, you think i’m cute, huh?” he said, leaning in closer, his face just inches from sasuke’s.

their eyes locked for a brief moment before both quickly looked away. an unspoken tension filling the space between them. naruto, who had been teasing sasuke moments ago, found himself staring off to the side—his fingers fidgeting nervously. sasuke mirrored his discomfort—avoiding eye contact and fiddling with the hem of his shirt. a sudden warmth enveloped them, their cheeks flushed with a blush. hearts raced—pounding loudly within their chests—leaving them confused and lost.

“man, why do i feel this way?” naruto blurted out. confusion swirled inside him, unsure about the dynamics between him and his closest friend.

how did they end up here? they had been friends since childhood, yet naruto had never experienced such feelings for anyone else. when did it begin? it was as if one day he woke up—his heart set on always being near sasuke, knowing his every move, and above all, protecting him.

“do you feel this way too?” naruto’s voice wavered with apprehension.

“doesn’t take an idiot to figure it out.” sasuke replied, surprising himself with his candidness.

there seemed to be no way to salvage their friendship now—or so he believed. sasuke had known from the start what he felt for naruto, by showing it everyday through actions. yet naruto had never noticed, perhaps because sasuke expressed his feelings differently. his way of loving was unique. perhaps that’s why naruto hadn’t seen it.

jealousy.

it was through jealousy that sasuke came to grips with his feelings for naruto. he despised seeing anyone else touch naruto, be with him, or even hear someone else’s name on his lips. his attention had to be on him, and him alone. it was then he realized he didn’t feel this way about anyone else, not even sakura—only naruto.

“so, uh, we've gotten to this point—well, um... like, you know... screw it. is there any chance?” sasuke fumbled over his words, avoiding naruto’s eyes as he mumbled, staring down with no intention of looking up to meet naruto’s gaze.

“possibility of what, man?” naruto asked, still reeling from their earlier moment.

“god, why are you so clueless?” naruto’s obtuseness frustrated sasuke to the point where he couldn’t hold back his irritation at what was coming out of his mouth. “a damn possibility for... us.”

naruto blinked, caught off guard by sasuke’s words. he scratched his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “wait, you mean... like, a ‘you and me’ kind of thing?”

“damn it. what do you think it is?” sasuke replied, frustration lacing his words.

nervously chuckling, naruto rubbed the back of his neck. “well, uh... why though? you’re always saying shit to me.”

sasuke looked at him and chuckled softly. finally expressing his feelings felt like a weight off his shoulders.

“that’s exactly why,” sasuke pointed out, teasingly poking naruto. he found his flustered reactions endearing whenever he teased him. “so, is there a chance?”

hope.

that was what sasuke needed—to show naruto how much he wanted him, more than anyone else.

“do you realize you’re admitting you have a crush on me?” naruto grinned widely, enjoying teasing sasuke now that he saw this side of him. “come on, you’ve got a chance now. who am i to decline a friend’s request!”

“i’m not joking here,” sasuke insisted, his cheeks reddening. “answer me seriously!”

“i’m answering you!" naruto claimed, a mischievous glint in his eye as he watched sasuke’s face turn even redder, the latter averting his gaze shyly again. “i do, love.”

“you’re so damned to me.” sasuke murmured—he looked back into naruto’s eyes, a warmth spread through him.

[yeonban]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOBIAS! (24.05)

@effigist asked: / Tobias bday festivities ! this got long . my bad bestie

ash lingers in dark shadows cast down from the buildings surrounding the big celebration’s location , vigilantly observing from outside rather than daring to step in . he heard about tobias’ birthday a few days prior from some of his blabbermouth men who had timidly asked their leader if they could attend the big party dedicated to no other than the sharpest thorn in ash’s side . he responded with a dismissive scowl , grumbling something like do whatever the hell you want , while doing his best to seem as disinterested as possible . last thing he wanted was for the men to think he would be attending that hellish celebration - god , no , he’d rather get himself thrown in the slammer just to avoid it . in great contrast to his apparent dislike for the celebration , he nonetheless loitered outside for a good hour after showing up towards the end of the celebration , remaining out of sight until groups of people filed out from the doors &. ash concluded it was finally coming to its rightful end . about time . only when the detested birthday boy enters his line of sight , does the lurking predator step out from the shadows . though , instead of attacking or otherwise antagonizing tobias , he merely walks with an air of leisure &. casualty a teenaged gang leader had absolutely no business maintaining , before stopping at the dark haired teen’s side .

❝ you tired of gettin’ pampered like a snobby princess , yet ? ❞ a playful smirk tugs at the blonde’s lips , implying he must be in a decent mood . gingerly , his arm lifts &. stretches over tobias’ shoulder , although no contact is made . he merely keeps his limb hovering just above the point of contact , but close enough to where any bystander from a distance would be fooled . swiftly , ash’s nimble fingers drop a little plastic card into the other’s chest pocket . It’s a library card . ash is more than aware that the man could easily access any book of his choosing with his status , connections , money , &. influence , but he paid it no mind . once the sneaky exchange is completed , his arm lowers , but not before giving a slightly - too - hard - to - be - considered - a - pat smack into the back of tobias’ shoulder . ❝ better be careful around my guys until the clock strikes midnight , cinderella . they’ll give a loser like you a beatin’ for every year you’ve been alive . ❞ they won’t .

The birthday boy is one of the last to exit the building, animatedly chatting up the few who have chosen to continue their conversations with him even after the party has ended, and it's only when they're stepping down the outer stairs and the teen can feel a distant gaze intently focused on him that he steadily shepherds the guests towards the end of the conversation, shaking their hands and waving them goodbye before glancing in the direction of the gaze. Whatever he may have expected it to be caused by --- an ambush on his birthday or an informant returning to report their findings; the sight of Ash Lynx willingly approaching him had certainly not been it.

Tobias' expression doesn't change much, yet the surprise is apparent enough if one knows where to look for it. It hides in the sudden blink and the lingering stare as the blond threads closer, it crawls in the unspoken but palpable question of what's going on and in the quick yet subdued glance behind Ash as if to check whether the blond has either been coerced into it or sought him out with an urgent purpose in mind. Grey eyes return to look into the jade pair and yet none of these possibilities seem to have quite hit the mark. Ash's smirk isn't gloomily sarcastic nor does his body language speak of anxieties or woes, and there is nothing whatsoever to indicate that he's come here in a hurry. If anything, he appears to have either been on a stroll to this location, or been hiding nearby for a while.

Tentatively testing the waters, Tobias' lips curl into a matching grin, carefully watching each of the gang leader's movements. ❛ Ash? You could've told me you were dropping by, you know. I'd have ditched the others way earlier if I'd known you're around. ❜ The subsequent close proximity is as shocking as the other's presence near the celebration's location and Tobias almost opts to jokingly remark on it when the corners of his eyes catch a glimpse of a thin card delicately sliding into his chest pocket. Hm...? ❛ What, you got me a gift, too? ❜ This may have counted as a teasing comment had the exchange taken place on another day and for the first few seconds Tobias even means it as such, but with Ash's jesting and the deliberate secrecy surrounding the gift-giving, as if this display of cordiality has the potential to be ruinous to the blond's image, Tobias can't help but reach into his pocket and bring the alleged present into his field of vision. A gift? Really?

He doesn't bother inquiring from where Ash has learned of his birthday, he'd expected as much with anyone worth their damn being able to find out about it one way or the other, but the sequence of events following that has barely been considered a priori, imagined as unlikely from the get go and thus unworthy of being thought about; yet it appears his calculations have, shockingly enough, been slightly off the mark. He'd figured Ash would accept hanging out with him if he approached the blond after the fussy festivities were wrapped up (if begrudgingly so), but had he misjudged how challenging it would be for them to reach this point of vague friendship, back during their first few meetings? Or had Ash just coincidentally felt generous on this occasion?

The library card that graces his eyes once he fishes the present out of his pocket might seem as nothing much to most in his position, but Tobias grows troublingly quiet at the sight, the grin on his face slowly dissipating into a thin line; neither annoyed, nor upset --- but rather, cognizant. Under normal circumstances it would take nothing more than a name and an address for such a plastic card to be issued, and it could very well pass as a friendly insult, jokingly implying the receiver should open a book for once, but in their situation it's a calculated effort, and quite an effort he's sure it has been. False identities such as his own come bearing little documentation, or if there is any available it certainly wouldn't be at everyone's discretion, so the existence of a library card with Tobias' name on it hints at a far grander and more complicated process than the regular person would give it credit for, and it seems the blond has deemed him worth the trouble, despite the older teen having indirectly offered Ash a way out of the mandatory gift-giving by not inviting him to the celebration.

Yet perhaps even more baffling still is another minor detail, something so subtle that it would have passed entirely unnoticed had it been anyone but Tobias attempting to grasp its meaning, or had he not been as attentive to Ash's lifestyle and habits as he chose to be. A detail he is more than certain represents a major step in their relationship, and one which signifies a degree of trust (whether conscious or subconscious) that he hasn't been expecting to receive for at least another year of incessantly bothering the blond. Being offered access to Ash's last safe haven, by the gang leader himself.

The silence continues while Tobias stares at the gift in muted incredulity, unsure of how exactly to react to any of the rapid fire surprises this simple choice of presents has flooded him with. Is it a code for something? No, Ash seems to be having a good day, there is probably no reason for him to ask Tobias to meet him at the library for a secret conversation. If so, is he going to request or demand something? No, also unlikely given the ease with which Tobias already offers him everything. There'd be no point in going the extra mile for something he could receive for free while doing nothing.

Is Ash really just reaching out to him of his own volition? That almost seems more doubtful than the previous possibilities, but unless the younger teen is a greater actor than all of the ones Tobias has met... he doesn't seem to be the sort to harbor ulterior motives or take advantage of others without first being given a reason to; and the orphan would like to think he hasn't done anything egregious enough to the gang leader or his men to warrant that. Ash's honesty is one of the traits he values about the other, after all (quite the rarity in their field of work, for better or worse) and what a shame it would be for him to senselessly lose the privilege of knowing for a fact that Ash's words and behaviors are always connected to the definitive truth.

Although there is an ongoing dispute in his mind, Ash's remark doesn't pass by unnoticed; bringing a familiar tint of amusement in the otherwise uncertain state of affairs. Paired with the quizzical gift in hand, it brings the smirk back onto Tobias' face, if a tad more hesitant than it had been before, and it prompts him to turn to look at the other again. How should he react now? Where do they stand, if not where he'd thought they did? Should he wait and see, or should he outright ask? ❛ ......Then, prince charming, how about you act as my bodyguard 'til I'm safe from harm and ready to depart? Midnight is still a long way off, but surely your macho men won't think to lift a finger on someone as frail as me with you around to keep them at bay, ❜ Perhaps slowly prodding is the way to go, if he's learned anything from Ash's lethal allergies to appearing vulnerable. He'll always have the time to ask later, if the moment is ever opportune enough, and maybe there won't even be a need for that after observing Ash's behavior for a while longer.

Lifting his free arm, Tobias leisurely brings it 'round the lynx's shoulders as the other had done to him prior, except he lets his arm come into contact with Ash's shoulders while slowly poking him with the library card present in the other hand. It's a blithe touch, one blatantly meant for gauging where he stands with the other rather than an attempt at rudely breaking into his personal space, and one he had been very careful not to engage in prior to this day despite physical contact being the brunette's go-to when interacting with practically everyone else.

However... with all of the surprises already sent his way, and particularly so with the confounding (albeit indirect) openness Ash has showed him today, it might as well be the best moment to check what boundaries he's currently kept at, and figure things out from there. Will he be shrugged or pushed off as he'd previously figured it'd happen, or will Ash allow him this sort of friendly touch, and surprise him for a fourth time? ❛ And while you're at it, how about you show me to the library, too? I could use some new book recommendations. Who knows, maybe you'll even find that I'm a pretty good reading buddy to have. ❜ The request can easily pass as a debonair way of bringing Ash along for the ride, but with the lengths Tobias has gone to not encroach into the library for as long as it had been Ash's turf, the assistance with maneuvering inside the humongous building might actually be helpful.

[shinakkyo]

wednesday x tyler canon-divergence au wip

i wanted to write my own version of “what if wednesday managed to get out of jericho in ep. 01” fic, mostly as an excuse to write about tyler getting to be actually weird and the addams mansion (my beloved). i also wanted to try writing a multi-chaptered fic again instead of a long one-shot, to like reeeeeally explore the slow burn and to devote time to write about the house as a proper character (did i mention i love her?).

this fic will probably be rated M or E, but it starts pretty tame :)

please lmk your thoughts!!

cw: derogatory language, torture, death (canon typical, not overly graphic)

In some other reality, one that is bloodier in that teenage-drama-show way, Wednesday bumps into someone while scurrying through the Harvest Festival with the sheriff’s son, and it triggers a vision that makes her change her goals of Getting Out of Jericho to Preventing a Killing, and, instead of leaving behind this town threaded with her parent’s memories, she lives out her own murder mystery story, with enough twists and plot holes that any publisher would delight in turning into a full trilogy, under a signed contract that made sure the author died in obscurity and full of debt. 

Wouldn’t that be a dream come true. 

But as it stands, she is on Tyler Galpin’s passenger seat, watching the city’s lights fade amidst the trees as they drive to the nearest train station, with Thing attempting to play hangman with her on the condensation building on the window. She is only paying attention to him halfheartedly, losing on purpose even though she knew at first glance the word was “fratricide”; there are things mildly more pressing at the moment, like the anxious clenching and unclenching of Tyler’s hands on the steering wheel that looks calculated to make Wednesday demand him to stop that. And thus start a conversation.

Just when she thought the uncomfortable silence between them was getting to the good part.

He sighs an apology and takes a big breath to calm his nerves down, relaxing his posture, and Wednesday thinks that will be the end of his little show as the resident Anguished Small Town Boy, but she catches him sneaking a glance at her, and really, it was dreadfully naïve of her to expect anything else; she knows that she might as well be the equivalent to a haunted paperback edition of a Ripley’s Believe It or Not! anthology to someone like him. 

“Can I ask you something? Yes, other than this.”  There is a hint of a smirk on his lips when he catches the way Wednesday’s eyes shift from capricious antagonism to quiet amusement at his quick amendment. She nods, and he looks back at the road, the cliché maneuver to feign nonchalance that Wednesday didn’t think she’d see in person so soon.

“Was Nevermore that bad? I mean, I get wanting to leave Jericho as soon as you arrive in that town, but… I don’t know, the students there seem happy. Like it’s worth it all.”  There’s curiosity in his voice, but also something that sounds a little like envy, a feeling that Wednesday finds difficult to comprehend when she thinks of what in that school he could be envious of. 

She decides to entertain him, given his puzzling generosity that so far is working to her benefit. “I suppose, all high school experiences considered, it’s not quite as vexing.”  She pauses, focusing her look on his profile so their eyes meet, and holds a stare contest that he, naturally, loses. “The student body was just full of your common American high school clichés, though. Teenagehood is the same whether you’re a normie or a gorgon, after all.” 

Tyler frowns in confusion, mouthing to himself what the fuck is a gorgon while looking at the road, and it makes the corner of Wednesday’s lips twitch minutely in what only an Addams could tell was a smile, her expression remaining neutral to anyone else. The time she spent in Jericho was enough to have her thinking like a simple minded girl when she observes that there was something about this boy that made him feel more deserving of her attention than most, enough to prompt her to ask a question to keep the conversation going.

“And you? Why is that the sheriff’s son is so angst-filled over his provincial hometown that he would aid an outcast in her escape, but not go away himself?”  The question apparently surprises him, his eyes widening as his hands clench around the steering wheel once again. Wednesday waits for his answer but she’s getting bored by the minute with this, there’s not much he could say that would be actually interesting, and she doesn’t really care about the mundane day-to-day drama of small towns built on racist history. 

He relaxes again after they pass a sign with the directions to the train station, some miles away from them still. “There’s not much to it, really. I spent a year at a boot camp for… misguided behavior, now I guess I’m repenting. It’s hard to just leave when your dad is the sheriff, too.”  Wednesday catches him glancing at her, searching for a reaction, probably wanting to see shock or surprise on her face. There’s a glimpse of disappointment in his eyes when he doesn’t find it, and Wednesday takes pity on him just for her own continued amusement, taking the bait.

“What exactly was your misguided behavior? Did you kill someone?”  Another car passes by them at that moment, and for a second there’s an unnatural flash of red on Tyler’s eyes, but his expression is relaxed and amused, like he thinks Wednesday’s question was a joke and he didn’t think she was capable of those, so she dismisses the red in his eyes as a reflection of light. “No, actually… I destroyed a Nevermore student’s mural and beat him up, for no reason other than being stupid, I guess.” His self-deprecating tone takes a bitter turn when he continues: “There were others with me, those guys bothering you at the Weathervane, but I was the one who got blamed for everything.” 

That was exactly the kind of meaningless misdeed Wednesday expected to hear, something so completely abecedarian when it came to the typical activities of a high school boy that she couldn’t help but huff in amusement. At least her short stay in Jericho entertained her with its microcosmic banality, as if she had spent her week at a theme park of stale white bread americana, reminiscent of that summer camp she went to as a child. 

They could see the signs pointing towards the train station now, more lights coming into view the closer they got, and as Tyler was doing a right turn to get to the station’s parking lot, his phone flashed with a notification from where it was sitting inside the cup holder. “Can you check what that was for me? If it’s a text just tell me who the sender is.”  He looked worried, and Wednesday supposed that maybe they were already past his curfew, she wasn't paying attention to the time.

She reached out to pick up his phone at the same time he reached out to change gears, and in that fraction of a second where their hands touched, an electric current replaced the blood in her veins, lighting her up like her least favorite electric chair, and the last thing she felt before her vision went black was Thing, running up her arm trying to keep her head upright as she passed out.

She doesn’t recognize this place.

Rough stone walls with unnatural scratch marks, the putrid-sweet smell of decay, specks of dust glittering in the air when she looks around and hears before she sees a figure— curled up against a corner, heavy chains around its neck, ankles and wrists, breathing erratically.

She gets closer to it, the sound of her footsteps echoing loudly in this cave-like place, as if she was trying to make herself noticed and intimidating at the same time, and the figure against the wall curls up even more, making himself smaller. She's close enough now to see it’s a boy, naked and covered in a thin veil of sweat, with red distressed marks where the chains are rough against his skin, and needle-like punctures on his arms. 

Wednesday stands right in front of him and lifts his face up with the toe of her boot, a bright red that makes her want to itch with allergies, and Tyler Galpin looks back at her, hair disheveled and eyes red from tears but hollow with fear, his pupils dilated as if he was high. She doesn’t understand—

“Well, you were useless after all. I should’ve known, and yet I put my trust in you—” She gets interrupted by a slurred mantra of “sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry” from Tyler, his voice small and hoarse, and kicks him on his throat, making him choke and gasp when the chains pull against his neck with the impact. 

Why is she saying these things? That was not her voice, but she knows it, she—

“Did I give you permission to speak? Like this you’re no better than any of those other freaks, did you know that? I’m so disappointed, honey.” Her tone is deceptively sweet but her words are cold, cutting, and Tyler looks up at her with hope and then confusion, like a trained dog thinking he’ll be taken for a walk, only to find himself at the veterinarian to get neutered. 

She thinks she sees a reflection of copper hair in his eyes, but she can’t remember—

There’s a syringe in her hand now, and she can actually smell the fear and panic in Tyler’s sweat, acidic and salty mixed with the distinctive iron of the blood now dripping from where the chains cut into his skin. He’s shaking like a cornered animal, and Wednesday feels her mouth curl in a saccharine smile when she gets close to him.

There’s no way her face could pull such an expression, she’s physically incapable of it, no way, no—

“In the end that girl left you, didn’t she? See how nobody wants you close? How you’re only good as a tool, as a toy? And yet you had the audacity to betray me. Honestly, baby boy, you did this to yourself.” 

She holds him by his chin, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone in mocking tenderness, catching a tear in her manicured nail, while her other hand pushes the needle deep into his neck, and his eyes go from wet and pleading to a dull emptiness in a matter of seconds.

Wednesday chuckles as she sees his wrists falling limp to his sides, and a hint of blue tinging his lips.

The sound of a body slamming down on the ground and the rattling of chains echo in the cave.

[kay-elle-cee]

PROMPT 21 from the Taylor Swift list!!!!! Andddd congratsssss, again

Hello lovely Joy, THANK YOU for your patience! I whipped up a fluffy AU for you since I know that's your preference <3 Read here on ao3 or below the cut!

Taylor Swift Prompts Follower Milestone Celebration

Lily concentrates on moving the eggs from the stove onto a plate, not daring to look head-on to where James sits at her counter. It’s been a bizarre morning and she feels that one wrong word could ruin it.

She hears the click of the electric kettle and the scoot of a chair and James is there in her kitchen, pouring the hot water into their mugs.

“Sugar?”

His voice is light, laced with trepidation as though he shares her same worries.

“One scoop. Here.” She hands him a plate of toast and eggs as he picks up a mug. They settle into another silence at the counter—eyes staring and darting away, blushes crawling up cheeks.

The aftermath of an unexpected night.

“So—”

“You said last night…” Lily trails off, cheeks going pink and dropping her attention to her eggs. She clears her throat, realizing that she’s started a train of thought and dammit, she’s going to finish it. “You said you…ah…fancied me?”

“Fancy you,” James says with the quirk of his lips, taking a bite of toast. “Present tense.”

“Right. Right…” Lily’s mind races.

Their teams had gone out for celebratory drinks after the new launch. Pomona had put her card down for the tab. Three drinks. The rest of their Arcana coworkers leaving. Venting over project hiccups turning to laughing turning to reduced proximity turning to—

“And…how long…have you fancied me?” She stabs into her egg, watching the yolk run along the plate. She doesn’t know why it’s so important, why she’s following this thread. “Was it when I chopped my hair off a few months ago? Or when I called Trevor from Product an arsehole in that meeting?” Her eyes flicker up, daring to watch him. “I know you have a thing for my antagonism.”

“Evans, I’ve fancied you since my first fucking day at Arcana.”

The grip on her fork tightens, a small breath escaping through her lips. Eight months? He’d fancied her this whole time?

“What?”

He shrugs, a barely-visible flush crawling up his neck. “I…well, I thought I was shit at hiding it, honestly.”

“You barely spoke to me if it wasn’t project-related,” Lily points out, her brows furrowed.

“That’s because Snape—” James clamps his mouth shut, eyes wide as her spine goes rigid at the mention of their ex-coworker (and her ex-friend). “Sorry, I shouldn’t have…” shaking his head, he pivots. “I guess I thought you knew how I felt and you just didn’t want to make it awkward—”

“Potter—”

“Which I respect, and I know things got a little…out of hand last night so—”

“Stop.” Lily drops her fork, reaching over the counter to place her hand on his and reveling in the warmth of his skin. “Don’t get ahead of yourself with a worst-case scenario. I…” she bites her lip, exhaling forcefully. “I fancy you, too. Have for quite a while.”

James’ face lights up and he leans closer to her over the expanse of the counter, a good-natured smirk on his lips. “Since my first day?”

“I hardly spoke to you on your first day!”

He takes another bite of his toast, enjoying the way her cheeks flush with color. “I bet you thought I was fit though, eh?”

“Finish your toast, you arse,” she grumbles through a smile.

[2af-afterdark]

Kinktober '22: Day 9 - Financial Domination

Rating: Explicit  Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: GN/M Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Relationships: Mammon/MC Characters: Mammon, MC Additional Tags: gn!mc (they/them), mc has some feminine coding in their presentation/behavior but not gendered otherwise, financial domination, nickname (mammon: piggy), hand jobs, Dom/sub dynamics, cum eating Summary: Mammon gets off on you antagonizing his sin. A/N: Is this a niche kink? It just felt like Mammon needed it. Word Count: 624

"What do you think, Mammsy?" The gold of their new bracelet flashed in the light overhead, small charms that cost a pretty penny in and of themselves tingling against one another as they showed it off in front of him.

Mammon bit his lip, trying not to purr at the way their greed rolled off them in waves as he looked them over more closely. It wasn't just their bracelet that was new and shiny. Their entire outfit looked as if it just came off the rack in an upscale boutique, all accentuated by a fresh face of professionally done makeup, and finely done nails.

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "Ya look-"

"Expensive? I had some help." They interrupted him as they pulled a small black card with gold lettering out of their pocket, slowly slipping it into his pocket as they kissed the tip of his nose. "Thanks for the new threads, by the way."

His cock throbbed between his legs, begging for release as it strained against his pants and threatened to burst through the zipper.

Clearly, they noticed too as they cupped their hand against the firm bulge. "I take it you like what I bought." They're fingers dragged over the ridges of his zipper, grabbing at the metal tab and slowly pulling it down. Of course he went commando. He was lucky he had the prettiest cock they'd ever seen. "I wonder if you'd feel the same about the bill." 

"Yeah, Babe. Why don't ya tell me 'bout it." 

They wrapped their fingers around his girth and slowly began to pump him from base to tip, the small, wet globs that leaked out of his tip being spread over his length as they stroked him. They leaned in close, pressing their lips against his ear with a smirk. "I couldn't buy the new sunglasses I wanted because the card was maxed out."

Oh fuck! 

His hand flew up to cover his mouth as he groaned deep in his throat. His blue eyes wavered and teared up as a tight knot started to twist around in his stomach. Their hand only stopped gliding over his length to tease and rub at his tip before returning to their work. He couldn't take how skilled they were at toying with him.

"I want to go back and get them tomorrow," they said through laughter, "so make sure you have plenty more for me by then, my cute piggy."

The force inside of him finally pushed Mammon over the edge, ripping through his body as hot, white ropes of cum shot out of his twitching cock, coating their fingers.

They quickly pulled their hand away, examining their nails with a pout. "I just got these done," they whined. They pat the side of his face with their clean hand. "Open up before they're ruined."

He swallowed again before doing as told and opening his mouth wide as he waited for what came next. The affection in their eyes was almost enough to make him hard again, but it was the feeling of their smooth polish against his tongue as they shoved their cum covered fingers in his mouth and made him lick them clean that really got him going. Knowing that he had paid for these nails sent blood straight between his legs all over again.

They smirked at him. "Good piggy. Keep it up and I'll let you see what I bought for my own personal use later."

Oh… oh he was ready to support whatever whim popped into their mind. He was more than happy to give them whatever they wanted as long as they rubbed their greed and entitlement in his face at the end of it all.

[digisurvive]

Children’s problems

Or why Shuuji makes Survive what it is.

cw: child abuse, self-harm, abuse

Spoilers for the Truthful route

[Image ID: Screenshot of one of Ryo’s dialogue line that reads “What? Like anyone’s listening to what you have to say. Heheh, yeah, nobody’s listening.”]

One of the standout qualities to the writing of Digimon Adventure (1999) was the honest and nuanced yet still optimistic portrayal of the problems children face and the ways they dealt with them. From Koushiro’s alienation from his family due finding out about his adoption to Yamato and Takeru’s awkward bond, abandonment issues and stunted growth stemming from their broken family, and everything in-between, Adventure’s writing managed to shine an empathetic light to the stress responses originating from these difficulties while still showing the possibility of growth and healing.

As a game purposefully advertised as a more mature version of Adventure, Digimon Survive takes upon itself to tackle the depiction of children’s problems with a philosophical core that delivers a well-rounded thesis to this thematic thread.

To say Survive portrays the stress responses the kids carry from home to intense extremes in their life-and-death adventure is probably an understatement. Shuuji is a specially good example of deplorable and difficult-to-deal-with behavior — constantly belittling his own partner as well as relentlessly nagging and snapping at the other kids. Shuuji mirrors the way his own father treated him growing up; his treatment of Lopmon serving to showcase the way the verbal abuse he endured has taken root in his own inner monologue and self-perception and sprouted a really visceral self-hatred that spills out and corrodes his relationships with others. Through re-enacting his abuse on Lopmon, whom he recognizes as the same as him, he’s essentially self-harming and fueling his inferiority complex and suicidal ideation. 

The way the game makes the player witness his behavior as it unravels and slowly spirals until it reaches its most vicious expression in part 5 makes for a striking and effective portrayal of his household problems. The fact the only way to kickstart any positive character growth from him hinges on saving Ryo, shines a light on Survive’s ideals of communal care: after being forced to face what happens when the people who are deemed as lost cases are abandoned to their demise, the importance of making sure everyone is care for is evident.

Furthermore, the manner in which Ryo saves Shuuji heavily involves calling him out for his deplorable behavior, going as far as punching him in reliatation for bashing Lopmon. By addressing the harm Shuuji is causing his partner and the others, Ryo stops him just before he does something he can’t take back. It doesn’t stop there, as Ryo forces him to get out of his head and acknowledge the others are there, going to lenghts to support him when he’s at his lowest.

This enables Shuuji to begin to mend his relationship with Lopmon — and himself, by extension. To be able to get back up after hitting rock bottom and not to give up in the uphill battle towards self-improvement: to know there’s people around him who both will help him weather his inner turmoil and shoulder his responsabilities; but will also confront him without antagonizing him and won’t allow him to hurt himself or others any further.

[Image ID: Conversation log between Shuuji and Lopmon during their perfect evolution cutscene.

Lopmon: Don’t throw the towel, Shuuji! Didn’t you want your own approval?!

Shuuji: It’s no good... No one’s going to approve me the way I am now...

Lopmon: That’s not true! You’ve at least got me believing in you! No matter how down in the dumps you get, I believe you’ll get back up, so...

Shuuji: Lopmon...]

Shuuji’s growth is further nurtured by his relationship with The Professor, which brings in a literal game-changer reveal that changes the end-stretch of the game. The Professor as the kids’ only adult figure available to guide them is by design, given The Professor himself had to grow up to be the kind of adult who could understand and help the scared, dismissed child he himself once was. He exists in opposition to the largely absent, neglectful or downright harmful adult figures that failed to support the kids back home.

In this way, Survive goes a step further from simply portraying the maladptive stress responses the kids display to posit that for the group’s growth and continual efforts for healing to be possible at all, it’s absolutely essential to foster a caring community for them. One that is capable of both calling them out for their negative behaviors but also supports and encourages them to improve. This goes hand-in-hand with the game’s response to the duties of leadership, survival and making an impact in the world — for any of that to be achievable, both internal and external burdens must be shared responsability within the group. 

[kadytimberfox]

Kady's Expanse (Re)Watch Blog

Episode 1.01 - "Dulcinea" (Pilot)

And here we go for my...fourth time I've watched this episode I think? It's a really wonderful pilot that does so much work with introducing you to the world, our cast of characters, and setting up the threads of the main plot and does it all perfectly in a very tight 45 minutes. It reminds me a lot of Deep Space Nine's pilot "The Emissary" which is similarly a masterclass in tight storytelling and how to properly kick off a new series.

And speaking of kicking off a new series, hey! I'm watching this show that I absolutely adore again and I'm going to take the time to spout my thoughts about it on the internet because that seems like a fun idea! I really enjoy thinking about media critically but I've never taken the time to write down my thoughts before. It's a style of writing I've always wanted to try so where better to do that than a Tumblr blog? I'll try to keep these Brief and Not Boring but no guarantees on either. Especially on this one. It's the pilot, after all.

I also want to keep this as light on spoilers as possible; again though, no guarantees. Also if you haven't seen this show yet just go fucking watch it it's so good.

Later in this post is a description of torture that happens in the episode. I marked it with a TW and formatted the text to make it distinct from the rest of the post.

With that out of the way, there's nothing left to do except pick apart this pilot!

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Summary

We kick off with a bang (and then some more banging) as we see a young woman named "Julie" fight her way out of a locked compartment, explore the darkened hallways of her Completely Fucked Spaceship, and watch her friends get eaten alive by some evil blue space goop. Surely none of that will be important later.

Cut to the adventures of hard-boiled Belter detective Joe Miller and his new Earthling partner Dimitri Havelock. They're private cops for an Earth corporation who theoretically maintain order on Ceres Station in the Asteroid Belt, the biggest shithole this side of pretty much anywhere. They go to a murder scene and do basically nothing, antagonize and then arrest people minding their own business at a bar, and take a bribe to half-ass a health inspection. Y'know, classic cop stuff.

Back at the precinct, Miller gets an off-the-books job from his boss to find one Juliette Andromeda Mao, daughter of megacorp magnate Jules-Pierre Mao and coincidentally the spitting image of "Julie" from our opening scene. Apparently, her pro-Belter activism is starting to piss off dear old dad and they want her to come home before she embarrasses the family any further.

In the middle of his investigation, he finds out that those air filters he "inspected" earlier crapped out and poisoned some children. Instead of taking accountability for not doing his job, he decides to throw the sleazy air filter guy into an airlock and only lets him out after he promises not to fuck it up next time. And also to pay Miller double. I'll let it slide though because Sleazy Air Filter Guy is an asshole.

Back on Earth, United Nations Undersecretary Chrisjen Avasarala shows up for about five minutes in this episode. The only thing she does is torture a guy. End scene.

Meanwhile, the good ship Canterbury is on its way to Ceres with a big haul of space ice that the station needs to turn into water. Second Officer James Holden gets immediately promoted, much to his dismay, because his previous boss Mike Ehrmantraut went insane from being out in space too long.

Mystery strikes when the gang gets a weird distress signal from a ship called the Scopuli. Captain McDowell, probably having watched enough Star Trek episodes to know that this can't be anything good, decides to ignore it. Holden just can't stop himself from doing a good thing, though, and secretly reports the signal, officially making the Canterbury Legally Obligated™ to investigate.

He picks his away team (unknowingly also picking the people he's going to spend the rest of this show with) and takes a shuttle to investigate the drifting Scopuli, where they find everything shut down except for the beacon that brought them here. "Pirate bait", or so it seems.

Suddenly, McDowell advises the away team that a very scary ship has appeared out of nowhere and that they need to get the hell out of there. The gang gets back on the shuttle just in time for the mystery ship to fire not just regular torpedoes, but nuclear torpedoes at them. The torpedoes close to zero...and then continue streaking towards the Canterbury.

Holden tells McDowell to eject the space ice to form a protective barrier, but he refuses, apparently willing to die rather than lose his payday. The payday (and everything else aboard) is lost anyway, however, as the Canterbury erupts into the most beautiful supernova I've ever seen.

"She's gone. They nuked her. She's gone."

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My thoughts

So this is where I actually have to do the analysis thing. Since the beginning of this show is split into three primary subplots that all deal with a different piece of the Julie puzzle (a narrative device that I fucking love, by the way), I'll divide things up by talking about each one individually because that just makes sense.

Before I do that though, I just want to briefly say that that opening scene with Julie on the Scopuli is just the perfect opening to this show. It immediately gives us a very brief glimpse inside the puzzle box that our main cast is going to spend all of this season (and most of this show) trying to open. It's quick, it's tense, it's completely terrifying, and it's unforgettable if you've seen it.

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Miller on Ceres:

And we follow up that perfect opening scene with a perfect choice for which of these three main threads to start with. The thing that's great about dividing up the characters like this is that each of them only has a piece of what's going on with Julie and the Scopuli, but no one has the full picture. Miller, though, gets the most information off the bat and is the only person in the main cast who's looking for Julie specifically, so it's only natural that we should start with him.

His story is also the inspiration for the title of this episode, "Dulcinea". For those of you who aren't big Don Quixote fans, it's a reference to Quixote's fantasy lover that he invents because he styles himself as a knight and, of course, every knight needs his damsel. He describes her in excruciating detail; she's royalty in a far-off land who is the epitome of feminine beauty, the ideal of Womanhood Incarnate--or his vision of it at least.

And the deeper Miller goes in his investigation, the more quixotic he gets with his idea of who Julie is. He's never met or spoken to Julie, but as he unravels her activities prior to departing on the Scopuli, he becomes increasingly obsessed with her, imagining what kind of a person she must be, picking apart every little detail and transposing it onto his vision of what her life must be like. I'm sure he would call it "being a good detective", but it's much more than that to him.

Throughout Miller's jaunt around town with Havelock, they banter back and forth, and through their conversations, we get a great sense of their personalities. Whereas Miller is the grizzled veteran who's had his morality thoroughly beaten out of him, Havelock is a by-the-book rookie cop who seems genuinely interested in learning about Belters, if only so that he can police them more effectively.

It's a very tried-and-true buddy cop pairing, but it works really well here. Havelock gets to be our audience surrogate for this story as we learn more about how Ceres and Belters operate.

This thread has the biggest worldbuilding burden out of the three and it pulls it off so well. We get so much about life in the Belt, the politics of the Solar System, the Outer Planets Alliance, or OPA (who will definitely be showing up later), and the logistics of maintaining a huge population of humans on a space station. And none of it feels clunky or awkward in the slightest. It's exactly the style of worldbuilding I loved in "The Emissary" from Deep Space Nine.

Ceres itself also has huge DS9 vibes, and not in a good way. The set design team did such a good job making this place look old, weathered, and completely falling apart. Except, of course, for the nice apartment buildings where the cops, off-worlders, and everyone else rich enough to ignore the seedy underbelly get to live.

There are a ton of fantastic, evocative lines in this arc, but I think my favorite is Miller's deadpan proclamation that "There are no laws on Ceres, just cops." A perfect summary of everything we see on screen about how power is wielded in this place.

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Chrisjen on Earth:

This is the shortest thread where the least happens, but it will grow into one of my favorites. We don't get too much additional insight into what's going on, but we do get two important things: 1) Chrisjen Avasarala is a stone-cold bitch who thinks the OPA are terrorists, and 2) the OPA are apparently trying to get their hands on illegal stealth technology, which doesn't help with the whole "terrorism" thing.

This links up to both Miller's and Holden's subplots: we know about the OPA from Miller, and the ship that eventually blows up the Cant was using Martian stealth tech. Of course, since Holden and crew have no idea about the OPA, they immediately start thinking that Mars is out to get them, which will continue to play into the story going forward.

!-- TW: DESCRIPTION OF TORTURE --!

Also important to note is that Chrisjen is getting this information through the most brutal torture I've seen on TV in a long time: forcing a Belter whose body can't handle Earth's gravity to stand for hours on end by holding him up with hooks under his arms. After Chrisjen goes on and on about his "weak Belter lungs and brittle Belter bones", she coldly turns around and tells them to hold him up for another 10 hours. "If he survives, call me."

!-- TW ENDS --!

Fucking ghoulish, and definitely not a good look for Madam Undersecretary's first appearance. You're gonna have to trust me now when I say that she becomes one of my favorite characters in the main cast. This is about as bad as she gets, but she continues being manipulative and cold-blooded for most of this show. That's just who she is. To me, it's part of what makes this subplot of scheming at the UN so engaging.

We'll be seeing a lot more of Chrisjen going forward, and she'll get much better. At the very least, she will stop torturing this guy. But only because someone will tell her not to.

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Holden on the Canterbury:

If Miller's story shows us life in the Belt and Chrisjen's shows us the politics of the Solar System, Holden's thread is all about life onboard a spaceship, which is important because we're going to be spending a lot of time on spaceships. This is also the part of the episode that has the most CG and honestly it holds up really really well. I know it's less than a decade old and they probably got a lot of money for the pilot but still! It looks great!

I'll drop a brief shoutout here as well for the ship designs in this show. They knocked it out of the goddamn park with the Cant's design: it's a big, boxy, dull gray, ugly thing that looks designed to haul ice and do literally nothing else. Everything is so practical and, above all else, plausible. They look like humans from the near future built them and that's the highest compliment I can give them.

There are shades of the first act of "Alien" here as we are essentially dropped into the Cant in the middle of its mission and get to see the camaraderie and hierarchy between all the members of the crew. We also get to know more about Holden, and immediately he begins showing us his defining character trait: he wields a lot of authority and respect, but he hates being in charge.

We see this in the very first scene onboard the Cant when one of the ice haulers, Paj, gets his arm severed while working outside the ship. He seems completely unfazed by this, though, since the company will send him a prosthetic and he's been working for them long enough to get a really good one.

Not only does this happen often enough that the company just buys prosthetics as a cost of doing business, there are literally tiers of coverage depending on years of service. What an optimistic future this is turning out to be.

Paj pleads with Holden to make sure the company doesn't send him a "used" arm (a frightening thought), to which Holden replies with something that he will continue to say, in so many words, over and over: "I'm just another clock-puncher like you." Holden knows he has authority on the Cant, but all he wants to be is a clock-puncher, which he makes very clear to pretty much everyone he talks to, including Captain McDowell when he essentially forces the XO job onto him.

Later on, we get our first glimpse at Holden's other primary personality trait, that being that he is The Main Character and therefore the most kind-hearted soul that can exist in this cold, selfish world. He logs the distress signal they received from the Scopuli, thereby ensuring that they'll have to divert from Ceres (and lose their on-time bonus) in order to investigate.

He shares this privately with Chief Engineer Naomi Nagata before the shuttle mission, to which her only reply is to tell him to keep that to himself. Fair play, considering she was just talking about how she wanted to strangle the little fucking do-gooder before she realized it was her new XO. Excuse me, Acting XO.

Before the shuttle launch, we're briefly introduced to the rest of the away team: the aforementioned Naomi; her mechanic Amos Burton, whose defining character trait is doing whatever Naomi tells him to do; ship's pilot Alex Kamal, who we previously saw being an annoying blabbermouth on the Cant; and Med-Tech Shed Garvey, who sewed up Paj's arm and wants everyone to know that he does not want to be here. Yes, his first name really is Shed.

Most of this part of the episode is setting up what'll happen next so we don't get a lot of time with any of these guys, but we'll have time for some great character work in the coming episodes.

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And that said, what a great setup for what comes next! Nearly all of the people we just got to know on the Cant are vaporized by a mysterious ship, there's a cloud of space debris hurtling toward Holden's little shuttle, and we have a hell of a puzzle box to dig into. Did Mars blow up the Cant? Did the OPA? Why would either of them want to? What does it all have to do with Julie and the Scopuli? And what the hell was that fucking space goo??

Despite covering so much ground in this pilot, The Expanse makes it very clear that we've barely scratched the surface. And even though I've already seen this whole show and know where it's going, it took everything I had to not hit the "next episode" button.

I will be doing that very soon though because I had a blast writing this up and I definitely want to keep doing it! Apologies that this one ran so long -- I assumed I was going to write a lot with this being the first episode and everything but I had so many thoughts that didn't make it into this post. I'm sure I'll be refining the format as we go along as well.

If you read all the way to here, I'm genuinely flattered and I hope you have a wonderful day.

~ Kady <3