#(​like in her class everyday) and to say ‘we’ll have to agree to disagree’ if she says something

[hairenya]

One of my colleagues and I are fighting (because she’s a bitch) and she framed it as wanting to be concerned with my teaching abilities which is hilarious because the student body absolutely adores me and hates her. Like motherfucker I am the Princess Diana of this middle school I will end your entire existence do not fuck with me.

[justgillespie]

Missing (7/?)

Summary: Your next door neighbor, Luke Patterson (a.k.a. your longtime crush) has gone missing, and you think you could help finding him.

Word count: 2.7k (I think, I don’t really know lol)

Warnings: none!

•

“...And it was actually fun. I think we were all there. All the boys from the block, I mean. Josh, Victor, Lucas- what-? Stop stealing my fries!”

You and Max were at a diner, having dinner on a Friday night.

“Sorry.” You laughed. “I’m glad you had fun. You’re welcome.”

He scoffed. “Why?”

“Uh, if I didn’t tell Josh you were going, you would’ve said you weren’t. And you went and had fun. Again, you’re welcome.”

“You’re insufferable.” Max shook his head, smiling. “But, yeah. Thank you, I guess.”

“I’ll take it.”

“Speaking of Josh.” He said, grabbing some fries. “Tomorrow’s your big day.”

You rolled you eyes. “You say it like it’s gonna be our wedding. It’s just a date. I wouldn’t even call it a date yet.”

“You, maybe. Josh seems excited for your ‘simple’ date.”

You decided to take a sip of your drink instead of responding.

“You don’t seem too excited though.” He analyzed you for a moment. “Still thinking about Luke?”

“First of all, don’t look at me like that. You’re looking at me like I’m a child.” You rolled your eyes. “And second of all... well, yes, of course. I thought it would be easy to forget about a crush. It’s got to a point that’s just ridiculous.”

“By the way you say it, it doesn’t sound like a simple crush.”

“Well, it can’t be more. I don’t know him.”

“Have you ever heard about love at first sight?”

“That question shows me how little you know about love at first sight.”

“Oh, yeah?” He said, challenging. “How much do you know?”

“Enough to know that my case with Luke it’s not what you’re suggesting.”

“Come on.” He groaned. “Just accept it.”

“Accept what?”

“That you like him.”

“I do like him, that’s the thing. I like Luke without knowing who he is, exactly. That doesn’t make any sense! Just- stop it. Leave it like that.” You said before Max could say anything else. “You really just love to argue or disagree with everything I say, right?”

“If you say it like that, it sounds bad.”

“It is bad, Max.”

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. And you shook your head in disapproval at your friend, which he decided to ignore. “How’s Mrs. Patterson?”

You visited her that day after school, like you’ve been doing the past week.

You included visiting her as a daily activity on your schedule. You went to her house for at least an hour, go back home to study for another two, and then, you went to your dance class.

“She’s good. Better, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“She does look better.” He nodded. “I’m really glad... have you told her, though?”

You looked down to your glass of juice. “No. She haven’t asked and I never really see the need of doing so.”

You had lots of opportunities to tell her, but you never did it. After overthinking about it a lot, you ended up with the conclusion that, she wasn’t asking because maybe she already knows (courtesy of your mom), or she just really didn’t believe you could find his son.

You did promise her that you would back up if you had to. So maybe, if she knew, that’s why she wasn’t mad or upset.

But you still promised to give her that second chance...

With that thought, you looked for the guitar pick, that was still hanging around your neck, and just held it with your fingers for a second. Something that you’ve been doing a lot lately. You couldn’t take it off. You tried, but you didn’t want to, for some reason you didn’t exactly know.

Even though you weren’t doing anything to find Luke anymore, it still seemed to be something that you were calling out to do. Everything reminded you to him. Not only since you’ve been going to his house a lot, but also for other reasons. Like the fact that the posters you saw at Mrs. Patterson’s last week, were all over the neighborhood now. Maybe even further.

“I mean, if she’s not asking, I guess...” Max shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I guess...”

And still, you felt the guilt in your chest.

“Anyways, where are you going tomorrow? With Josh.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think we said any place in specific.”

“We’ll see about that then... if you wanted fries, why didn’t you buy some?! Stop eating mine!”

•

The next day, the hot whether made you wear a nice and simple sundress to go out with Josh.

Your sister was finishing combing your hair when you heard the doorbell ring, and you two went downstairs.

Your dad opened the door. You weren’t worried about that since he did know Josh and his parents, but if this worked out, you weren’t too far from getting a similar lecture like the one Tamra got just last week.

When your dad was done with him, you said goodbye to your family and went outside next to Josh, whoopened the driver’s door of his car for you.

“So where are we going?” You asked, looking at him while he was driving.

He looked good. Like he always did. And you were waiting impatiently for those butterflies in your stomach to come at the sight of him. Like it would happen with Luke.

But they never did.

We still have time, you internally said.

“I was thinking... does the movies sound right to you?” He asked.

“Sounds great.” You smiled.

“Great, great.” He smiled back.

You never found it hard to make conversation with him, and this time wasn’t the exception.

Once in the cinema, you two lined up to buy tickets for the movie and you still didn’t decide which one you would watch, but you made the decision for the two of you once you saw how excited Josh looked at a big poster of a zombie movie. He bought the tickets and you bought the popcorn and the drinks. It wasn’t easy but you ended up convincing him to do so.

During the movie, he tried to grab your hand, but every time you pretended not to notice. He didn’t try many times though, he was too invested on the movie to worry about that.

That spark you were so convinced was there and was just taking its time, wasn’t making its appearance. What was wrong with you? You wanted this. You accepted his invitation because you didn’t want to miss this “open door.”

But you didn’t want to be with Josh. As hard as it was for you to realize it, you didn’t like him.

You were still after your neighbor next door, who couldn’t care less about you.

I just need time. This was too soon.

When the movie was over, you went to a diner close the place just like you agreed before.

Still, no spark. Or butterflies. Or flushed cheeks.

Just nothing.

Until you were on your way home, and you saw some kids in front of a club, with some instruments and a man practically yelling at them.

“Josh- wait. Josh! We need to stop. Stop!”

Josh did so, a couple of stores away.

“What, what?! You okay?” He asked looking at you with a frown.

“Yes, yes it’s- There. It’s Luke’s band.”

You two looked behind you, and you could see them. Not clearly, but you were sure those were them.

And Josh seemed to think so too.

“No way...” He said, his eyes wide open. And then, rapidly pointed. “Luke, it’s Luke!”

“Where?!” You desperately looked but for you, the image was blurry.

“There!”

Since you still couldn’t see him, you got out of the car to get a better view.

It was definitely them.

Reggie and, who you assume was Alex, were talking with the man you saw befoe and it did not seem like a nice conversation. Reggie was hiding behind Alex and he seemed to be the one trying to control the situation.

And you only could see his back, but it was definitely Luke the one saving the instruments in the back of their truck, next to Bobby.

“It’s them.” You confirmed, but you couldn’t move. You couldn’t bring yourself up to do anything in that moment.

“What should we do?”

And then you realized. Reggie and Bobby knew you. They knew who you were. If they saw you, they would take Luke away again.

You couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Come on.” You motioned Josh to get in the car again.

“Should we call the police? Or the Pattersons? Maybe-.”

“No, no. None of that. We’re gonna follow them.”

“What?!”

“We need to know where they’re hiding Luke.”

“How are you so sure where they’re going?”

“I am not. But we have nothing to lose.”

You waited until the guys saved one last piece of a drum set, got in the car and started driving away, to follow them.

“Be subtle. And careful.” You said.

Your heart was racing. Sadly (or not), the reason wasn’t Josh.

You tried to follow them not exactly behind, but trying to stay at least a car away from them all the time.

Five minutes later, they stopped at a fast food place, in where they got in, but you decided to stay in the car.

Josh parked the car across the street.

“Max did say everyday with you is a new adventure.” He said. “But I didn’t know he meant literally.”

You removed your sight from the restaurant and looked at him.

You smiled slightly. “Sorry for dragging you with me.”

“Oh, no worries.” He waved it off. “Max warned me.”

“He warned you?” You raised an eyebrow. You didn’t know if you should be offended.

He then noticed the way he said it and you saw the panic on his face. “I didn’t mean it like that! I promise it sounded better in my head.”

You laughed. “It’s okay. I get it.”

“Yeah, um... what should we do now though? With Luke I mean.”

“I was thinking, um...” You searched through your purse. You had enough money. “Maybe we could... follow them? If it’s okay with you. I can give you money for gas, and all. It is my fault you’re here with me now, after all.”

“Forget that.” He shook his head. “This is big. We could maybe get Luke back to his family. You don’t have to give me anything. It’s all for the Pattersons.”

You smiled and nodded. But mentally decided that you would hide the money in the pocket of his jacket later.

“And also... Max told me about what you two have been doing the past week. So I know this is important to you, too. And if there’s anything I can do to help, then I’ll do it.”

You rested your hand on his for a moment. “Thank you. Really. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

The two of you killed time by playing with some Uno cards Josh had saved in his car, and an hour or so later, Josh saw the guys getting out of the restaurant.

“They’re leaving.” He warned you, and started the car as they drove away.

Again, you followed them cautiously for about twenty minutes. They stopped twice at two different houses (where Reggie and Alex, respectively, stayed) before finally getting into another neighborhood where the two guys left parked in front of a beautiful house. Bobby’s house, you assumed.

“So that’s where he stayed the whole time.” You whispered to yourself.

You two kept driving up until two or three houses away and parked in front of a house that seemed empty.

“I can’t believe it.” You said, giggling excited. But you erased your big smile once you looked around you. You had no clue where you were. You got out of the car with Josh.

“Do you... um... happen to know where we are?”

“Honestly? No.”

You started biting your thumbnail. You checked the time. It was nine thirty. You were supposed to be back home at ten.

“Shoot.” You said. “Okay, we know where they are. Do you have a pen or something?”

“Sure.”

He took a pen from some place in his car and gave it to you. Josh walked beside you as you headed from corner to corner and then stopped in front of Bobby’s house. You wrote the street names down in your wrist, not forgetting about the house number.

“Cool, cool.” You nodded. “We have something. And he seems to be safe. I guess I just can come back tomorrow.”

“I was hoping you say that.” He chuckled relieved. “I really didn’t think it would be a good idea to knock now.”

“Yeah...”

You stood in front of the house in silence for a minute.

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“We found Luke.”

You two turned your heads to see at each other and then cheered and jumped.

“Shh! Wait! They could hear us.”

“Right, right.” He stopped himself too.

And then, you two silently celebrated.

When you finished, you noticed you were grabbing each other’s hands.

You saw him blushing, and before this could go any further, you smiled at him gently and let go of his hands.

“Let’s go.” You said.

“How do you think they’re managing though? You know, Luke hiding there. And I don’t know his friends’ parents... or his friend himself, but I don’t think they would allow to hide someone in their house who’s been practically reported as missing. There are literally posters of him everywhere.” Josh said once you were (this time for real) on your way home.

“I know. At least I hope they don’t know. It would be cruel of them. Mrs. Patterson is better now, but she hasn’t been having a great time.”

He nodded.

“It’s really sweet of you. What you’ve been doing for her. And for Mr. Patterson.”

“I just... I think I just can’t see her like that. And she regrets everything she did wrong with Luke. She just wants another chance to fix things.”

“You have a great heart.” He said, and you smiled for the hundredth time that night.

“Thank you.” You tilted your head. “You too. You came all the way here with me to save Luke. I think that’s something that qualifies you as a good person, too.”

“Thank you.” He doffed an imaginary hat at you, and you chuckled.

He parked in front of your house.

“This night was... full of unexpected events.” Josh said and you agreed with a smile.

“I’m sorry, again. For dragging you with me.”

“And, again. It’s okay. It was fun. Way more fun than what I had in mind for this date.”

You held up a gasp. He said it. It was a date.

You decided to ignored it. “I had fun too.”

“I just... I had something in mind. And I realized that maybe we... don’t share the same feelings? I sound so stupid, I’m sorry. I just...” He sighed. “I like you, Y/N. I really do. But I notice you don’t feel the same.”

“I am... truly sorry about that, Josh.” You looked down for a second. “I really tried though, you know? You’re a really good guy.”

You grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

“I’m just... still fighting with this old... thing I had for a boy. But please don’t get mad at me. I love hanging out with you. You just make me laugh a lot and...it’s just so fun to be with you. You’re a great friend and I really don’t want to lose you.”

He shook his head with a little smile. “You shouldn’t worry about that. You could never lose me.”

You smiled.

“Friends?” You asked and showed him your fist.

“Friends.” He bumped it and you hugged him.

“Thank you for one of the greatest nights ever.” You whispered.

As soon as you stepped on your living room, your family assault you with a bunch of questions. You impatiently responded to all of them, to then explain that you and Josh were just friends. You just wanted to go to Tamra’s room and call Max, but your sister didn’t let you do so until you promised you were gonna give her details later.

Max also celebrated the new information you got when you called him and the both of you agreed on going the next day and...

Well, you didn’t know what to do exactly. But you would have that planned later.

You couldn’t believe it. You were so happy you couldn’t even remember why did you quit the investigation. You just needed a little break. It was too much for you and it wasn’t easy.

But you were back.

•

Taglist: @ifilwtmfc @sovereignparker @catbcyluke @marvelgirl300 @valeriasannchez

[activechataclysme]

TITLE: hot chocolate and croissants.

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Ship: The Love Square - Mainly Adrinette and Marichat Rating: T [ AO3 ]

Summary:

He could’ve explained but she never gave him the chance to. To be fair, he wouldn’t have ever been able to explain until his father’s spring collection line was released. He could tell Nino was befuddled but was trying not to ask too many questions, and Alya kept alternating between suspicion and concern but didn’t say anything either. And Marinette… Well, she had completely iced him out.

“Sh-She said she was sorry,” he said, trying not to sound miserable. “For all the lying. She did it because she wanted friends. She was jealous of you, she admitted that. And insecure.”

“She is still lying though. To everyone.”

“She said she’s trying to stop. It’s a habit.”

“You really believe her, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. It was an almost awe-struck admission to herself, a little bitter, a little bit of hurtful epiphany.

“I just want to give her the benefit of doubt,” he said softly.

“By dating her?” she asked, and her voice cracked just a little.

Days turned into weeks.

Marinette still wasn’t talking to Adrien. She didn’t quite smile the same and yet, Chat Noir found that he was falling a little in love with Marinette everyday.

He had started visiting her because she had started to avoid him. That was the one of the simple truths. Not like he didn’t know why; he knew exactly why.

Or at least part of it.

He knew what it looked like, and he wished he could’ve explained but she never gave him the chance to. To be fair, he wouldn’t have ever been able to explain it fully anyway; not until his father’s spring collection line was released.

It didn’t help that his classmates gushed about it, and it hurt him in his gut that he couldn’t tell even Nino about it; he could tell Nino was befuddled but was trying not to ask too many questions, and Alya kept alternating between suspicion and concern but didn’t say anything either. And Marinette… Well, she had completely iced him out.

“I- I thought you had my back.” Her voice was quiet.

“Sh-She said she was sorry,” he said, trying not to sound miserable, trying to summon the brief hope and confidence he had felt when Lila had talked to him. “For all the lying. She did it because she wanted friends. She was jealous of you, she admitted that. And insecure.”

“She is still lying though. To everyone.”

“She said she’s trying to stop. It’s a habit.”

“You really believe her, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. It was an almost awe-struck admission to herself, a little bitter, a little bit of hurtful epiphany.

“I… Understand how she feels. Being sheltered, having no friends-”

“You do have friends!” said Marinette, and he could tell she was trying her best to maintain a facade. It made him all the more desperate because he couldn’t stand the wall between them. “People who care about you for you not because of who you claim to be!”

“I just want to give her the benefit of doubt,” he said softly. He felt more miserable by the minute. He had been since he’d seen the look of shock, followed by confusion and hurt on Marinette’s face that morning, when he’d had to “confirm” the rumour about his relationship with Lila.  

She had stared wide-eyed at their clasped hands for a whole minute before her face had settled into a neutral expression; she’d been looking at him like that ever since. Like he was a wax statue. Scratch that, because when she thought he was a wax statue, even then her gaze had been full of fondness and warmth. But that morning, with her neutral expression, he had nodded at him, given him a stiff smile and turned to talk to Alya, who was clearly trying not to glare at him.

“By dating her?” she asked, and her voice cracked just a little. She cleared her throat immediately, blinking away her misty eyes.  

He pursed his lips, hanging his head in defeat, tempted to tell her that that hadn’t been his choice; his father made him do it for reasons he refused to tell him. He didn’t understand it, not in the least, but he had to.  

Besides, it wasn’t so bad, he reasoned with himself. It was only till the new line came out, and then he could tell all his friends the truth. After that talk with Lila, he was sure she wouldn’t mind coming clean either. Additionally, their publicity stunt of a relationship had been more comfortable to ease into, he supposed, except for Lila’s lack of understanding of personal space.  

“I just…” started Adrien, completely at a loss of words.

Marinette closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. When she opened them back up to look at him, he winced at how much more colder they were though her face in itself betrayed nothing.

“I’ll see you around, Adrien.”

And that was that.

Literally.

She hadn’t seen him around since then, not for his lack of trying. She avoided him like the plague.

And so he sought her out as Chat Noir.

Back then, he had been determined to defend himself. His civilian self at least. To find out why their friendship meant so little to her that she cut him off completely, and so easily. She had welcomed him so warmly that first night, despite the clear despair and tears in her red-rimmed eyes she refused to talk about, he forgot about the purpose of his visits.

Days turned into weeks.

Marinette still wasn’t talking to Adrien. She didn’t quite smile the same and yet, Chat Noir found that he was falling in love with Marinette.

And one night, she brought up his regular serving of buttered croissants and a cup of hot chocolate. It could have been like any other night really, sitting under the moonlight with her, sipping on hot chocolate with a dash of salted caramel as the two of them talked about everything under the sun. Well, the moon.

But that one night, perched on the railing as he watched her appear through the trap door, a small smile on her lips as she brought him the dailies, he sighed, lovestruck while he reached for the cup.

“I love you.”

He heard his words, and it took a moment to realise that he had said them out loud. The hitch in her breath was an indication that she’d heard too. His thoughts scrambled, trying to find some way to backtrack, and an overly cheerful ‘you’re a good friend’ was on the tip of his tongue, when she set the tray down carefully before turning to him.

“Do you mean it?” she asked quietly.

He thought it wise to lie, but he couldn’t. Not to her, not anymore than he already had to. So his eyes found the floor, and he whispered, “Yes. Every word of it, and very much so.”

Heavy silence hung in the air and she stepped between his legs, startling him into almost falling down save for her hands that had wrapped around his waist. She laughed softly. He looked up at her to see her eyes filled with a fondness and warmth, and a smile so warm that it nearly brought tears to his eyes.

Instead, his lips quirked into a small self-deprecating smile as he let his own arms wind around her hips.

She raised up on her toes to plant a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“I want to love you, too,” she admitted, voice soft, but before his heart could sink, she continued in a small voice. “I think I can,” she said with a shy smile. “I just… Need some time.”

He returned her kiss, a chaste one on the tip of her nose.

“As much time as you need. You can have it,” he breathed, because he hadn’t imagined that things would turn out this way. He couldn’t have exactly what he wanted, but this was a start. A start he hadn’t ever thought he’d have.

She worried her lower lip thoughtfully before looking at him with that sad smile of hers, that reached the very depth of her eyes. She ran a thumb across his cheek as she spoke quietly. “It’s just that I… Well. There was this…”

“You don’t have to tell me, Princess,” he said, despite wanting to know, because she looked ready to cry again and he didn’t think he could bear that.

“No,” she shook her head vehemently. “It shouldn’t matter anymore and… And you deserve to know. Especially now... That I’m in love with someone-”

His eyes widened, and he wanted to flee because this was not-

“-Well, I used to be, but I’m still hurt,” she confided. “I’m over it though. I am not in love with him anymore. At least, I don’t think,” she frowned.

He sighed. “Princess, if you don’t… Feel that way or-”

“ No, Chat, I do!” she said, panic in her eyes. “I promise I do. I really, really like you. So much. I just wanted you to know that… I’m still a little hurt by his… actions. And that’s why I want time.”

“Marinette-”

“ Chat ,” she pleaded. “I just want to be able to tell you that I love you, completely. You deserve better than a broken heart.”

“I’ll have whatever you can give me, Princess,” he smiled sadly.

She kissed his forehead. “And that is why you deserve better, minou ."

“Better?” he scoffed. “You’re the best there is. It’s a miracle I even get to hold you,” he said quietly, miserably remember the parallel relationship they had outside his mask.

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree, my kitty.”

“As long as I’m your kitty,” he grinned, as she pressed her lips to his mouth.

He remembered again why he had started visiting her in the first place. Because her warmth was addictive, and he could only feel the chill emanating from her from where he sat in front of her in class, her unaware that he knew what her kisses tasted like. It was a harsh reminder of the odd dichotomy of their relationship that only he knew existed.

And thus, he was on a mission again.

He’d brought it up exactly once before her eyes had hardened and she shut him down immediately. Adrien Agreste was a forbidden subject on the cosy little rooftop of Marinette’s home.

He did not bring it up again

He supposed he’ll have to wait two more months; the spring line will be out, and he could tell at least his friends the truth.

It came to a head one night. Another one of their many nights which marked a milestone in everything they shared.

When he landed on her balcony, Marinette’s back was turned to him and she was talking on the phone. She sounded tired.

“Alya, I’m okay, can we please drop this?” her voice, a little unsteady.

He thought he could hear Alya’s muffled yelling, desperate.

“Marinette, it’s been two months, I just don’t think you’ve processed it yet! Please, just talk to me! I know it's confusing, but maybe if we can ask-”

“There is nothing to ask,” said Marinette, voice borderline bitter. “He’s made it pretty clear, Al.”

“This is not like him! He knows about her, and there has to be something, and-”

“He believes her. He told me so.”

“Maybe if you tell him what she said to you just yesterday-”

“He probably wouldn’t believe me.”

“M, please, just try,” Alya pleaded. “He should know.”

“Yeah, he should know. He should know better . He’s seen first hand how she can be. He’s talked me through a bout of panic, caused by her . I just...”

Chat winced, realising who they were talking about.

“Maybe she has something over him,” Alya suggested.

“Can we please not talk about this anymore? I’m just… So tired,” Marinette said quietly. “And so, over it. I am trying not to care anymore and you know I-”

Chat cleared his throat.

Marinette whipped around on her heels, and his heart clenched at the tear tracks on her face. “Alya, I have to go.”

“ Mari… Alright, but this isn’t over.”

Marinette sighed, leaning into Chat as he came closer to plant a kiss to her temple. “Bye, Alya.”

“ Bye, M. I love you, girl.”

“Love you too, Al.”

Chat shifted on his feet, looking uncomfortable as Marinette plastered on a cheery smile on her face. “Kitty. You’re here early tonight. Can’t keep your paws off the croissants and hot chocolate, can you?”

“Can’t keep my hands off you , actually,” he quipped, before he sighed; her lower lip was trembling through her smile. “You don’t have to pretend with me,” he said quietly.

Her face crumpled, and she looked like she was about to say something, before she let out a bitter laugh. “ God , I thought I was through crying about this.”

He took her in his arms and they both collapsed on the lounger, as she sighed into him, lying sideways across his lap as he kissed the crown of her head. “About what?”

“A friend, ” she said, a tint of bitterness in her tone.

“Anyone I need to beat up?” he asked with a half hearted chuckle.

“No. It’s okay. I don’t think… We’re not friends anymore,” she sighed, nuzzling his shoulder.

Chat tensed, arms tightening around her. “I didn’t think you were capable of hating anyone.”

“I don’t hate him,” said Marinette. “It’s ironic you say that, really.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

Marinette gave him a sad smile. “I used to be in love with him, you know?”

Chat’s throat went dry. Of all the things he had expected to hear, that was not it. Marinette had been in love with him? Why had he not known? Why had she denied it when he’d asked her? She’d denied it! Lied straight to his face, through her teeth!

“D-Did you ever tell him?” he asked in a strangled voice, knowing the answer himself but he needed to hear it.

“I did try.” Marinette snorted, before her voice turned sombre. “Good thing I didn’t tell him, though. He’s dating… someone else now,” she said, shrugging casually as if she had said she didn’t particularly feel like taking a walk.

“He’s not your friend anymore because he’s dating someone else?” he asked, drawing back to look at her, unable to help the anger seeping into his voice. It wasn’t fair of him, true, she was his girlfriend now, but he’d never thought Marinette would be this way.

“What, no!” exclaimed Marinette. “There was this girl, Kagami. A mutual friend of ours who returned to Japan last summer.” She paused. “Oh, you remember, Oni-Chan?”

Chat nodded, still irritated, unable to see where she was going with this.

“She was in love with him too,” explained Marinette. “I genuinely thought those two would get together. I don’t know what happened,” she frowned

Ladybug happened. But she didn’t know that.

“Anyway, I was sure they would get together. I even helped them out a bit, you know? It would’ve hurt, yes. But I’d get over it. Besides, Kagami was… Good. I would have been happy for them,” she said softly. “Hurt, but still happy.”

Chat deflated, tightening his arms around her as the annoyance bled out of him. He should’ve known Marinette wasn’t that petty, but what else was he supposed to think? Granted, that her and Lila didn’t get along, but -

“But now, he’s dating the girl who bullies me,” she said, voice distant. “After promising that he’d have my back, he defended her. That just… really broke my heart. I… Fell in love with him for his kindness,” she said, leaning into Chat to rest her forehead on his shoulder. “Funny how I fell out of love with him for the same reason,” she laughed bitterly.

Chat buried his face in the crook of her neck, placing a chaste kiss there if only to steady himself. “You don’t love him anymore?”

Marinette sniffled. “I can’t. Not when he’s dating her. ”

His throat felt tight and dry. “Are you… Are you never going to talk to him again?”

“I need to stop caring first,” she sighed miserably. “I need it to stop hurting so much when she does everything in her power to rub it in my face.”

“What… What do you mean she rubs it in your face?” asked Chat cautiously, trying to keep his thoughts steady with all the new information. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t realised he had hurt her this deeply.

She curled up tighter in his lap. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

That made his heart sink with apprehension. What was he missing? What hadn’t she told him? Nothing good, if her tensed shoulders said anything.

“Princess… Your blogger friend is right. You need to talk about this,” he said, carding his fingers through her hair in that soothing motion he knew she liked.

“How much did you hear?” she asked, raising her head to look at him warily.

“Enough, but also not,” he admitted. “Please, tell me, Marinette. I need to know.”

Marinette hesitated, worrying her lower lip as she contemplated. She sank back into him before releasing a slow breath. “Lila once told me she’d make sure I would be alone…” she started slowly.

He felt his face heat in anger, voice dangerously low as he asked, “ What ?”

Marinette’s hands went into his hair in a calming gesture as she tried to soothe him. “That she’d have all my friends and that she’d have Adrien too. Funny thing is I was scared about my friends abandoning me but he believed me back then, so I thought-” she cut off, shaking her head. “Anyways. Last week she found me in the restroom again and cornered me, telling me how she won and-”

Chat’s face blanched, mind spinning just a bit. He couldn’t believe-

“-Alya says I should talk to him. Tell him about what Lila said. But… I don’t think he’ll believe me.”

“Adrien is a naive, gullible, fool,” spat Chat, voice bleeding with bitter self-deprecation.

Marinette sighed, raising her head off his shoulder. “No, he’s not. He just… Wants to believe the best in everyone. I can’t fault him for that.”

“But…” he swallowed thickly, voice timid as he found himself wallowing in misery. “You’re punishing him for it though. By not talking to him.”

“Maybe. But I also can’t… I want to stop hurting. I’m probably being selfish but I just…” she trailed off, looking away guiltily. “I can’t stand it. I don’t know how he can stand it. He was there when Ladybug confronted her about the lies, and he was there when I got expelled and he said he’d have my back and I just… Don’t understand how he flipped switches over night that way and I can’t stop thinking about it, and that’s so unfair to you and...” She broke off, eyes filling with tears, as she choked back a sob.

“Oh, Marinette.” Chat’s voice cracked as he held her, turning her in his lap so she was straddling him on the chair, legs on each side of him. She was facing him now, his face hovering a little bit above him as she sniffled.

Chat wiped her tears away, one hand going up to cup the back of her neck so he could pull her down to kiss her, deep and slow. They parted for air, and he chased after her lips for another peck.

“I’m sorry,” he said, kissing her again. “I’m so sorry.”

She pulled back in confusion, but he kissed her on the nose.

“Maybe he had no choice,” he said quietly.

“Chat, what’re you-”

“Maybe his father made him do that on the pretext of pulling him out of school, you know?” he said, coughing when he noted her wide eyes. “You know, as fathers do. So Adrien decided that would be for the best, and since he would have to work closely with Lila till at least the spring collection was released, he decided to make amends with her. To make things easy for him -”

Marinette was looking a little thoughtful now

“-Because it's easier to fake a relationship with a friend than someone you can’t stand, right? And when he talked to her, she expressed regret, and Adrien wanted to believe her because he could relate to being lonely. But maybe she just knew how to play him, you know?” rambled Chat, not noticing the sharp look in Marinette’s eyes. “A-And he thought he would tell all of his friends the truth when the line finally came out but the stupid line got delayed by a month because his father was lapping up the publicity the relationship was causing and just… Ugh. ”

Then he took her hands in his, holding both between the two of them. “Whatever the reason, he wouldn’t… I don’t think he would have done what he did if he knew it would break the hearts of one of the best people he knew,” he said quietly, brushing her knuckles gently.

Marinette was silent for a moment before pressing her lips to his in a short, sweet kiss, and then on the corner of his mouth.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t, kitty,” she said, drawing back as she traced his mask gently with her fingers, eyes wide and slightly wonderstruck. “He’s a really good person. I think we’ll be okay. With time.”

“ Really ?” he asked, a slow grin coming onto his face.

Marinette nodded, a small smile on her face. “Really.”

A day after the spring line came out, Adrien had a little spring [ ;) ]  in his step. He had been looking forward to this day for months. To his surprise, Marinette was sitting in the empty classroom when he came, but did not look up at his entry. Which was not surprising, but the paperbag set on his desk… That was unusual.

Cautiously, he walked up to it.

He looked up at Marinette, who still made no move to look at him. Slightly tense, he opened the bag and peered into it.

Croissants and a cup of hot chocolate.

[jonthethinker]

Does the Cerberus Assembly need to be reformed, or destroyed? And can it really be either?

Let’s start with an opinion we can all agree on; Trent Ikithon sucks. He’s clearly a very bad person, and our collective hatred of him is one of the rare things this fandom seems to actually agree on. What he’s done to his “disciples” is horrifying, and his general ideology is monstrous and abhorrent, although not surprising considering the role he plays in the Empire. We can, on this, agree that the world would be a better place if he was removed from power, correct?

Now this is where I start explaining my probably very divisive opinion.

A lot of people would say that all it takes to make the Cerberus Assembly better would be to replace the members like Ikithon with Good People. Maybe Caleb Widogast, for instance. If you simply put someone with a stronger moral character into that position, then its output in turn will also be Good.

This, whether knowingly or not, implies that institutions, even those like the Cerberus Assembly, are by their nature at the very least morally neutral. That all it takes to make an institution like the Assembly be Good is have Good People run it. You do that, and with time, all is well.

But what if institutions did have a moral character? what if the responsibilities and powers given to a body like the Assembly and its requisite components are not Good or even neutral, but instead very, very bad? And what if the incentives the people deciding who stands on the Assembly, namely the members of the Assembly themselves, are actually antithetical to any ideas of a substantially reformed Assembly in the first place?

Let’s think for a minute about Trent and his job. We are all horrified by his methods of creating his Volstruckers. But as much as it bothers me, what bothers me more, personally, is what they are for. While we tend to view them as arcane assassins, what they really are is a wholly unaccountable means of performing all of the Assembly’s, and by extension the Empire’s, dirty deeds not meant for public notice. And seeing as they fall under the sole purview of the Archmage of Civil Influence, this is largely going to translate to “managing dissidence and discontent” in the polite language a body like the Assembly would use to describe its work.

What this means is that its job, and the job of Trent’s office as a whole, is to keep the wrong ideas from getting too popular and the people from getting too loud about the awfulness of their everyday lives, and inside a broader system like the Empire, this is usually going to be dealt with by means of coercion and outright violence. While it’s easy to feel sorry for the incredibly abused and tormented people under Trent’s power, like Caleb and Astrid and Eadwolf, I feel like I’m one of the few in the fandom who has really considered the true extent of terror being unleashed on so many whose faces we’ll never know.

Peasant farmers’ organizing for lower taxes on their grain sales. Laborers gathering to raise hell over the low wages they receive from mandatory state projects. Citizens concerned about the unchecked brutality of the Crown’s Guard. Religious worshipers worried the Empire is straying from the path set by their gods. The mentally ill and other people who simply don’t comfortably fit into the grand scheme of things. Races of folks seen as outsiders suspected of conflicting allegiances. How many people like this have vanished in the night, either to be imprisoned or tortured or killed, or I guess in many cases, all three? How much suffering has been caused, hidden away from any measure of accountability?

And this brings me to my next point; While Trent is truly awful, his title, and the role he plays, are also awful, and I think you don’t get into a position like that in the first place without being someone like Trent. I say this because we’ve gotten to meet a handful of people on the Assembly outside of Trent, and they’ve all generally had the same things to say about him; he gives them the creeps and they don’t like him personally, but he has his uses. I interpret this to mean he performs the responsibilities of his office well enough, and while his methods and general demeanor may be off-putting, it isn’t worth causing a fuss about so long as the work gets done. If they simply ignore what he’s doing, they get the benefits of a suppressed polity with very little of the personal hangups of what it requires to make that happen.

So let’s say, for some reason, Trent dies or is imprisoned and disgraced, and Caleb assumes his role. Caleb has experienced a remarkable amount of personal growth, although not without his own stumbles and set-backs like any victim of severe trauma such as he. He is, in my humble opinion, a Good Man. I know if given the power of this office, he’d be motivated to end the traumatizing of children, and killing of parents, and perhaps even the wholesale disbanding of the Scourgers itself. He’d maybe seek to alleviate the suffering of those his office is meant to contain instead of inflicting more pain upon them. And wouldn’t that be nice?

But when you’ve got this entrenched elite like the Empire does, those sorts of efforts are not going to go unnoticed, and in many cases, are going to cause one hell of a backlash among the powerful, who more often than not believe in their heart of hearts that those lowly commoners deserve their lot in life, and to spare the lash is to spoil the child, and soon you’ll have a bunch of peasants thinking they can go so far as to ask for actual power, actual control over the direction of their lives, and for any empire, but especially this one, how do you imagine that’s going to fly?

I’m reminded of an anecdote out of Brazilian politics. Former President Lula da Silva is one of the the most popular Brazilian political figures of all time, and managed to massively alleviate poverty in Brazil while also working with Brazil’s entrenched elite to make sure not to piss off the wealthiest of the wealthy. But the comfortably upper middle class, or “petite bourgeoisie” as Marx would call them, were disgusted that all these poor people were suddenly climbing the ladder. According to some folks, they complained “The airports are starting to look like bus stations,” because for the first time, working class people in Brazil could actually afford to fly. This discontent among the comfortable led to a chain events ending in the false arrest and imprisonment of Lula and the rise of their current terrifying president Jair Bolsonaro. I learned from this, and other tales like it, to never underestimate how angry some people will become when their special status ain’t so special anymore.

This is to say, that while Caleb is an undoubtedly brilliant man, without the potential intervention of DM magic, I don’t see someone with his lack of political savvy either holding power long or holding onto his convictions long enough to do anything meaningful, if someone like him is considered for the job in the first place. AND even if he does accomplish all those wonderful things through this office and survives until he’s old and gray, he will eventually die. And judging solely on the general quality of character among the wizards we’ve met thus far, I’m not so optimistic about his potential replacement.

This example does spill out my major beef with the whole “Good Person in power” idea of reform. Good People either can’t live up to their values and actually wield power, or the clock itself defeats them and everything they ever stood for. This is also my problem with governmental models overly dependent on norms, as all it takes is someone willing to just completely ignore them,and for the people in power around them to have no incentive to stop them, for things to completely go off the rails. This is why reforms generally don’t last unless they universally redistribute power itself, from the top to the bottom, and even this is going to come with its own backlashes, and it generally doesn’t happen from polite attempts at reform by well meaning leaders, at least not all on their own, but through the sheer force of mass movements or outright revolutions.

And its not just Trent’s office that has this problem. It’s every single seat on the Assembly. His is just a particularly egregious example. Vess DeRogna didn’t get her job by being polite, of that much I’m sure. She’s clever, devious, and patient, not to mention her skill set and interests directly line her up for the role as Archmage of Antiquity. I don’t really think her sole interest is making sure nobody gets hurt by all these artifacts lying around, and neither do I imagine the Empire itself has any intention of keeping her discoveries behind lock and key; they pretty clearly want them mass produced where they can and immediately wielded against their enemies, both foreign and domestic.

And I’ve hinted at this earlier, but if you think Trent is a unique monster in the halls of Dwendalian mages, I’m going to have to disagree. I’m certain there are more than a few wizards in service of the Assembly and the Empire, who if not already believing similarly to Trent, could easily be convinced of his convictions, and ready to use his power themselves in an eerily identical manner. People like Trent aren’t as rare as we’d like them to be, and they’re all ready to grab power just as soon as they can.

So it would seem I come firmly on the “burn it all down” side of things. If only I believed it were that simple.

You see, I see the Cerberus Assembly as an institution that exists, in its entirety, for the cementing of power of the Dwendalian Elite and the progression of its interests. It protects them from threats both from inside and out, it teaches their children magic, it helps negotiate its trade, it aids in putting food on its table, and makes sure its armed for bear with the deadliest of magic only the Age of Arcanum and ancient elves could provide. It’s very reason for existence is to uphold the way of life for those on top. Even if it competes idly for who sits at the head of the table, it very much is invested in maintaining the structure of that table.

So if it were sundered and destroyed as an institution, what is to stop its functions from simply being absorbed by the broader Empire? What’s to stop the Empire from simply recreating the Volstrucker program under a different name? What’s stopping them from hiring its wizards to perform their original tasks, just under the sole discretion of the king? So I’d wager the problem isn’t the Assembly, but the very distribution of power required to maintain an Empire like Dwendal’s in the first place. The assembly is an immoral institution upholding a much larger, equally immoral institution. And you can’t truly solve the problem without tearing the whole damn thing down.

Do I think this campaign is going to be one in which our lovely players start a revolution? Hell no. I expect Trent at least to die or be deposed, and with the aid of some DM magic, things will get a little better. But Matt has given enough consideration to the political forces present in his world building, that I wanted to treat his world as if it were subject solely to the forces and motivations our own is. Just to see how things could turn out without a generally kind god like Matthew Mercer at the helm.

Plus I just really love trying to understand how fantasy political structures would really work. It’s usually a lot less depressing than real political structures, at least in so far as there are no real consequences for their abject failures. But I’ve rambled long enough. Thank you to the poor souls who read this ramble. You’re truly wonderful.

[devourer--of--books]

Callis was Gavaldon’s first witch gynecologist and here’s why

Okay so, in this post we’ll be discussing topics such as sex, contraception, and some religion in the context of it being used as a mean to control people sexually. 

If you’re younger than 13, honestly, this post isn’t for you. 

If you’re unlucky, like me, and your school didn't give you proper sex ed, I beg you to ask someone about it. Your older sibling, your mom, someone, okay? Ask google. It’s important stuff you need to know.

First of all, for composure’s sake, let’s all pretend I didn’t start thinking of this due to me writing a smut fic. At 4am, on my tablet notes. On my defense, tho, there’s an astonishing lack of E-rated fics on this fandom and someone ought do it, okay? Moving on.

So, where shall we start?

Let’s get context out of the way, welcome to my analyses, the actual headcanons are here, I promise, let me just bore you to death first:

The SGE book series overall is set in fantasy fairytale land (The Endless Woods), with the exception of Gavaldon, aka, the reader village. Due to this, there’s not really a time period liking the SGE world to ours, neither can it be presumed by the world building, as Soman mixes traditional medieval elements  with modern elements, which I know bothers some of you too, it ain’t just me, but nevermind that right now.

The point is, the arguments I’m making on this post are based on aspects mentioned in the books, but I’m also going to draw some information from the real world.

A big chunk of the first two books rely on the world the existence of a patriarchal structure in that world, as do some plot points during the rest of the series, but if I were to dive into that we’d be here all night. Talking about the Endless Woods social structure is very complicated, specially with the ‘no labels in the woods’ stuff combined with the misogyny. It’s messy. 

Thankfully for this post, we’ll only go into Gavaldon, because I feel things there are more… explicit (pun intended).

So here’s what we know of Gavaldon’s social structure pre-book 1:

It’s a decent sized village with no official government. There’s no political figure of power, such as prince or a mayor, as they eventually get in QFG. There also doesn’t seem to be an actual economic class distinction between the people of Gavaldon, other than mentions of beggars (pretty sure it’s just one tho, but I might be wrong). Everyone works and trades amongst themselves, with people having more or less the same things (except for Callis and Agatha, due to them being social outcasts). 

Who has power in Gavaldon?

The Elders Council. They make the laws, they are respected, they have influence, and therefore they have power. These dudes stopped people from selling food to Stefan’s family during book 2, and threatened his new family in front of everybody during book 3. And everyone in Gavaldon loved that man. Why are they powerful tho?

Power is born out of inequality. If you have what we have not, we follow where you lead. Gavaldon has no nobles and no bourgeoisie. Geez, I wonder which powerful class we’re missing.

The clergy.

Personally, I hold no love for the church. I’m an atheist, but, as this post is about SGE and not religion, I’ll try to be as neutral as possible, as the point is not to offend or disrespect anyone. When I mention ‘religion’ or ‘clergy’ from this point on, I’m talking about religion as an Institution. As in the Medieval Catholic Church (which if you don’t agree was at least kind of very evil, I don’t know if I want you reading my posts anyway, so feel free to leave).

Most likely, the members of Elders Council of Galvadon were linked to its Church, whatever religion they may have. I can’t see any reason why they would have so much influence otherwise. Who appoints new men to the positions once one of them dies? I’m gonna guess the remaining members of the Council. 

And no one said anything? For centuries. Okay. Corruption? Never heard of her.

Also, burning unmarried women as a way to solve problems claiming they were witches? Wonder where I’ve seen this before.

The fact they’re men, should get mentioned too, just in case you forgot. I bet there are women just as old and wise, if not wiser than the members of the council. Hm, wow why they’re not part of the council.

This hypothesis ties in with the fact that the education given to the kids is limited to the local school, which, given the lack of government and simplicity of work relations, is probably funded by the clergy. We don’t see any proof of this, but again, if we’re comparing Galvadon to a medieval village, it would make sense.

What is even taught at this school? Math and whatever language they speak there, sure, but like they have little to no history that we know of, geography would be pointless, there are no foreign languages, science who, and with these clowns running the village I’ll bet there is no philosophy or social studies and... Doesn’t matter, let’s not do this right now.

Callis briefly mentioned that all girls in Galvadon must marry before the end of their school education, or they are deemed witches. The Elders Council even chooses the matches, in case those aren’t naturally formed or if they disagree with pre-existing ones. These kids are what,15,16, maybe younger?

(this makes me so mad, you have no idea-)

ANYWAY. They form these child marriages, for... look I’m gonna presume is because of population reposition. They need an average of 2 kids per couple or they’ll have more people dying than people being born. Let’s just presume it’s because of this because if it’s because of some tradition stuff I’ll scream, okay?

Maybe they have a low life expectancy in Gavaldon (which is another evidence for the case that the elders are part of the clergy, they probably don’t work, so they live longer). 

So have them teenage girls poping them babies, I guess.

Also, a miracle they have survived this long, because the genetic pool for Gavaldon must be the worst ever, everyone is related to everyone, ew. At least, in theory, there would be no STIs.

In theory.

Ahem… During the middle ages, all forms of birth control tended to be frowned upon, at least here on the west, including coitus interruptus (aka, pull out method), (tho it depends of who was the pope at the time, some of them were cool with this one if you already had too many kids and was like super poor), because sex was supposed to be about procreating, so a marriage with no kids was ‘pointless’. 

(hear me raging in the background, this context is stressing me out, i just wanna get to the headcanons-)

We can assume this view is probably compatible with the Elders Council mindset, as they are marrying CHILDREN. 

If there were any available contraceptive methods, you can bet they weren’t teaching this stuff at school. They probably have no sex ed, and if they do, it’s going to be just about periods and vague stuff. Gotta love them church schools (I never went to one, officially, but honestly, I live in Brazil, what even is Secular State).

(“Don’t have sex before marriage, you’re gonna get pregnant and die”, - one of the teachers at the Galvadon school at some point, I bet)

Let me also mention that there is an specific Gavaldon law that states that if a girl is pregnant she is going to marry the boy who knocked her up. Which, specially in Vanessa’s case, makes no f-ing sense. Could she prove it was Stefan’s? Did she sent it to a DNA lab? If Stefan was the Elders favorite why would they not take his word?

I digress, let’s say Stefan didn’t deny sleeping with her and only said he was under a spell, which, hm, how dumb do you have to be to do that, it’s lying 101, Stefan c’mon, but okay, you do you.

So they are probably super “moral” in Galvadon. You know, the kind of moral who just swipes stuff under the rug. Like, yeah, Stefan you’re now doomed to marrying Vanessa, but ain’t nobody gonna say a thing if you cheat on her as long as you don’t do it during plain daylight.

(The amount of closeted gays in Gavaldon is probably astronomical, can you imagine?)

And then you have Callis. Whom I think is probably responsible for the introduction of birth control in Gavaldon. We have arrived at the headcanons. Hear me out:

After Stefan saved Callis, she was deemed a witch. She’s a ‘witch’ doctor for the town. Only the most desperate of people seek her out. 

That means she normally wouldn’t get a lot of patients. Like, Idk about you, but Gavaldon doesn’t seem big enough for her to have people looking for her everyday. And she probably had to feed Agatha somehow.

But, while her being a doctor for normal diseases wasn’t really working all that well, everyone knew she had a hand in Vanessa’s miracle child. So ‘infertile’ women and women who had been getting sickly during pregnancies start looking for her, asking for her to help them. 

Callis obviously doesn’t use her magic, but as she can’t say she used magic for Vanessa, she gives them generally good advice about herbs and stuff they can add to their food to make it ��more likely’, aka stuff that reduces stress, telling them how to eat better, stuff they should avoid, etc. She’s no big expert, but at least in the Endless Woods they had sex ed and she was witch, she just knows stuff.

So she becomes this sort of witch gynecologist for Gavaldon’s desperate women.

It works for a while, but then people eventually share these tips amongst themselves to avoid going to see her. Then, it’s back to slightly starving herself so baby Agatha could eat.

One day, a teenage girl arrives at her doorstep in the middle of the night, trading food for her help. If she could ‘make people more fertile’, she could surely make them miscarriage. Maybe this girl got pregnant by sleeping with someone the elders didn’t aprove for her to marry, maybe it was something else a bit darker, but we won’t talk about how that could be common, given you could literally force someone to marry you if they had your child.

Callis panics, because she wasn't ‘making anyone more fertile’ really, she was making them healthier and therefore more likely to have a healthy kid. If she were to tell her to do the reverse of what she told the others, not only it wouldn’t work, but it would actually harm the girl’s health.

At first she’s like, “I can’t help you…”, but then she hears baby Agatha crying, poor thing, so hungry all the time. So Callis decides, “you know what, might as well”.

There’s probably many potions made with magic one could take to not have a baby in the Woods. Even ones that cause abortions with no side effects or danger to the woman. But there also more natural ways, ones that maybe aren’t 100% effective, but would work, tho it had some side effects.

So Callis, makes her a potion to take. For real life comparisons, let’s say she used Queen Anne’s Lace, which works a bit like Plan B. The girl is thankful, and goes on her way.

Soon enough, everybody knows Callis can do these potions. You have girls sneaking to Graves Hill in the middle of the night to get help in exchange for food and while the elders know something is fishy, they can’t do much anything about it. They ask Callis what is up with that and she’s like ‘nope, just ya know, helping them have babies, plan b who’.

She tries to introduce a variation of the potion, one that acts as birth control, because it would stop people from being irresponsable all the time, but the Plan B one is the one every girl wants, because well, it’s easier. You can be unsafe and then take a potion and it’s fine. Soon, it’s not just girls. There’s full grown women there too, who should really know better.

She is pissed, so she says she won’t make them any more potions unless people stop being so careless.

Someone tries to make a knock-off potion, but it ends tragically, because people don’t really know what Callis puts in it. And well… you know what looks a bit like Queen Anne’s Lace?

F-ing Water Hemlock, that’s what.

After that incident, people listen to Callis when it came to ingesting stuff. And thus, birth control culture is born in Gavaldon. Other people started trying out other things to avoid dealing with Callis, like animal-based condoms, pull-out method and inserting acacia gum into your vagina before you had sex,but she had a good clientele overall.

The Elders? Pissed. But since they couldn’t just prove this was her fault, they just kept on hating on her from a distance.

After Agatha has her first period, Callis sits her down and pretty much gives her the talk. Agatha doesn’t really see a point to it, boys are gross, but she listens nonetheless. 

Callis gives Agatha the best sex ed homeclass ever, you can bet she will teach her correct anatomy, debunk myths the school told her about both periods and her own body and even promised her to teach her how to make the birth control potion once she got older.

Again Agatha doesn’t see a point, but okay.

When Agatha comes home with Tedros, years later tho. Callis is... worried.

She tries to ask Agatha if she’s being safe but her daughter just... stops functioning. Blushing like crazy. 

 (“We just kissed, like, once, mom.”)

That being said… Callis doesn’t live long enough to teach her how to make the potion.

So when Tedros and Agatha’s relationship starts to progress (hm… if you wanna read something about it, maybe wait a couple of days, I might or my might not have a sin fic in the works, it wouldn’t be one of my posts if it had no self-promotion, I’m my own sponsor after all) she’s unsure of who to ask about this.

And it makes her extra sad about her mother’s death, so that’s great.

I honestly don’t know who she would ask. If you have any ideas, please tell me. Because I’m kind of inclined to think that maybe Merlin might have predicted this and handed a recipe to her as a semi-joke, but idk. Maybe Uma?

But yes, Callis was totally Gavaldon’s first witch gynecologist. And after they made Stefan mayor, I want people to remember her for the absolute legend she was, okay?

[spn-safeandsound]

10. Bad Energy

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x14; Nightmare

Word Count: 7,040

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore, mention of sexual situations, suicide

Author’s Note: Hope you enjoy! Remember to reblog and like!

Masterlink in Profile Description!

Dean couldn't sleep.

His eyes were tired and his body was lax but he couldn't get his damn mind to shut off long enough to get his usual four hours. Never before had he had such a hard time falling asleep. Usually, he'd close his eyes and within ten minutes, he'd be dead to the world.

Not that night, though, and it was pissing him off. He could hear Sam snoring in the other bed and the ticking of the clock on the wall by the bathroom but other than that, it was quiet. The noises coming from the room next to them had stopped hours ago, much to his relief.

Maybe that was why he couldn't sleep. Maybe because Julia had taken home a guy from the bar and he had to listen to them fuck through the wall because the television's volume didn't go that high and Sam was already asleep. Maybe it was because the guy wouldn't shut his fucking mouth despite the fact that he heard no such noises from Julia and had left as soon as he was done fucking her.

Maybe it was the fact that he was picturing himself with Julia. He wanted to know whether or not she was as talkative in the bedroom as she was during the day or if she kept those noises to herself, only letting out the softest of moans or gasps of pleasure. He wondered what she liked; did she like it slow and sensual, hard and fast, or both? Was she submissive or dominant? What were her kinks; spanking, blindfold, dirty talk?

Dean wasn't ashamed to say that he wanted to know everything. He had come to terms with his physical attraction to Julia a while ago, just after he had that dream when she was sick. It wasn't really that he accepted it, it was the fact that more and more he started having dreams about her—most of them were sexy dreams but, here and there, there were some that included them being all domesticated with each other—and when he had sex with Cassie, he was kind of wishing he was there with Julia, instead.

And he had no right to be jealous because they were not together and he didn't even think Julia saw him as anything but a big brother, but he was anyway. When she told him at the bar that she was bringing some pretentious blonde guy she had been dancing with back to the motel, he wanted to say something and deny her but he couldn't. Julia wasn't his—she was a single independent woman who could sleep with anyone she wanted.

Dean just wished it was him warming her bed and not some random douchebag.

He heard Sam's steady breathing quicken from the bed beside him. He looked over as his brother began to squirm in his sleep, no doubt having one of his usual nightmares. It wasn't long until Sam woke, sitting up in the bed.

"Dean?" Sam turned to Dean, his eyes wide with fear.

Dean sat up, too, his voice groggy despite his lack of sleep. "Hey," he said soothingly. "What's wrong? It's the middle of the night."

Sam didn't answer as he turned on the light on the nightstand between the beds. He jumped from his bed and went straight to his bag, hurriedly stuffing his clothes back into it.

"We have to go," he told Dean as he set his bag down and made his way toward the door connecting to Julia's room.

Dean rolled out of bed and fixed his brother with a questioning look. "What are you talking about?"

"We have to go right now," Sam repeated, knocking insistently on Julia's door. "Come on, Julia, wake up!"

Bewildered, Dean slowly walked over to his bag and started packing, leaving out a set of clothes to change into. He had no idea what made Sam so upset but it was worrying him. What if it was another one of those freaky visions Sam kept on having?

The connecting door opened behind Sam's fist, revealing a groggy Julia dressed in her regular pajamas. "What the hell is going on?" she rubbed her left eye with her fist and set her gaze on Sam. "Sam?"

"Just get ready to go," he told her firmly. "Now. We're leaving."

"O-Okay..." Julia shot Dean a curious look but he just shrugged and slid into the bathroom to change.

Twenty minutes later they were checked out of their rooms and on the interstate headed north. Sam had explained that he did have another one of his visions. He told Julia and Dean that he saw a man get murdered in his garage by something invisible and he wanted to be there to save him.

Dean didn't really believe that Sam's nightmare was anything but a nightmare—he hoped, anyway—but Julia could feel the distress pouring off of Sam. He really believed that his nightmare was a vision so she believed it was, too.

An hour into the drive, Sam pulled out his phone to get a location on the man. "McReady. Detective McReady," he informed the dispatch number he called, consulting a fake badge that he had stolen. "Badge number 1-5-8. I've got a signal four-eighty in progress and I need the registered owner of a two-door sedan, Michigan license plate Mary-Frank-six-zero-three-seven...Yeah, okay, just hurry."

He waited on hold, a tense look on his face.

"Sammy, relax," Dean advised him tiredly. "I'm sure it's just a nightmare."

Sam scoffed. "Yeah, tell me about it."

"I mean it," Dean insisted. "Ya know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class nightmare. This license plate, it won't check out. You'll see."

"It felt different, Dean. It was real," Sam sighed, almost in defeat. "Like when I dreamt about our old house and Jessica."

Dean still didn't want to believe that this was a vision. "Yeah, that makes sense. You're dreaming about our house and your girlfriend. This guy in your dream, have you ever seen him before?"

"No."

"No, exactly," Dean nodded in satisfaction. "Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in Michigan?"

"I don't know," Sam's voice took on a tone of annoyance. Dean agreed was Sam was taken off hold. "Yes, I'm here..." he gave Dean a triumphant look as he repeated what dispatch told him. "Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You have a street address?"

Julia reached over the seat, handing him a notepad to write the address down on. He took it and scribbled down a house number and street name.

"Got it, thanks," Sam said gratefully before ending the call.

"It checks out?" Julia asked tentatively, leaning her chin on the back of the front seat.

Sam nodded. "Yeah," he confirmed before turning to Dean, who looked a little freaked out. "How far are we?"

"From Saginaw?" Dean shrugged. "A couple of hours."

Sam pressed his lips together worriedly. "Drive faster."

-

They arrived in Saginaw too late. There were already three police cars and an ambulance outside Jim Miller's house. A crowd of neighborhood residents had already gathered outside the house, watching as two coroners wheeled out their neighbor in a black body bag.

Julia, Dean, and Sam joined the crowd, fitting into the back.

"What happened?" Julia asked the older woman standing next to her.

"Suicide," the woman shook her head sadly. "I can't believe it."

Sam came up on the other side of her, giving her a curious look. "Did you know them?"

"I saw him every Sunday at St. Augustine's," she sighed. "He always seemed so normal. I guess you never know what's going on behind closed doors."

Dean hummed on the other side of Julia. "Guess not."

"How did—uh, how are they saying it happened?" Sam asked delicately.

"I heard they found him in the garage, locked inside his car with the engine running."

Julia inhaled shakily and looked over to Dean. What the woman said sounded exactly like what Sam told them happened in his nightmare—or, vision was more appropriate. Dean looked down at her with fear in his eyes so she quickly grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"Do you know about what time they found him?" Sam continued to speak with the woman.

"Oh, it just happened about an hour or two ago," the woman informed him. "His poor family. I can't even imagine what they're going through."

Julia smiled sadly and looked back at the house. A woman—who she presumed was Jim Miller's wife—was being comforted by a man her age and a younger guy, around Sam's age.

The three of the split off from the crowd to head back to the Impala. Julia had let go of Dean's hand when she saw the upset look on Sam's face and immediately went to him, wrapping her arm around his waist to offer some comfort.

"Sam," Dean sighed, noticing how down his brother was. "we got here as fast as we could."

"Not fast enough," Sam disagreed. "This doesn't make any sense. Why would I even have these premonitions if there wasn't a chance I could stop them from happening?"

Dean just shook his head, his eyes back on the mourning Miller family. "I don't know."

"So," Julia spoke up; if Sam said that he saw someone—or something—killing Jim Miller and it was invisible, didn't it mean this was their type of case? "what do you think killed him?"

"Maybe the guy just killed himself," Dean stated, turning back to Julia and Sam. "Maybe there's nothing supernatural going on at all."

Sam shook his head immediately. "I'm telling you, I watched it happen," he insisted. "He was murdered by something, Dean. I watched it trap him in the garage."

"Like what?" Dean said quickly, more than skeptical. "A spirit, a poltergeist—what?"

"I don't know what it was," Sam grew irritated with Dean's attitude. "I don't know why I'm having these dreams. I don't know what the fuck is happening, Dean."

"We'll figure it out, Sam," Julia assured him.

Sam nodded at her and then eyed his brother, who was looking at him intensely. "What?"

"Nothing," Dean shrugged. "I'm just—I'm worried about you, man."

"Well, don't look at me like that!"

Dean quickly looked away. "I'm not looking at you like anything," he said innocently; Julia rolled her eyes at the both of them. "Though, I gotta say, you do look like shit."

Sam gave Dean his bitch face. "Nice. Thanks."

"Stop arguing, boys," Julia sighed, unwrapping her arm from Sam's waist to walk to the left side of the Impala. "We can pick this up in the morning so—"

"Since when are you in charge, shortcake?" Dean interrupted her with raised eyebrows.

Julia gave him a deadpan face. "Did you want to do the honors?"

"Yes," Dean nodded firmly and cleared his throat. "We'll pick this up in the morning. We'll check out the house. We'll talk to the family."

"Guys, you saw them," Sam stated. "They're devastated. They're not going to want to talk to us."

A slow smirk spread over Dean's face. "Yeah, you're right," he admitted, almost giddily. "but I think I know who they will talk to."

Julia and Sam gave him confused looks, speaking in unison, "Who?"

Dean just winked at them and opened the driver's door, sliding into his seat.

-

"Absolutely not," Julia yelled at Dean, looking down at the costume on the bed. "I am—I can't believe that you—oh, my God, Dean! No!"

"I don't see the big deal," Dean shrugged as he picked up the headpiece that went with her costume. "You'll look hot."

"Nuns are not supposed to be hot," she ripped it away from him with a glare. "and you shouldn't wear that, either!"

Dean looked down at the priest outfit that he had changed into. "Why not?" he looked at her as if it was all perfectly normal. "The family will talk to us if they—"

"It's disrespectful—"

"Like you haven't done disrespectful things," Dean scoffed. "Like last night when you—"

"Dean Jonah Winchester, I will cut off your tongue, I swear—"

"I'd like to see you try, shortcake."

"Ugh, you're so frustrating!"

"Would you guys just shut up?" Sam called as he walked out of the bathroom, changed into his priest outfit with his hair slicked back nicely.

Dean pointed at Julia. "She started it."

Julia gaped at him, amazed by his gall. "I started it? Are you—"

"Hey!" Sam interrupted Julia before she could start the bickering all over again. "Dean, you should have known that Julia wasn't going to wear that. J, you have to dress up as something or no one will talk to you."

"I'm not gonna be a nun," Julia insisted, crossing her arms over her chest. "but, I can be a grief counselor."

Sam sighed and nodded, relieved that she had another plan. "Good, get dressed."

Julia beamed at him and, before she grabbed a change of clothes from her bag, shot Dean a dirty look. Dean just rolled his eyes at her while she stomped into the bathroom to get ready for the wake at the Miller house.

"Churches have grief counselors?" Dean asked Sam, stuffing the nun costume back into its rental bag.

"Some of the bigger ones do," Sam confirmed. "but J was right. This has gotta be a whole new low for us."

"Hey, we want the family to talk to us, right?"

Dean was right; the priests outfits got them into the Miller house without looking suspicious.

"Good afternoon," Dean greeted the man who opened the door and gave the three of them unimpressed looks. "I'm Father Simmons, this is Father Frehley, and that is Miss Stanley, our newest grief counselor. We were sent over from St. Augustine's. May we come in?"

The man pressed his lips together and nodded, stepping aside so they could enter.

"Thank you," Sam said graciously.

"We're very sorry for your loss," Julia gave the man a sympathetic smile.

"It's in difficult times like these when the Lord's guidance is most needed—"

"Look," the man interrupted Dean. "you wanna pitch your whole Lord-has-a-plan thing, fine. Just don't pitch it to me. My brother's dead."

"Roger," a woman's voice spoke up behind them. "please!"

Roger gave her a semi-apologetic look and nodded at Julia, Dean, and Sam. "Excuse me."

The woman walked over to them as Roger moved away. "I'm sorry about my brother-in-law," she said wearily. "He's...he's just so upset about Jim's death. Would you like some coffee?"

Dean smiled at the teary-eyed woman. "That would be great."

Mrs. Miller led them through the house and told them to sit in the living room while she got them coffee. Julia and Dean sat on the three-seater couch, leaving room for Mrs. Miller to sit, while Sam sat in one of the chairs on the other side of the coffee table.

Mrs. Miller soon came back with four mugs and a pot of steaming coffee. "It was wonderful of you to stop by," she said, handing Sam a steaming mug. "The support of the church means so much right now."

Julia smiled and opened her mouth to reply but Dean beat her to it.

"Of course," he said indulgently. "After all, we are all God's children."

Julia pressed her lips together as Mrs. Miller awkwardly turned away from them to put the coffee pot back in the kitchen. She turned to Dean with a glare, watching as he hurriedly picked up one of the cocktail sausages from the plate on the table.

Sam scoffed and shook his head at his brother.

"What?"

"You should probably tone it down," Julia whispered, a little tensely. "No one speaks like that."

Dean rolled his eyes at her and dropped the toothpick back onto the platter. It was then that Mrs. Miller came back and sat down on the couch next to Julia.

"So, Mrs. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?" Julia asked gently.

"Nothing like that," Mrs. Miller shook her head, her voice hitching with emotion. "We had our ups and downs like everyone but we were happy..." she broke down into pain-filled cries. "I just don't understand how Jim could do something like this."

Feeling the genuine grief and sadness in Mrs. Miller made Julia's eyes sting. She carefully grabbed the older woman's hand and held it for a second, offering her comfort. "I'm so sorry you had to find him like that."

Mrs. Miller sniffed. "Actually, our son, Max," she gestured into the dining room, where a guy Sam's age was sitting alone in the corner. "he was the one who found him."

"Do you mind if maybe, I go talk to him?" Sam asked Mrs. Miller.

She gave Sam a grateful look. "Oh, thank you, Father."

Sam smiled and stood up, leaving the living room so he could talk to Max. Dean moved to his brother's previous seat so he could face Mrs. Miller head-on and not have to look over Julia's shoulder.

"Mrs. Miller, you have a lovely home," he complimented her as Julia handed her a tissue. "How long have you lived here?"

Mrs. Miller furrowed her eyebrows thoughtfully. "We moved in about five years ago."

Dean nodded. "The only problem with these old houses," he shrugged casually. "I bet you have all kinds of headaches."

"Like what?"

"Well, weird leaks, electrical shortages, odd settling noises at night," he listed for her. "That kind of thing."

"No," Mrs. Miller. "nothing like that. It's been perfect."

"Huh," he hummed. "May I use your restroom?"

"Oh, sure, it's just up the stairs," Mrs. Miller pointed in the direction.

Julia gave Dean a panicked look, as she had never questioned a family member by herself before. He gave her a thumb's up in return when Mrs. Miller wasn't watching, grabbing a cocktail sausage to go.

"So, Mrs. Miller," Julia took over the conversation now that Dean was gone to look for any abnormalities upstairs. "how long were you and Mr. Miller together, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Almost twenty years now," Mrs. Miller dabbed her eyes with the tissue again. "We worked together and we just clicked. We were married in the summer. It was beautiful."

"It sounds like it," Julia agreed. "Michigan summers are the best, aren't they?"

Mrs. Miller nodded.

They continued to speak for a couple of minutes, with Julia prompting Mrs. Miller to answer most of her questions. It was hard sneaking in if Mrs. Miller knew if her husband had any enemies but somehow, Mrs. Miller didn't think she was a freak. She comforted the woman as best as she could.

"I don't know if this will bring you any comfort, but when my mother died, a verse was spoken at her funeral," Julia shared with her; Mrs. Miller smiled weakly. "It's Psalm 73:26. My flesh and my heart may fail but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. It really helped me through the next couple of days."

"Psalm 73:26?" Mrs. Miller checked, making sure she remember it correctly so she could take a look herself.

Julia nodded, her eyes darting to the side when she saw Sam and Dean walk into the living room again. "I will be praying for you, Mrs. Miller," she promised the woman. "and I hope to see you again."

"You too, Miss Stanley," Mrs. Miller stood up with Julia and gave Sam and Dean grateful handshakes. "Thank you for coming, Fathers."

Dean nodded. "God bless you."

Behind Mrs. Miller's back, Sam and Julia shared exasperated looks.

-

Julia sat at the table back in the motel room, online shopping while finishing up the rest of the salad and fries she had for dinner. Dean and Sam were long done with their eating and now Dean was cleaning their weapons while Sam went through the information surrounding the Miller's house.

Levi and Beth's birthday was only a week away and Julia still hadn't found anything to get Levi. Beth was easy to shop for; she was a typical girl that spoke about her hobbies every time she spoke to someone—just the other day when they had their weekly call, she had mentioned that she'd been baking lately, so Julia got her a couple of cookbooks, a standing mixer, professional baking pans, and a personalized apron. Levi, though, was close-lipped about a lot of the things he enjoyed. He was busy most of the time with PSC as the head of sales but he did make time to work-out, go to church, and visit family.

There was something that Julia remembered about Levi that might lead her to something to get for him. When he was a teenager, she remembered him raving about his science classes. He loved biology and chemistry but his true love was astronomy. He had vacation time coming up—as far as she knew—so maybe a trip to Houston to visit NASA would be nice. That was a great idea and around the same price as Beth's present. She quickly bought the a round-trip ticket from Chicago to Houston and booked the tour of NASA for a day during Levi's vacation.

She popped a couple of fries in her mouth, satisfied; everything was set for the twins' birthday. All she had to do was print out the information for Levi and pick up the presents for Beth.

"What do you have?"

Julia looked up at Dean's question, noticing that he was currently cleaning his beloved saw-off. Something so simple shouldn't have been so attractive.

"A whole lotta nothing," Sam sighed heavily from his spot across the table and stood up to go to the bed they were sharing. "Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built."

"What about the land?" Julia wondered.

Sam plopped down on the bed. "No graveyards, battlefields, tribal lands, or any kind of atrocity on or near the property."

Julia frowned in confusion; then what was the thing that killed Jim Miller?

"Hey, man, I told you," Dean started putting his saw-off back together. "I searched that house up and down. No cold spots, sulfur scent...nada."

"And the family said everything was normal?"

Julia nodded. "Yeah."

"If there was a demon or poltergeist in there somebody would have noticed it," Dean added. "I used the infrared scanner, man, and there was nothing."

Sam sighed heavily. "So, what, you think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sort of freakish coincidence?"

"I dunno," Dean shrugged. "I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house."

A grimace flitted across Sam's face as he reached up to rub his temples. "Yeah, well, maybe it has nothing to with the house," he inhaled deeply, in pain, and Julia gave him a worried look. "Maybe it's just—fuck—maybe it's connected to Jim some other way?"

"Sam," Julia stood up to walk over to him. "are you okay?"

"Ah!" Sam cried out as he winched roughly, moving to cup his head and falling to his knees on the floor beside the bed; while Julia crouched down next to him, Dean got off his bed and rushed over, placing himself on Sam's over side. "My head!"

"Sam?" Dean asked frantically as Sam continued to make anguished noises, unable to answer. "Hey, what's going on? Talk to me."

Sam pulled his hands from his eyes and grabbed one of Julia's arms and one of Dean's to steady himself. Julia inhaled softly as she felt his energy twist—it was almost dark, the way it moved through him, clashing with the brightness of his soul. She grew panicked as he stared at them—even though he wasn't really looking at them but through them.

He was seeing something.

"Sam," Julia tried to gain his attention but he couldn't answer. She placed her free hand on his hand that held her arm. "Sam, come on!"

"Sam!" Dean barked.

Sam blinked quickly, his eyes filling with terror. "It's happening again," he told them, squeezing their arms. "Something's gonna kill Roger Miller."

-

They couldn't save Roger Miller.

They tried to but Roger still thought that they were with the church and he wasn't happy to see them. He went up to his apartment and by the time Sam and Dean climbed the fire escape, Roger's head was chopped off his body with a window.

They were stumped; there was nothing wrong with the house and Dean didn't find anything in Roger's apartment, either. The only thing that connected them—other than the victims being brothers, of course—was that Sam had a vision of both deaths. Figuring that something had attached itself onto the Miller family, they headed back to the Miller house to speak to Max, Jim Miller's son.

"My mom's resting," Max told them as he led them into the living room. "She's pretty wrecked."

"Of course," Dean agreed as he, Julia, and Sam squished themselves into the couch while Max took a chair.

"All these people kept coming with casseroles," Max muttered bitterly. "I finally had to tell them to go away. You know, cause nothing says I'm sorry like a tuna casserole."

Julia smiled at him, trying to hide how uncomfortable the guy made her feel. The energy he gave off, it made a shiver go down her spine. It was dark but it was also familiar. She just couldn't place it.

"So," she pushed away her uneasiness to speak softly . "How are you holding up, Max?"

"Okay," Max shrugged.

"Your dad and your uncle were close?" Sam wondered.

"Yeah, I guess," Max replied. "I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little."

"But not lately much?"

"No, it's not that," he shook his head. "It's just...we used to be neighbors when I was a kid and we lived across town in this house and Uncle Roger lived next door so he was over all the time."

"Right," Sam nodded in understanding. "So, how was it in that house when you were a kid?"

Max hesitated for a second and Julia could feel his energy twisting; anxiety, fear, and relief mixed with the darkness. "Fine," he told them. "Why?"

"All good memories?" Dean prodded. "Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle, maybe?"

Max shook his head nervously. "Why do you—why do you ask?"

Julia's heart dropped at his reaction. He was obviously nervous about Dean's question and the way anxiety and fear seemed to wrap around him so tightly made her think that something bad went on when Max was a kid.

Her eyes stung in realization.

"It's just a question."

"No, there was nothing," Max said after inhaling deeply. "We were totally normal. Happy."

"Good. That's good," there was a sad look in Dean's eyes. "Well, you must be exhausted. We should take off."

"Right," Sam nodded at his brother and then smiled at Max as the three of them stood up. "Thanks."

Max gave them one last smile as he led them out of the house. Julia, Sam, and Dean started walking down to the Impala, where she was parked on the street.

"No one's family is totally normal and happy," Dean grumbled. "Did you see when he was talking about his old house?"

"He sounded scared," Sam nodded.

"He felt scared," Julia admitted; they gave her confused looks. "His energy. At first, it was dark but as soon as Sam asked about the old house, it changed. It was almost all anxiety and fear."

"Yeah," Dean sighed as he opened the driver's door. "Max isn't telling us everything. I say we go find the old neighborhood and find out what life was really like for the Millers."

After Sam hacked into the Millers' records, he found the address of the home they used to live in. It only took twenty minutes to get across town and find the little neighborhood. The houses that Jim and Roger Miller owned were nearly identical, though one was gray and one was mustard-yellow.

Thankfully, they saw that the man who lived across the street was out working in his lawn.

"Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?" Julia asked the man after introducing herself, Dean, and Sam.

"Yeah, almost twenty years," the man confirmed. "Why? Are you looking to buy?"

"No, no," Sam shook his head. "Actually, we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street."

"Yeah, the Millers. They had a little boy named Max," Dean held his hand out by his waist, simulating the height of a child.

The man's face fell. "Yeah, I remember them," he said sadly. "The brother had the place next door. So, uh, what's this about? Is that poor kid okay?"

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, in my life, I've never seen a child treated like that," the man shifted uncomfortably. "I'd heard Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street. He was a mean drunk. He used to beat the tar out of Max—bruises and he broke his arm two times that I know of."

Julia wrinkled her nose sadly. "And this was going on regularly?"

"Practically every day," he nodded; she swallowed down her emotions. "In fact, that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy but the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven of eight times but it never did any good."

"Now, you said step-mother?" Dean asked.

"I think his real mother died," the man sighed. "Some sort of accident. A car accident, I think. It—are you okay, there?"

Julia and Dean turned to Sam, seeing that his face was scrunched up in pain and he was holding his head again. Dean grabbed Sam to make sure he didn't fall and started making his way back to the car.

"Sorry about that," Julia apologized to the nice man. "Thank you so much for your time."

The man nodded. "No problem."

By the time Julia got back to the Impala, Sam was in the middle of another vision. Once Julia was buckled in, Dean drove off, back in the direction of the motel they were staying at. Halfway there, Sam's vision ended and he informed them that it was Max that was killing his family and his next victim was Mrs. Miller.

"You sure about this?" Dean asked, briefly looking at him.

"Yeah, I saw him."

"How is he doing it, though?" Julia leaned toward the front seat. "I mean, how did he get away with it?"

"I don't know," Sam shook his head. "but it look like telekinesis."

"What, so he's psychic?" Dean asked in disbelief. "He's a spoon bender?"

"I didn't even realize it but this whole time he was there," Sam sighed, frustrated. "He was outside the garage when his dad died, outside the apartment when his uncle died. These visions, the whole time I wasn't connecting to the Millers. I was connecting to Max," he shook his head. "The thing I don't get is why. I guess because we're so alike?"

"What are you talking about?" Dean wrinkled his brow. "The dude's nothing like you."

"Well, we both have psychic abilities, we both..." Sam trailed off.

"Both what?" Dean gave him a pointed look. "Sam, Max is a monster. He's already killed two people and now he's gunning for a third."

"But look what he's been through," Julia pointed out. She didn't think killing people was the right thing—that should have never been an option for Max—but he was abused almost all of his life. He was afraid of his father and uncle and his stepmother did nothing to stop it. The people who were supposed to protect him were the ones hurting him in the first place.

Dean gave her a shocked look through the rearview mirror.

"Look, I don't think what he did was right," Julia defended herself. "but his family abused him. He wants revenge."

"It doesn't sound insane," Sam agreed.

"Yeah but it doesn't justify murdering your entire family!" Dean argued.

"Dean—"

"He's no different than anything else we've hunted, all right?" Dean turned down the Miller's street and pulled over in front of their house. "We gotta end him."

"We're not going to kill Max," Sam told his brother.

"Then what?" Dean challenged him. "Hand him over to the cops and say, 'Lock him up, officer, he kills with the power of his mind'?"

"No way," Sam shook his head firmly. "Forget it."

Dean turned off the engine. "Sam..."

"Dean, he's a person. We can talk to him," Sam stated. "Hey, promise you'll follow my lead on this one."

Dean paused for a couple of seconds; Julia watched him carefully. "All right, fine," he finally agreed. "but I'm not letting him hurt anybody else."

He leaned over Sam's seat and opened the glove compartment, pulling out the gun he hid inside. They all got out of the car and Dean put the gun in his waistband while they walked up to the door.

They didn't wait to be polite and ring the doorbell. Dean busted through the front door and Julia and Sam quickly filed in, all three of them stopping in their tracks when Max and Mrs. Miller turned to look at them.

"Fathers?" Mrs. Miller asked, bewildered. "Miss Stanley?"

Max looked at them with tired and blank eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, sorry to interrupt," Dean said casually while Julia waved at them.

"Max, can we talk to you outside for just one second?" Sam asked politely.

Max's face instantly turned suspicious. "About what?"

"It's—it's private," Sam faltered. "We wouldn't want to bother your mother with it."

"We won't be long, Mrs. Miller," Julia assured the woman sweetly. "I promise."

Mrs. Miller gave Max a nervous look until Max agreed. "Okay."

"Great."

Max walked over to the door, passing Sam and Julia on his way. When Dean opened the door for him, he paused. The door and all the windows snapped shut at once, leaving the house a little darker and a whole lot scarier.

"You're not priests," Max backed away and declared as Dean drew his gun.

The gun flew out of his hands, into Max's. He turned it around and held it on Julia, Sam, and Dean.

"Max, what's happening?" Mrs. Miller cried nervously.

"Shut up!"

"What are you doing?"

Max simply looked at her and she was airborne, crying out when she slammed her head against the kitchen island and landed in a heap on the floor.

"I said shut up!" Max yelled at her, his face turning crimson red.

"Max, calm down!"

"Who are you?" he looked back to Sam.

"We just wanna talk," Sam assured him.

"Yeah, right," Max scoffed and nodded at the gun. "That's why you brought this!"

Julia breathed in shakily as she read Max's energy. It was so much darker than before. There was so much hate and sadness and fear that it was turning him into a monster. Maybe Dean was right...

"That was a mistake, all right," Sam tried to calm his down. "So was lying about who we were...but no more lying, Max, okay? Just please, hear me out."

"About what?"

"I saw you do it," Sam admitted to him. "I saw you kill your dad and your uncle before it happened?"

Max blinked at him, the gun still aimed toward him. "What?"

"I'm having visions, Max," Sam told him. "About you."

Max shook his head. "You're crazy."

"So, what, you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?" Sam tapped his left eye. "Right here? Is it that hard to believe, Max? Look at what you can do. Max, I was drawn here, all right? I think I'm here to help you."

Tears started rolling down Max's red cheeks. "No one can help me."

"Let me try," Sam insisted. "We'll just talk, me and you. We'll get Dean, Julia, and Alice out of here—"

"Nuh-uh," Dean interrupted, shaking his head angrily. "No way."

"Sam..." There was no way Julia was going to leave Sam by himself with Max, especially if Dean stayed, too.

The chandelier that hung above Julia and Dean's head started to shake. Julia's eyes immediately went to it, growing wide in fear when she saw that it was about to fall on them.

"Nobody leaves the house!" Max demanded angrily.

"And nobody has to, all right?" Sam quickly placated him. "They'll just...they'll just go upstairs."

"Sam, we're not leaving you alone with him," Dean argued.

"Yes, you are," Sam didn't even look at Dean as he responded, his eyes still on Max. "Look, Max, you're in charge here, all right? We all know that. No one's going to do anything you don't want to do but I'm talking five minutes here, man."

"Sam!"

Max looked at Mrs. Miller before turning back to Sam. "Five minutes," he agreed as the chandelier above Julia and Dean stopped shaking. "Go!"

Julia quickly tapped Dean's arm before rushing into the kitchen to help Mrs. Miller. Dean followed her, taking the brunt of the older woman's body as they got here out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Mrs. Miller directed them into her room, her face soaked with the blood that fell from her cut brow. Dean sat on the bed with her while Julia rummaged around in the master bathroom, looking for a first aid kit. She finally found one in the back of the cupboard behind the sink. It wasn't filled much but it had enough to disinfect the wound and place a bandage on it.

Julia was in the middle of cleaning Mrs. Miller's wound when the door slid open by itself. Max walked through the door, Dean's gun still in his hand, and the door slammed shut behind him. When Dean went to move to defend Mrs. Miller, he was thrown back into the wall behind Julia.

"Max," Mrs. Miller said sadly as Julia scrambled to her feet to stand in front of her when he aimed the gun at her.

"Max, please don't do this," Julia begged him. "We can help you."

Max simply cocked the gun; Julia gulped heavily. Then, she felt a hand grabbed her elbow and forcefully pull her to the side. Dean took her place in front of Mrs. Miller, glaring at Max with hard eyes.

"Stay back," Max ordered him as he dropped his hand and let the gun float in the air. "It's not about you."

Dean shook his head. "You want to kill her, you're gonna have to go through me, first."

"Dean!"

There was no emotion on Max's face. "Okay."

The door burst open and Sam appeared, his face crazed with urgency and panic. "No, don't!" he yelled at Max. "Please, Max, we can help you, all right? But this, what you're doing, it's not the solution. It's not going to fix anything."

Max shook, his face deep red as he cried. He stared at Sam for a long time, desperation and misery in his expression. "You're right."

Sam smiled, relieved that Max was going to listen to him, but it quickly fell when the gun swung in the air to face Max.

"NO!"

The gunshot rippled through the air and the bullet pierced Max's forehead, dropping his body to the ground. Julia stared at his body in shock, her eyes flickering to the massive amount of blood and brain matter on the wall behind it.

-

"Max attacked me," Mrs. Miller tearfully told a deputy that had come to get her statement about Max's death. "He threatened me with a gun."

The police officer nodded over to Julia, Dean, and Sam, who were standing near her to give her support and make sure she didn't mess up the cover-up they concocted. "And these three?"

"They're family friends," Mrs. Miller's wet eyes trailed over to them. "I called them as soon as Max arrived because I was scared. They tried to stop him; they fought for the gun."

"Where did Max get the gun?"

Mrs. Miller's face crumpled as she started to sob. "I don't know. He showed up with it and..."

"It's all right, Mrs. Miller," the officer tried to comfort her.

"I've lost everyone," she sobbed heavily.

It was clear that the officer didn't know how to comfort a crying woman. He awkwardly turned to Julia, Dean, and Sam, and told them, "We'll give you a call if we have any further questions."

Julia smiled half-heartedly. "Thank you, Officer."

Dean patted Sam's arm while taking Julia's hand to tug them out of the house. "Come on."

As soon as they were walking on the sidewalk down to the Impala parked at the side of the road, Sam started up with his self-deprecation.

"If I'd just said something else," he sighed sadly. "Gotten through to him somehow."

"Don't do that, Sam," Julia took his hand while still holding Dean's with her other. "You did what you could."

"You can't torture yourself," Dean added seriously. "It wouldn't have mattered what you said, Max was too far gone."

Sam shook his head. "When I think about how he looked at me, right before...I should have done something."

"Come on, man, you risked your life," Dean let go of Julia's hand and unlocked Baby, opening the driver's door. "I mean, yeah, maybe if we had gotten there twenty years earlier."

Sam inhaled deeply as he and Julia walked around to their side of the car. "Well, I'll tell you one thing," he said to Dean. "We're lucky we had Dad."

Dean gave him a surprised, but pleased, look. "Well, I never thought I'd hear you say that."

Sam shrugged. "Well, it could have gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we could have had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out okay thanks to him."

Dean nodded in agreement. "All things considered."

(Gif is not mine)

[apomaro-mellow]

What has changed?

So yeah, we can all agree that airing episodes out of order can hurt things like character development. But there is some kind of progression and things are escalating. And I kinda disagree with the fact that some people are saying s3′s finale is the same as s2′s.

So what has changed between Origins and Miracle Queen?

1. Marinette’s confidence as a civilian - We can see that before the new school year, she let Chloe bully her around. It’s only after defeating an akuma for the first time (and meeting Alya) that she starts standing up for herself. Pre-season 1!Marinette probably would have never stood up to Lila the way she did in Chameleon.

2. Marinette’s responsibility as Ladybug - This one is a less dramatic change, but one nonetheless. In Origins, she gave up her miraculous the moment things got tough because she thought she wasn’t capable. In Miracle Queen, things are even rougher and she does need to be comforted twice, but she never considers giving up. 

3. Knowledge of the miraculous - This one covers a lot of ground. In the beginning, only Marinette, Adrien, Gabriel, and Fu had any knowing of the miraculous. (And possibly Nathalie, we don’t know for sure when she got clued in to HM). By the end of season three, Marinette knows all the powers of every miraculous. She and Adrien know how to combine two miraculous. And each know their powerups (water, ice, etc). 

Gabe has been presumably decoding the book’s texts which was in his possession pre-season 1.

Half of Mari’s class knows what a miraculous is; that it comes with a kwami and grants superpowers, as well as the time limit as opposed to the beginning. LB and CN came out of nowhere to fight a monster that also came out of nowhere.

4. Akumas in Paris - Going off the last thing I said, Parisians reactions to akumas, which have become normalized. They’re still a scary thing of course. But before, folks would have no idea what was going on or why. Now there’s “akuma alerts”, presumably in most public buildings as we saw in the Louvre during Riposte. Now citizens know that not only will there be at least 2 heroes taking care of it, but that any damage will be fixed in the end. And knowing is half the battle as we see in the few times a person has either fought against Hawkmoth or avoided an akuma altogether because they’re aware that they feed on negative emotion.

As much as we decry Chloe’s development, she is the first to actually refuse akumatization when HM’s already in her head, showing us that it can in fact be done.

5. The Guardian(s) - Initially, only Marinette knew Fu from the beginning of s2. Adrien met him and presumably learned a bit more partway through the same season. In Feast, HM finds his true identity and this all comes to a head in the s3 finale.

Fu did give up his guardianship in that same finale and now HM seems to be back at step one because he doesn’t know who LB is. But now there’s a bunch of guardians in that newly rediscovered temple which must certainly be a plot point in the coming seasons (one would hope).

And Ladybug is the guardian now. With Fu’s memories gone, she is the highest authority among the Parisian heroes.

She could find out Chat Noir’s identity through necessity

She can hand out miraculous at her discretion. We’re definitely going to see more of her classmates get a miraculous (as confirmed through the leaks)

And this possibly means more kwami interactions. Either between themselves, Marinette, or their future holders and speaking of.....

6. Future Miraculous holders - So, Hawkmoth knows the faces of all the part time heroes and he certainly must recognize a few of them as Adrien’s classmates. Chloe could possibly know as well. Being akumatized seems to cloud the victims memories at times, so it’s uncertain how much of Miracle Queen she retained. So what’s in store for them now? If we go by the show’s rules, none of them can ever use a miraculous again (or at the very least not the same one). And this is where the other miraculous come in, I’m sure.

The point is, HM could very well draw conclusions about LB and CN’s identities based on the allies they chose.

7. Adrien’s rebelliousness - Technically the first time we see Adrien, he’s being a rebel, going to school against his father’s wishes. But as the seasons went on we see him doing more and more to go against Gabe. Whether it’s escaping his room as Chat Noir or just straight up lying about where he’s going (Desperada, Frozer, Startrain). And we see this result in him ditching an official event in Loveater that Gabriel is even attending (as a tablet but still)! Something pre-season 1!Adrien may have never done.

8. Hawkmoth - Season one he’s just a dude in his attic acting alone with his akumas. By the end of s3 we know the villain is the father of one of our heroes, doing this to restore his comatose wife. And by this time, he has allies. Mayura, who is Nathalie, who was in on the scheme possibly from episode 1. Lila, his part time minion. And now he possibly has Chloe, who at this point is disillusioned by Ladybug.

9. Chloe - Oh lawd, here we go. Okay, yes, her development seems all over the place but let’s just focus on where she started to where she is by the end of Miracle Queen. In Origins, she’s the queen of the school. No one stops her from doing anything and they just kind of roll their eyes while letting her do her thing. 

Starting with Alya, people start to challenge her. Marinette and Adrien have done so as well, forcing her to consider the way she treats people. And from the beginning, she’s in love with LB (interpret that how you will).

By the end of s3, she’s been told to her face how she needs to treat people and how she needs to act if she really wants to be a hero. But in the end, she fights against Ladybug, willingly. She welcomes an akuma (almost twice) putting her in the same league with Lila. 

I believe in s4 we’ll see a Chloe who is very much like s1!Chloe, except we’ll understand her motivations and the choices that led up to this and know that she doesn’t mean to be good for good’s sake but would rather do anything, even evil, to be taken seriously.

10. How Adrien sees Marinette - Oh LAWD here we go! In Origins, Adrien certainly notices her. As someone who doesn’t hesitate to tell someone off when they’re doing wrong. Adrien ends up making amends because he wants to make nice with everyone. And from then on, he and Mari are friends in his eyes. And while some of us lament that “just friends”, friendship is very important to someone who has been isolated his whole life.

S2, Adrien acknowledges her as their “everyday Ladybug”, which means he sees how she helps everyone and always does the right thing, which he finds admirable.

By the end of s3, he’s actually seen her in action as Multimouse. He has seen her being a hero in and out of costume at this point. Whereas before she was probably just one of many friends he wanted to make, now she’s an important friend, and an incredible one at that. 

11. How Marinette sees Adrien - I’m not gonna say too much here because I wanna get into the lovesquare as a whole, but suffice to say, this dynamic has changed. Marinette went from not knowing who Adrien was, to being obsessed with him, to realizing that maybe it’s time to move on and that perhaps they’re better as friends

12. The Lovesquare - whooo boy. I want it to be known that because this is a children’s show, I’m betting on all sides of the square being resolved and together by the series end. I’d be surprised if any of the tertiary pairings (Lukanette & Adrigami) were seen through til the end. That being said, the status of our main couple has changed quite a bit. I already mentioned the possibility of Ladybug having to know Chat Noir’s identity due to her being the guardian, so just imagine that extra layer over these.

Ladrien

These two couldn’t look at each other two seconds without blushing and turning into babbling messes. We know Mari’s arc is leading her towards Luka and away from Adrien. Adrien’s is possibly leading him to Kagami, but a big part of his is his indecision. And this could mean that in the future, while he no longer flirts with LB as CN, he may try and shoot his shot with her as Adrien instead.

Marichat

In s1, LB’s attitude towards CN carries over into her identity as Marinette, which we see in Evillustrator when she mocks him. But come Glaciator and she finds out his feelings for Ladybug are serious, which is reinforced in Weredad. Seeing as Marin is moving towards Luka and Adrien towards Kagami, this could open up the door for a true Marichat friendship

Adrienette

This side of the square is pretty much “dead”. And I mean that in the sense that as of right now, neither is looking at the other as a romantic option. Marinette is moving on and Adrien never saw her that way to begin with. I’m sure this is something that will change is s4 and s5 and we might even experience a shift in the dynamic (reverse lovesquare anyone?). But as of right now, this might be the most platonic side of the square except for possibly....

Ladynoir

Remember in the beginning of Loveater when Chat Noir said he had a girlfriend and we all clutched our metaphorical pearls before he said “just kidding :3c” That might turn into a real conversation now if Adrien’s seriously going to date Kagami. Which means he won’t be flirting with LB. And Ladybug might be surprised this time around, but as we saw before, she would also be supportive. He’ll still be punning and she’ll be rolling her eyes, but now there’s no romantic advances on his part, which I’m sure LB will appreciate. But this could be potential for friendship and thus a stronger partnership.

And those are all the things that have changed from Origins to Miracle Queen. If I missed any, go ahead and lemme know.

[rosedavid]

Ambi eskimos one shot

“Hold still, just a few more finishing touches...”

“You said that twenty minutes ago!” Amber complains, although there’s no real anger in her tone. 

Knowing her better than anyone, Andi also knows that Amber isn’t actually upset with her. Still, both of them are hot and tired from sitting in Andi Shack for the last two hours. As much as Andi loves it, she also acknowledges that it doesn’t have air conditioning, which can be a real problem in the heat.

Trying to cure her boredom, Amber asks, “What is this for again?” 

“My fashion class,” Andi sighs. “I loves fashion, but making your clothes for someone else is harder than it looks. We’re supposed to have a whole outfit designed by the end of the semester. This top is just the beginning.”

“Can I see it yet?”

“Not until it’s done!” Andi laughs, as Amber has asked this question multiple times in the past hours. “Now, pass me that fabric beside you?”

Amber does as she says, loving how their fingers just barely touch when she hands Andi the fabric. She watches fondly as Andi sews, tip of her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth. One of Amber’s favorite things about Andi is that no matter what she does, she always does it with a passionate fire in her eyes. 

Eventually, Andi notices her girlfriend staring as she works. Distracted, Andi keeps looking up at Amber, giggling more and more each time. 

“Why are you staring at me?” Andi wonders, giggles still bouncing off the walls. 

“Because you’re beautiful, especially when you’re doing art,” Amber answers immediately, causing a blush to flourish across Andi’s cheeks. 

“If you keep saying things like that, I’ll never get this done.”

“Does that mean I should try harder, Bambi?”

Despite the fact that Amber loves to tease Andi, she also wants to give her time to finish this project that she’s been stressing about. So, after the last comment, she stays quiet for awhile, admiring the new artwork hanging across Andi Shack. Technically, it’s not Andi Shack anymore, it’s “Andi’s Art Studio,” but Amber has a fondness for the past name, as does Andi herself. 

Although the area is much less cluttered than before when Andi’s shown her it, it’s slowly filling up with new artwork and supplies. Many of the art in there right now is from her work at SAVA. She’s experimented with paints, sculpting, chalk, and now fabric so far. Although Andi has loved trying new forms of art, Amber notices how she always goes back to her crafting. When they first got together, Andi made Amber her own bracelet which she now wears everyday. 

“Annnd I’m done!” Andi grins, picking up the bundle of fabric. “Now you can try it on.”

“Me?” Amber questions, taking the shirt from her with confusion. “You made this for me to wear?”

“Well, duh. I mean, it’s easier when you have a model. I could have asked Buffy or Cyrus to do it, but well...you being here inspires me, actually. And I love spending time with you, especially since it’s been a struggle recently.”

Amber smiles, bringing Andi into a hug. “I’ve missed you, too, Bambi. I can’t wait to try it on.”

They tighten their arms around each other briefly before pulling away. Amber leans in, and they peck each other’s lips. Before fully moving back, though, Amber rubs her nose against Andi’s nose, making them both laugh. 

“You’re adorable,” Amber says.

“You’re more adorable,” Andi challenges. 

“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree. Now let me put this shirt on.”

Andi turns around while Amber shrugs the fabric over her shoulders. The material is actually much softer and smoother than she expected, and fits pretty much perfectly. 

“Okay, you can turn around!”

Andi does so, beaming when she sees Amber wearing her shirt. Amber looks down at it as well, amazed with how beautiful it is. It’s unlike any shirt she’s ever seen, and the style is such a perfect combination of her and Andi. 

“You look so pretty,” Andi gapes, grasping the sides of her arms to get a better look. Suddenly, she gets bashful. “Do you think it’s okay?”

Amber can’t help but lean forward and kiss her cheek. “I think it’s perfect.”

Send me andi mack fanfic prompts!

[diningpageantry]

But That’s It

Chapter 2 of Love You All, Die For This

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15909690/chapters/37269380

Word Count: 2161

Summary: A final confirming visit to the doctor's. Some doubts float around, and a tad of false hope for Simon.

Notes: once again, thank you to my betas @ravenclawbaz and @jessethejoyful !!!

BAZ

My hands trace around the steering wheel, feeling the leather glide across my palms as my fingertips tap to the music. It’s something of Simon’s choosing. I don’t mind The Strokes, really, but a song about a sexual dystopia without reproduction feels like an interesting pick for the ride to the doctor’s office. I won’t question him, though (I doubt he knows the connotations), because Crowley, he seems happy enough right now with that tattered, paint splatter smile strewn across his face as his head turns to look at me and hum along.

By the way he smiles, you’d think that we’re ready for anything. That the concept of a ‘No’ is out of the picture; that we’re both okay, and we will be.

That, deep down, I’m not egregiously nauseated by this visit. That my chest is ripping itself to shreds as my mind runs laps, reminding itself over and over that this is more than uncertain; if anything happens, it’s pure fucking luck.

Hell, it’s luck that we found a magickal doctor to confide in about the vampirism.

For Fiona’s sake, I can’t claim that we found the doctor; it was more of her threatening the living dead of London for a reliable name in the business, then word of mouth to another reliable name, to a doctor focused on magickal surrogacy. Fiona threatened to torch his practice to the ground if word leaks that I’m a vampire.

To avoid complication, it’s easier to say we found someone.

As we pull into the lot for his practice, I can’t help but move in faster, jerking motions. Park. Unbuckle. Step out. Slam the door. Look at Snow. Wait. Tap my foot impatiently. Jut out an arm and practically yank him inside, heart pattering faster and faster and faster and faster and—

The brush of Snow’s hands against my jaw stops me outside the glass doors, his sweet breath tickling the underside of my jaw as he looks up at me. “Hey,” he murmurs, eyes darting around my face as I straighten out more. Composure. Don’t lack composure, don’t let it slip, you’re in control— “Baz, darling, love, sweetheart, honeybee, baby, honey, calm down. You’re getting all ‘dark and brooding’ again, and you don’t have to be. This is just discussing logistics.”

My heart keeps pounding, but I exhale slowly, letting my features soften to his touch. “I’m just worried, that’s all.”

“I know.” A finger sweeps across my forehead, tucking a loose strand behind my ear as Snow presses his lips to my cheek. “But it’s not the end of the world, yeah? We’ll do this. I love you.”

“I love you too,” I reply automatically, finding his hand and giving it a warm squeeze as he drifts back to stand beside me. He guides me in, his presence as prominent as always; even without magick, Snow still garners attention from everyone in the room.

I trail behind comfortably, sending icy glares at anyone who looks too long. Sure, the tail and wings are spelled away, but I don’t want it blasted out to the entire magickal world that Natasha Pitch’s travesty of a gay (vampire) son and his now (mostly) Normal husband are trying for a baby.

It feels weird simply existing. For the entirety of November, we’re bombarded with emails from eager third years at Watford in their Magickal Histories class asking about our lives. I blame Mrs. Bunce for that; she’s got a unit on The Mage’s rise and fall of power, and Simon, Penny, and I encompass two of ten sections. While I agree that history should be taught, I disagree that we require so much attention for what we did. It wasn’t heroic, nor was it ‘brave’.

It was scarring.

My mind continues to wander around, spinning off the tracks thinking of what others will say once it’s known that we’re trying for a child, until Snow’s hand gives a tug to my own. We’re being called back. Shit. Fuck.

I jerk my head towards the door and stand briskly, arm wrapping protectively around Snow’s waist as we walk back to the office.

The incessant buzz of the fluorescent light greets us before anything else.

Off-beige rug. Typical seats (slightly discomforting green pads with a metal frame). A large wooden desk, organized to a T. There sits the doctor, head raising to meet us as he stands up. “Mr. and Mr. Pitch,” he says calmly, extending a hand. Soft spoken. Raised in power, raised with money.

I shake it first, then wave to Simon to shake. “Pleasure to meet you, Doctor Bradford,” I say coolly, eyes drifting around the room. Medical degree. Family pictures. Thank you notes. Mild-mannered, everyday man. Mundane.

Perfect.

He waves his arms, urging us to sit as he pulls our paperwork up and clears his throat. His eyes flicker over it nervously, and I can’t help but smile secretly. Whatever Fiona said to him must’ve gotten to him.

“Quite an interesting case,” Dr. Bradford states flatly, glancing back to us and clearing his throat. “Well, given your… condition… I have to admit, there’s a level of uncertainty.” The clacking at the keyboard stops abruptly, his chair swiveling as he faces us completely. His hands meet in the way that adults always do; folded together, palms pressed and holding so many words back as to not let you in; to keep you at bay.

It makes me want to throw a brick at his face. “My condition,” I draw, eyes carefully narrowing onto him as the words smooth around my mouth. He’s a target. I’m aiming my brick. “Yes, well, we are trying, nonetheless. I want to make that clear.” My back straightens, trying to press guilty words from my throat. Snow, forgive me. “We need a magickal child, or no child at all.”

The doctor simply nods, pursing his lips as he glances to Snow. Our grip tightens automatically. “I’m sorry for your loss,” the doctor says quietly, and I know that phrase. I know Snow knows that phrase. We both hear it in our sleep at this point; the pity smiles and hand pats. Everyone treats Snow as if a part of him died; it’s only socially acceptable to mention the dead part of him if in mourning. I barely hear him as he continues, my mind usually shuts off after those words (because they’re ridiculous, and a tad insensitive). “I’m sure it brings a strain, but, given the situation, would you care to share about any and all magick you have experienced post…” He’s clearly searching for the right word, lips drawn together tightly as the seconds tick. “Loss?”

I feel Snow’s neck bob without even seeing it; his signature ‘Words are hard’ swallow. “None,” he eventually lets out. His foot is rattling beneath him, and he’s squeezing my hand in a counting pattern. One two three, pause, one two three, pause. “Besides the appendages. Since there’s no blood test, no nothing to trace me back to magick or any sort of family, I guess all that’s left of magick in me is surface-deep.”

A brief moment passes, the doctor shifting the paper in front of him to align with the straight edge of the desk before clearing his throat. “While it’s only a hypothesis, it’s possible you carry magick as a dominant gene that was genetically mutated. This would leave you open to providing sperm as well, but it’s a risk that I’m unsure you’re willing to take.”

Snow’s eyes burn through me, but I keep mine locked to the paper on the desk. I can’t force myself to look at him, afraid of my reaction. It’s the false hope we’ve heard before; the idea that he has some sort of magick—some sort of something left in him. It’s not worth hyping. “I think it’d be best to not venture down that path.” My words tumble out of my gut rather than my head, spilling out in front of us and starching the air. My eyes keep transfixed.

Both heads turn to me, keeping there as the buzzing lights seem to grow louder, swallowing our thoughts. I don’t dare meet either of them. I beg, I plea internally that it’s dropped, that it’s left.

That it’s not our car ride conversation; that Snow won’t put any newfound hope into a basket and waltz it around until it shatters in his grip once again.

“Then we should consider how magick flows in your family,” the doctor breaks and lets me breathe again. I let my eyes drift back as Snow’s downcast to the floor in balance. “Do you know much about it?”

I exhale slowly, fingers drumming against Snow’s knuckles. “I know that both my mother and my aunt were powerful, but my mother was more so. I was her only child, and my father has power, but not quite as much. My step siblings are relatively strong, so I’d assume that anything I’d pass down would be of similar power.”

The doctor nods thoughtfully, writing it down. “You’ve already given sperm, correct?”

I nod, trying to swallow away the feeling that Snow’s already spiraling in silence.

“Good; you both signed everything, correct? As in, everything is in order, including the studies?”

I nod again, for the both of us this time. Crowley, Snow’s frozen. “Everything’s set on our part.”

Doctor Bradford glances between us swiftly before nodding curtly. “Yes, good. That should be all for now. We’ll contact you with information regarding the insemination.”

I skim over the niceties; the forced smile, the handshakes, the thank-you. I let them slip out of me as if I were on autopilot as I lead Snow out and into the car.

I take the moment to buckle him, eyes studying his face. He’s blinking. He’s there, but his body’s ahead of his mind.

His mind is across the trimmed grass nearby, nestling away from his consciousness. I want to spell him back. I want there to be a spell to bring him back.

The ride back begins as silent, then he nearly scares me half to death five minutes in with a brush of his hand against mine.

I pull over at the mere touch, eyes urgently flickering over my zombified husband. “Yes, love?” I urge out as calmly as possible.

There’s nothing more that I loathe than treating Snow like a scared animal; skittish and frozen with an over-beating heart. He’s pathetic like this; he’s the Snow who I nearly lost to a lash out and a four day bender all those years ago. The one I woke up to a phone call from at 4 am. A tired voice and a weak “Baz? I fucked up. I fucked up, I’m fucked up, I’m so scared, Baz, please. I’m—“

“That sucked,” he whispers, leaving me to uncontrollably burst out into a relieved sob-laugh as a hand shoots to my mouth to cover it. My dampening eyes barely push open to watch him start to snicker, biting down onto his lip.

I unbuckle impulsively and launch myself at him, arms throwing around him and dragging him closer to me. “Fucking hell, Snow, you were scaring me half to death. I was nearly sure you’d go off. Oh fuck, don’t do that again, I don’t know what to do without you here with me. Fuck.”

His laughter tickles my chest, leaving me feeling all swirly and woozy inside. Fuck. Fuckfuckingfuckfuckfuckingfuck. “I was just thinking, love. I’m okay, I promise. Sure, it hurts, but I’ve figured by now that it’s really gone, and nothing they say will help that. I’m okay, Baz. Sto—Baz, I’m okay.” His hands cup my jaw, wiping away the tears still streaming out. “I’m sorry, love, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I cut him to a stop, pressing my face stubbornly into his neck as I cling to him, sink into him, stay with him. Lock him in, lock him close. Keep him, my Simon, close. “I love you, dear, but shut up.”

His body shakes with a laugh, fingers shifting through my hair comfortingly. I let myself indulge in his forehead-kisses and strokes of my upper back as I find myself, and try not to get lost again.

I sit up, sit back. He pats my thigh, rubbing it twice before taking my hand. “Take us home, please. I want to not think about that meeting as much as possible before anything else happens.”

I bite back my lip from a full smile, swallowing what was left of a sob as my back straightens. “Agreed.” My hand releases his, shifting from park to drive. “Do you want to rent a film?”

“Hm, sounds like a plan. It’s my pick, though.”

“Oh like hell I’m letting you put me through another old Bond film. It’s disgustingly heterosexual—“

“Fine, fine. We’re watching Kingsmen, then.”

I purse my lips, tapping the wheel a few times. “We’ll see about that.”

[okamikami1996]

Silent Moon ep 1 “Evening’s Encounter”

Fade In:

INT. DARKENED APARTMENT— NIGHT

PETRA SIGGINS, a 37 year old woman with bobbed, black hair, and proud, cold, gray eyes lays on the ground for presumably the first time in her life in fear. Someone in a dark green hoodie stands over her.

PETRA

No…

The hooded figure comes closer to her, each step making her inch backwards until she hits the wall.

Fade outside of the apartment where Petra’s screams rise into the night air.

INT. DARKENED APARTMENT— DAY

The apartment is filled with officers— some taking photos of the crime scene, others taking finger prints from surfaces, others still taking samples of the blood splattered all about the room. The chief— a lorkieshin with black hair and pale skin— steps through the front door and into the living room. This man is TSUGAMI BELROT.

TSUGAMI

(To himself)

Jeez, someone had a good time…

Tsugami scans the apartment taking in the blood and the markings on the wall— too covered with blood to clearly see what they say— before his attention focuses on the victim and his most trusted partner, a Mukev with brown eyes and a shaved head named ROGAN WILT who looks up and gives him a grim smile.

ROGAN

Chief Tsugami, welcome to the party.

TSUGAMI

Clearly it was really good time… (nods to the body bag) The victim?

Rogan nods, stands, and peels off his gloves.

ROGAN

(sighs) Petra Seggins. Age 37. A Lume and a professor at Rikrhim University.

Tsugami nods.

TSUGAMI

Looks like our newest playmate

for our recent troublemaker.

ROGAN  

Not just her.

Rogan motions to one of the younger officers with short, brown hair and blue eyes (Tyler Vise) who hurries over and hands him a notebook. Rogan takes it and flips a couple pages in.

ROGAN (CONT’D)

Lizabeth Warran, age 22. A student at Rikrhim University.

TSUGAMI

A student was here?

ROGAN

Well, not here…

TSUGAMI

Spit it out, Rogan.

Rogan sighs.

ROGAN

Well, it would seem the student was nearby and saw our man exit the apartment. He killed her too.

TSUGAMI

Our only witness?

ROGAN

Well, our other witness was Andy… he died trying to catch him.

TSUGAMI

Shit.

Tsugami turns and heads out the door.

TSUGAMI

Tyler.

TYLER

Yes, sir.

TSUGAMI

Make sure you compile everything we dig up in this place, I want it on my desk tonight.

TYLER

Yes!

TSUGAMI

Rogan, we’re leaving.

ROGAN

Where to?

TSUGAMI

We have a university to visit.

Int. Paranormal Research Facility (Old Chemistry Lab)— day

A girl with long, braided, black hair and red, framed glasses with an apathetic expression sits at a desktop. This emotionless piece of work is NICOLE SWANSON. Nicole sighs.

NICOLE

It’s about time she gets here.

A cat Lorkiershin with short, black hair and green eyes runs into the room. She has a black ribbon tied around her neck adding to her overall cat-likeness. She has black ears and a black tail. This is Ribbon. Ribbon holds up a piece of paper.

NICOLE

What took you?

RIBBON

Sorry Nicole, had to loose an extra tail.

NICOLE:

I told you there would be trouble on the way back…

RIBBON

Sorry… (holds up the paper) but, look! I got the numbers!

Nicole takes the paper and adjusts her glasses as she studies its contents. Finally she puts it aside.

NICOLE

Good job, Ribbon! Now.

(Stands up and grabs her bag)

Let’s get going.

RIBBON

You figured out which number it is already?!

Nicole throws Ribbon her schoolbag.

NICOLE

No. Because someone was late getting back,

we’re going to be late for class.

RIBBON

Aw.

Int. Class 1-32- day

A plump, balding man stands at the podium with Tsugami and Rogan. This man is the dean of Rimrhim University, Charles Dickens.

CHARLES

And so, I will now turn the podium to—

Nicole and Ribbon open the door and stumble through it, panting.

NICOLE

I told you not to run passed them, you fool!

RIBBON

Nya…

CHARLES

(Clears his throat)

You may take your seats, ladies.

Nicole and Ribbon move to their seats in the back. Tsugami takes the spot behind the podium.

TSUGAMI

I am Tsugami Belrot, Chief of City Outpost.

This is Rogan Wilst.

FEMALE STUDENT 1

He’s a vork!

FEMALE STUDENT 2

So hot!

NICOLE

Vork… a race classified by their black cornea

and golden iris. Interesting…

RIBBON

Yeah.

Ribbon’s ears twitch and she stares at something shimmering next to Tsugami.

TSUGAMI

As I’m sure you’re all aware by now, there’s been a series of murders recently. I am here to inform you that your professor, Petra Seggins has been one of the victims.

NICOLE

(mutters) and Lizzy… (To Ribbon) Has she become a Catros?

Ribbon stares at the shimmer becoming clearer at the podium.

NICOLE

Ribbon?

RIBBON

A Halos…

NICOLE

What?

An officer with angel blond hair and blue eyes stands next to Tsugami trying to get his attention. This is Andy Helm. Ribbon’s right ear twitches.

TSUGAMI

If any of you have information that could help our investigation, please contact this number.

Rogan begins to write a number on the board, after writing about five digits, a chair clatters attracting his attention. Ribbon walks down the stairs and stands before Tsugami at the podium and watches Andy for a moment.

ANDY

Chief Tsugami! Hey c’mon! I need to tell you something! Why can’t you listen to me?

Andy’s form becomes darker.

ANDY

I just want you to know I have the report you asked for…

TSUGAMI

Something wrong?

Ribbon is silent as she looks at Andy.

CHARLES

Miss Ribbon, this is not—

Tsugami stops him.

RIBBON

Andy wants to tell you something…

CHARLES

Miss Ribbon—

Tsugami interrupts him.

TSUGAMI

And what does Andy want to tell me?

Andy perks up and looks at Ribbon.

ANDY

Can you hear me?

Ribbon nods. Andy smiles and grasps Ribbon’s shoulder.

ANDY

Great! Please, tell the Chief…

RIBBON

He wants to inform you that he has sent you his report. It’s in your email, and that it was a pleasure to serve along side you, Chief Tsugami. He has always looked up to you and is happy that he could die as a man. Are you proud of him?

ROGAN

Andy…

TSUGAMI

He was a good officer and a brave man.

Andy smiles and turns back to Ribbon.

ANDY

Thank you.

Andy fades away into a shimmering light.

TSUGAMI

How exactly do you know about—?

Nicole appears behind Ribbon and pulls her ear.

RIBBON

Ow! Ow, ow, ow! My ear!

NICOLE

Jeez! There’s more appropriate ways to help spirits. How many times have I told you… (huffs and turns to Tsugami and Rogan) Sorry about this, my cat is very drawn to the unseen.

CHARLES

That does not excuse—

NICOLE

No. Of course not. We’ll excuse ourselves, Mr Dickens!

Nicole turns to leave and opens the door, still dragging Ribbon by her ear.

RIBBON

Ow! Nicole..! My ear! You’re hurting it!

The door slams shut on the way out. Rogan approaches Tsugami.

ROGAN

Huh.

TSUGAMI

What do you think?

ROGAN

About those two?

TSUGAMI

What else do you think I’m talking about?

ROGAN

I think that girl might be a force to be reckoned with, in many ways.

TSUGAMI

That’s an understatement…

ROGAN

But..?

TSUGAMI

What about the Lorkiershin?

ROGAN

I have to say, I haven’t seen one since the Great War. They’ve nearly all been wiped out. From what I heard, they do have amazing instincts.

TSUGAMI

Instincts enough to know about a report that’s supposed to be classified?

ROGAN

Hey. Your guess is as good as mine.

CHARLES

Although, I’d hate to admit it… Those two have a real track record of knowing things no one else could.

ROGAN

What do you mean?

CHARLES

Well…

Ext. Green; Rikrhim University- day

Nicole and Ribbon sit under an oak tree eating lunch. Ribbon rubs her ear. Nicole puts down her sandwich and reads the paper from earlier.

RIBBON

Jeez! Hold back a little!

NICOLE

I see no reason to.

RIBBON

Because I’m your best friend.

NICOLE

You’re a terrible actor.

Ribbon sniffles. Nicole sighs and pets her head. Ribbon grins and leans into her hand, purring happily. Nicole stops petting her.

NICOLE

You’re still in trouble.

Ribbon falls onto her lap and paws at Nicole’s braid, purring loudly. Nicole sighs, and strokes her ears gently.

NICOLE

You’re devious…

Ribbon laughs. Tsugami and Rogan stand over them, startling her.

NICOLE

Can I help you?

ROGAN

May we sit down?

NICOLE

You’re blocking the sun.

TSUGAMI

Seriously?

Ribbon laughs, sitting up from Nicole’s lap.

RIBBON

That’s Nicole for: “Hurry up and sit down”.

ROGAN

Oh? Guess we’ll do that.

Rogan and Tsugami sit down. Ribbon stares at Tsugami.

TSUGAMI

Something wrong?

Ribbon quickly looks away.

RIBBON

Sorry! It’s just I was happy he’s moved on.

ROGAN

Who?

NICOLE

Get to the point. You’re being a nuisance.

RIBBON

Nicole…

TSUGAMI

Someone with a mindset I can agree with, good. This’ll save some time. I want to know—

NICOLE

You want to know how Ribbon knew about the officer and the report.

ROGAN

Yes. That document was highly classified and extremely problematic in the wrong hands.

NICOLE

If Ribbon really did get that document through underhanded means and if she really was going to blackmail you with it why would she do it face to face with a full audience?

TSUGAMI

Mostly because she seems like a natural dimwit.

RIBBON

Huh?

ROGAN

Tsugami…

NICOLE

(sighs) Yeah, well, I can’t really disagree with that…

RIBBON

Hey! You guys are mean! I just wanted Andy to move on!

TSUGAMI

How did you know he died?

RIBBON

Well, he was standing right beside you. I may be stupid, but at least I’m not blind or deaf, like some people.

Rogan glances around and Nicole sighs.

NICOLE

He’s not going to be there anymore.

Rogan looks surprised.

NICOLE

Ribbon did just say he found the afterlife.

ROGAN

The afterlife?

TSUGAMI

Spirits? Do you think we’re stupid?

RIBBON

No.

NICOLE

I do.

RIBBON

Nicole!

NICOLE

Listen, it’s not our fault if you don’t believe us.

ROGAN

Listen, this kind of thing will need an investigation. Maybe you should—

Nicole stands.

NICOLE

There’s no reason to avoid an investigation of a crime we’re not guilty of, yes? (To Ribbon) Let’s go.

Ribbon stands.

RIBBON

Right… (To Tsugami and Rogan) Have a nice day!

Ribbon and Nicole leave. Tsugami and Rogan watch them go.

ROGAN

She’s a real piece of work.

TSUGAMI

She’s a bitch.

Rogan laughs.

ROGAN

It’s not everyday someone can get the better of you.

Tsugami sighs.

ROGAN

What’d you think about the Lorkiershin?

TSUGAMI

She’s an idiot.

ROGAN

But..?

TSUGAMI

She doesn’t seem to be a liar.

ROGAN

Yeah, I don’t think she has the ability to lie.

TSUGAMI

Exactly.

ROGAN

I do find it strange though… Why just “Ribbon”? No last name?

TSUGAMI

It’s interesting all right.

Tsugami and Rogan watch Ribbon and Nicole avoid a group of boys. The girls hurry around the corner and the boys follow them.

ROGAN

Looks like they have some friends.

TSUGAMI

Hmph! And she didn’t invite us?

ROGAN

It’s not too late.

Int. Paranormal Research Facility (Old Chem. Lab)— day

Ribbon and Nicole enter the lab and collapse, panting hard.

NICOLE

Jeez, why is all this happening to us today?

RIBBON

What do we do if they actually find us here?

Nicole stands and gets a nearby metal pole.

RIBBON

Nicole?

NICOLE

Take out your claws.

RIBBO:

Eh?? But, but—

NICOLE

It’s self defense, Ribbon. We can’t let them walk all over us forever. Especially if they come here!

RIBBON

Yeah, but—

Ribbon hears footsteps approaching and runs to Nicole’s side taking out some stirring spoons. The footsteps stop outside the door.

NICOLE

Steady. Ready…

The door opens and Tsugami and Rogan a step inside. A bunch of spoon whiz passed their faces. Rogan and Tsugami look behind them and find that the spoons have all gone through the wall behind them.

ROGAN

What the fuck?!

Nicole sighs and puts down the metal pole. Ribbon lays down her spoons.

NICOLE

Such vulgar language…

TSUGAMI

Trying to kill us?

NICOLE

If Ribbon wanted to kill the anyone who entered that door you’d be dead. We only wanted to issue a warning…

TSUGAMI

For those boys from earlier?

RIBBON

Yeah, they’re pretty scary! Not the kind of customers I’d want in here!

NICOLE

I’m impressed you noticed, I guess you have the title of Chief for a reason.

ROGAN

A compliment!

RIBBON

Uh, no. That was her nicely telling you that you’re useless…

TSUGAMI

What?

NICOLE

I already know you didn’t tell off those idiots.

ROGAN

No. We put everything we had into tracking you.

NICOLE

I already said that.

TSUGAMI

You..!

RIBBON

Oh boy! (Get’s between Tsugami and Nicole) Is there something we can help you with?

TSUGAMI

What?

NICOLE

Well, you clearly followed us for a reason, right?

ROGAN

I don’t know about that…

RIBBON

You don’t need to lie to us.

TSUGAMI

How exactly do you know—

Ribbon’s ear twitches.

RIBBON

You get louder what you want to cover up something and you’re failing.

TSUGAMI

Wha?

NICOLE

Ribbon doesn’t just see spirits, she can sense people too. Their presence, their emotions, what they are looking for, even when they lie.

ROGAN

That’s impressive.

RIBBON

Aw, shucks! Anyways, so what did you come for? What kind of job do you have for us?

TSUGAMI

What do you mean?

NICOLE

You spoke to Mr Dickens… or at least he spoke to you…

ROGAN

How did you?

RIBBON

She’s reading your tarot cards as we speak.

TSUGAMI

A Rukia?

RIBBON

No, Nicole’s a Lume.

NICOLE

If the Rukia knew about me then there really would be an uncomfortable investigation…

RIBBON

They don’t like people like them who aren’t one of them. Diviners are really proud people.

TSUGAMI

I noticed…

NICOLE

In any case, what is it you want to ask us?

ROGAN

We want to know more about what you do.

NICOLE

You want to observe us?

RIBBON

Why?

TSUGAMI

To see if you’re the real deal, and not a bunch of fakes.

ROGAN

And if you are the real thing, we want to recruit you.

NICOLE

Interesting…

RIBBON

Recruit us for what..?

Nicole stands and approaches Tsugami and Rogan.

NICOLE

Alright, you can follow us, but there’s a catch.

TSUGAMI

What gives you the right?

NICOLE

(grins) Oh, are you going to do an investigation, if we refuse to let you tail us?

TSUGAMI

And if we do?

NICOLE

I think you’re going to need a permit.

Rogan laughs.

ROGAN

It’s not often someone can stand up to our illustrious chief and win! I’m beginning to like this girl!

NICOLE

Well, now that we have that decided, it’s time to get to work. Ribbon, I think I found our client!

RIBBON

Whoa, already? (goes over to Nicole) That’s Nicole for you!

Tsugami walks over and leans over Ribbon’s shoulder. She stares at him and blushes. Nicole stands and removes a deck of tarot cards from her bag.

NICOLE

Let’s see if we can pinpoint her next location.

TSUGAMI

Using tarot cards?

NICOLE

Indeed.

ROGAN

Interesting.

A boy with brown hair and blue eyes appears next to Ribbon. Ribbon smiles at him. Nicole finishes flipping over her tarot cards.

NICOLE

She’ll be at the Public Library at 3:00.

RIBBON

Cool. Let’s go!

NICOLE

Right. Do you have that?

RIBBON

Yep. Tommy gave it to me just now.

ROGAN

Who’s Tommy?

RIBBON

Tommy Butcher. Little brother of Lidea Butcher.

NICOLE

Alright. I’m ready. Let’s get going.

RIBBON

Right.

Ext. Outside Tokagetsu City Library— day

Nicole and Ribbon wait at the bottom of the stairs of the City Library. Rogan and Tsugami stand just down the street watching them intently. A woman with short, brown hair and kindly eyes walks lightly towards the library. This is Lidea Butcher. Ribbon smiles at Tommy.

NICOLE

Alright, Ribbon. Engage.

Ribbon runs towards Lidea.

RIBBON

Ms. Butcher!

Tsugami and Rogan approach Nicole.

NICOLE

Jeez, and I told you to wait back there.

TSUGAMI

We can’t hear from back there.

NICOLE

You’re in uniform.

ROGAN We aren’t planning to get in the way, just to observe.

NICOLE

You are getting in the way just by being here.

TSUGAMI

Not our problem.

Nicole turns away from them.

NICOLE

Useless!

LIDEA

(to Ribbon) I’m sorry, but have we met?

RIBBON

No. I do know Tommy though.

LIDEA

Tommy passed away. He’s gone.

RIBBON

Yep.

LIDEA

Please excuse me.

Lidea moves passed Ribbon.

RIBBON

Hold on, Linni!

Lidea stops.

RIBBON

Tommy would always call you that, right?

Lidea slowly turns back towards Ribbon.

LIDEA

Tommy was a quiet child. He hardly had any friends, at all.

RIBBON

Nope, because he never needed anyone. He had his older sister.

Lidea begins to tear up.

LIDEA

It’s my fault he died!

RIBBON

It’s not.

LIDEA

It is!

Nicole appears behind Lidea, surprising her.

NICOLE

Why would it be your fault?

Lidea notices Tsugami and Rogan approach and her eyes widen.

LIDEA

Am I to be arrested, then?

Nicole sighs and turns to Tsugami and Rogan.

NICOLE

See? You guys basically breed people’s discomfort.

TSUGAMI

We can’t leave you two alone.

ROGAN

(TO Lidea) Sorry, Miss. We’re not here to arrest you.

TSUGAMI

We’re watching them.

Tsugami points at Ribbon and Nicole.

RIBBON

You don’t have to make us sound like degenerates!

TSUGAMI

Wow. You know some impressive words for an idiot.

NICOLE

Enough! We are overwhelming her. (To Lidea) I apologize for the commotion. Those two are some of our lackeys.

RIBBON

She means interns.

NICOLE

No. I mean servants. They are too useless to be anything exuding competence.

LIDEA

I see…

NICOLE

In any case, you said Tommy’s death was your fault. Why?

LIDEA

The day he died we were in a fight. We never really clashed before, not like that…

Int. Flashback— day

A younger version of Lidea stands across from Tommy (looks the same).

LIDEA

Why would you do that? Caden and I were going to be married.

TOMMY

You were going to leave me behind.

LIDEA

Yes! That’s what it means to get married, to live with your husband. To fight our battles together. To be with each other. To have kids and grow old! But now, you’ve ruined all of that!

TOMMY

You wanted to leave me behind! I can’t live without you in this house! It wouldn’t be home anymore!

LIDEA

Listen, Tommy, eventually you’ll have to grow up! Find some friends!

TOMMY

No! I only need you Linni!

LIDEA

Enough!

Tommy flinches.

LIDEA:

You’re horrible! Why can’t you just be happy for me! Why do you have to get in the way of my happiness?

Tommy runs out of the room crying.

Ext. Outside Tokagetsu City Library— day

Lidea has sat down on the steps. Ribbon, Nicole, Tsugami, and Rogan stand near her, listening.

LIDEA

He jumped off the bridge into a river. It’s all my fault.

Ribbon hugs Lidea, startling her.

RIBBON

Tommy has never blamed you for that fight. He never jumped off that bridge.

Lidea pushes her away.

LIDEA:

How do you know? You could never know.

Ribbon takes out a large locket and holds it out to Lidea. Lidea stares at it.

LIDEA

My…

Lidea slowly takes the locket from Ribbon, cradling it gently.

LIDEA (CONT’D):

My Grandmother’s Locket. How? I lost this years ago…

RIBBON

Tommy took it.

LIDEA

Then he really was—

RIBBON:

(interrupts Lidea) He wasn’t angry. (sighs) Open it.

Lidea opens the locket and pulls out a folded paper. She opens it to reveal a portrait of Lidea in her wedding dress.

LIDEA

This is…

RIBBON

Tommy drew that to congratulate you on your wedding. He had trouble fishing it out from the river.

Lidea cries, and Ribbon holds her close. Tommy stands behind them smiling. Slowly he disappears.

TOMMY

Thank you.

A flock of doves flutter into the sky. Nicole watches them ascend and sighs.

NICOLE

May you find peace in death.

RIBBON

May you find an end in the heavens.

NICOLE AND RIBBON

Amen!

Int. Paranormal Research Facility (old chem lab)— evening

Nicole, Ribbon, Tsugami, and Rogan sit in the room silently. Nicole types fiercely on the keyboard. Ribbon sits at the table drawing happily on a piece of paper, humming. Tsugami watches them closely. Rogan yawns and goes over to Ribbon and looks over her shoulder at her drawing.

ROGAN

This is a Keppish…

RIBBON

Yep! They’re really nice.

TSUGAMI

You’re drawing? You really are stupid.

RIBBON

I am not.

TSUGAMI

Nicole’s doing all the work, while you’re drawing.

RIBBON

You’re not doing anything either!

NICOLE

That’s true. I think I’m thirsty.

Nicole turns in her chair.

NICOLE

Ribbon, Tsugami. Go get me coffee.

Tsugami AND RIBBON

What?

NICOLE

You heard me.

TSUGAMI

Why do I have to get you coffee.

NICOLE

I’m sorry, but you do remember becoming my vassal, yes?

RIBBON

Well, what about me? Why do I have to go?

NICOLE

You’re being loud.

TSUGAMI

Why isn’t Rogan going?

NICOLE

He isn’t being loud.

ROGAN

I like this girl.

Nicole claps her hands.

NICOLE

Now, off you go. My usual.

Ext. Macen Street— evening

Tsugami and Ribbon walk down the street towards the Alpah Coffee Shop.

RIBBON

That’s Nicole’s favorite coffee shop.

TSUGAMI

Let’s just get this over with.

RIBBON

Mr. Belrot?

TSUGAMI

What did you call me?

RIBBON

Well, it is your last name right?

TSUGAMI

(sighs) Is there a reason you care?

RIBBON

Well, you are going to be working with us for a while, so…

TSUGAMI

I am not your lacky. This entire thing will be over as soon as we get back.

Tsugami walks into the shop.

RIBBON

I never called you a lacky…

Ribbon follows Tsugami into the shop but is stopped by three men. Rivit Esclair, the ring leader of the gang, is a snobbish lad with a smirk and an air of importance around him. Joe Kruush, Rivit’s personal worshipper, is a broad chested lad with brown hair and a red face. Lastly, Benny Lawrance, Rivit’s attack dog, is a blonde streaked lad with countless piercings and wild green eyes. Ribbon freezes.

RIVIT

Hello, Beast. Where’s your master?

RIBBON

Nicole’s not here.

RIVIT

Sent you to fetch something for her, like a good little dog?

RIBBON

I’m a cat Lorkiershin. Besides, you have a dog of your own.

BENNY

You talking about me?

Rivit motions him back.

RIVIT

Mind your tongue, you ill mannered beast.

Tsugami steps out of the coffee shop.

TSUGAMI

Ribbon!

Ribbon looks at him and blushes.

TSUGAMI:

C’mon! We have coffee to get remember?

JOE:

Why don’t you mind your own business?

TSUGAMI:

The safety of the public is my business. Ribbon included. Now, I’d better not see you hustling anybody anymore, understood?

Tsugami flashes them his badge. Rivit smiles pleasantly.

RIVIT:

I see no reason for you to worry. (To Joe and Benny) Let’s go.

Rivit, Benny, and Joe disappear into the crowds. Ribbon looks up happily at Tsugami.

TSUGAMI

What?

RIBBON

You called me by my name.

TSUGAMI

So?

RIBBON

You’ve never done that before.

TSUGAMI

That so?

RIBBON

Yep! That’s so! It makes me really, really happy, Mr Belrot!

TSUGAMI

Tsugami.

RIBBON

What?

TSUGAMI

Having you call me Mr anything is unsettling. It’s Tsugami.

RIBBON

Tsugami…

Ribbon grins. Tsugami turns and goes into the coffee shop.

TSUGAMI

C’mon. You’re the only one who knows what that psycho wants.

RIBBON

She’s not psycho, she’s psychic. There’s a difference.

TSUGAMI

Let’s just get this over with.

Tsugami grabs Ribbon by the hand and leads her inside.

Int. Paranormal Research Facility (old chem lab)— night

Ribbon and Tsugami walk in still holding hands. Nicole adjusts her glasses. Rogan whistles.

NICOLE

I was wondering what was taking you so long. I never would’ve guessed you could move across the bases so quickly. Tsugami you are bold, sir.

Tsugami throws down Ribbon’s hand.

TSUGAMI

It’s not like I wanted to hold it. She gets lost like it’s her profession. No one in their right mind would go anywhere near first base with her.

NICOLE

(sighs) Set the coffee there.

Tsugami slams the coffee down.

TSUGAMI

C’mon let’s go.

NICOLE

Weren’t you going to shadow us?

TSUGAMI

I see no further reason to never set foot in this hell hole again!

Tsugami leaves. Rogan sighs.

ROGAN

It was nice to meet you two. If you hear anything about your professor’s murder, let us know.

NICOLE

Of course.

RIBBON

Yeah…

ROGAN

(to Ribbon) Sorry about that. Tsugami isn’t used to women. It’s nothing personal.

Rogan turns and leaves. Nicole sighs.

NICOLE

Sorry. I was kind of hoping he would be nicer to you if he were to go on an errand with you…

RIBBON

It’s fine… I’m going to go for a walk…

NICOLE

See you back at the dorm.

RIBBON

Yeah.

Ext. Main Street— night

Ribbon walks over a moonlit bridge, and enters a nearby park. She sits on a park bench and sighs. Rivit, Joe, and Benny stagger into view.

RIBBON

(mutters) You smell like alcohol…

RIVIT

Yo, monster. All alone, are we?

Ribbon gets up.

RIBBON

Leave me alone, Rivit. I’m not in the mood.

Rivit laughs.

RIVIT

Not in the mood? Why? Did you get dumped?

Joe and Benny snicker.

RIBBON

It wasn’t as if I wanted him to like me anyway! Shouldn’t you be somewhere else? I’m not in the mood to deal with you.

There’s a loud gunshot, and Ribbon freezes to see a bullet embedded in a nearby tree. Rivit holds a gun and aims at Ribbon. Ribbon backs away.

RIBBON

Seriously? You’re going to kill me?

RIVIT

Let’s play a nice game of tag. It’ll be fun, right?

Ribbon turns and runs away back to the bridge. Rivit and the others laugh.

RIVIT (VO)

Run, kitty, run!

After a short chase, Ribbon finds herself running across the bridge. Time slows down as Ribbon looks over the bridge.

RIBBON (VO)

Fate is a funny thing. Nicole had told me that it isn’t completely unavoidable, so I wonder sometimes: would things have ended differently had I ran somewhere else?

Rivit and the others run out of the park, and Rivit holds up the gun.

RIBBON (VO)

What if I never said anything to Tsugami and Rogan? Would I have avoided anything?

Nicole runs on the other side of the bridge, trying to get to Ribbon.

RIBBON (VO)

I guess I’ll never know, because now…

Fade to black. We hear a gun shot.

NICOLE (VO)

(Screams) Ribbon!

We see Ribbon fall into the water in slow motion, blood spreading across the fabric of her clothing. Ribbon hits the water, but not before getting one last look at Nicole who is reaching over the bridge, crying. Fade to black.

RIBBON (VO)

Now the wheels of fate have begun to turn.

Skip to:

Ext. Downstream— night

Ribbon lays unconscious on the river’s shore, we can’t see the bridge anymore, but the park’s path still stretches out here, so we can be sure it’s near the city. We hear a shrill, careless whistling tune and see a man in a green hood with a dragon moon insignia on the back walk down the path. This is all we can see of Rouge for now. He stops.

ROUGE

Well, what do we have here?

Rouge walks down to where Ribbon lays.

ROUGE

Hmm, a Lukiershin. A special breed too. (Kneels beside Ribbon) Hey now! Still kicking?

Ribbon moans softly, and curls weakly into a ball.

ROUGE

It is cold out tonight. Can’t have you dying in the cold like this.

Rouge takes off his jacket and covers Ribbon with it. He walks away and we see long, crimson hair but not his face.

ROUGE

You have a major role to play, after all.

Fade out.

ROUGE (VO)

To change the world.

END EPISODE ONE

[christianmenatwork]

The End or the Means-Selah32-CMAW108

What You'll Hear:

S

The End from the Means

The Election - is Trump winning this election an end or a means, have you fallen in love with Trump and he's the end, is he a means to the end of his policies that you agree with, but are his policy preferences an end or means, if the "end" we're pursuing is God's Will and the advancement of His Kingdom, are conservative policies perfectly in line with His will?, what is God's will?  We can learn from teachers whether it's your favorite pastor with a TV or Radio Ministry, a teacher of Conservative Ideas like Dennis Prager or Rush Limbaugh.  But are these teachers an end in themselves or a means to the end of us learning truth, and are they best source of learning truth consuming most of our time and energy, or should we prioritizing reading God's word and spending time with Him in prayer as being a better source of the truth than any teacher we listen to,

let's now talk about work - is work an ends or a means?  I believe it's unique in that it's both, it is an end in that God gave us work as His first action after creating man, so that He intends work to be a part of His plan for our existence here on earth, but can also serve as an end to other means including providing for family, loving others, serving God,

being healthy, my target is 160-165, was at 190, made significant changes in diet and exercise and got to target, have since fluctuated and am currently at 175 which is the result of getting sloppy in some areas and making corrections to get back to target, are my behavior changes the end or the means, they are certainly the means, is my weight the end?  No, it's so that I have more energy and my body is healthier since it's not managing extra weight, glorifying God by treating my body as the temple of the Holy Spirit and I'm glorifying God,

Another example - we're now in a Messianic Congregation, following the Torah, Christianity has erred by dismissing the Torah, recognizing we're not saved by following the Law and we're saved by grace, but it's still God's will for us to follow the Law, am I following the Law as an ends or means, it's a means, Jesus said "If you love me, keep my commandments" I follow the Law as a way to show God I love Him, I'm learning in a class about Jewish History, after Titus destroyed Jerusalem and the Jews were expelled, there was a movement to create a new form of Judaism which rejected "The Way" or what we call "Christianity", and they started treating the Oral Torah as scripture equal to or even above the written Torah, they created the Talmud in two parts, the Mishnah is a commentary on the Torah, the other, Gemara, is a commentary on the Mishnah, or you could say a commentary on the commentary, even during the time of Jesus the Pharisees were treating their traditions of men as equal or above the written law, as I read scripture, I believe that Jesus didn't blast them for following the Law, but because they were treating their man-made rules as scripture, the Oral Torah were boundaries to give more definition to how to keep the Torah, for example the Torah says Honor the Saabath, the Oral Torah specified how to keep the Saabath, this is not bad as long as they are still treated as boundaries not the Law, we shouldn't be going right up to the line and see how close we can get to the Law without breaking it, 

Another illustration of this is in statistics, I've spent most of my career in manufacturing, we've statistically determined 2 levels on either side of a target, control limits and specification limits.  A control limit is a point at which you make a correction, the limit farther out from the target is a specification limit, and when you get beyond that limit it is unacceptable.   For example just for illustrative purposes let's say we need to cook in an oven breakfast cereal at 100deg, we know that if it gets down to 80deg we won't kill bacteria and it could hurt someone so we throw it out, if we go up to 120deg we'll burn it and it will taste horrible.  80 deg and 120 are the specification or spec limits.  Based on past history and some statistic formulas we set guidelines between target and spec limit, for example if get above 100deg or below 90 deg we make an adjustment in the temp of the oven to prevent us from getting out of spec, another statistical rule says even if we don't go outside those control limits but stay too long on either side of the target, for example we have 3 data points above the target then we make a correction, ideal is to be fluctuating on either side of that target, this system was developed because it works and because it's a reflection of how God made the universe, if we apply this to the other examples I've discussed, with health I'm making a significant change when I get over 175 to keep me from getting to an unacceptable weight, just saw documentary about Karen Carpenter and how she died of a heart attack, probably related to how she had gotten to such a low weight and was dealing with anorexia but not addressing it, very sad story, she wasn't making a correction in her life, 

Christian Denominations - I've adjusted my negative opinion about us having so many denominations, my pastor has shown me it's not necessarily a bad thing, they are different ways of applying principles from the Bible, most differences are not salvation issues, they are a means to an end, the problem is when the differences are so far away from our target which is God's truth and God's will, in the same way Rabbinic Judaism has placed the traditions of men above the Law and they have missed Jesus as their Messiah, I would be remiss if I didn't comment on the Holidays practiced in Christianity, I believe History tells us that Christmas and Easter were created by Rome to make the new official religion of Christianity palatable to their Roman Pagan citizens, I believe by basing these holidays on Pagan Holidays they are missing the mark and God did not tell us to do these, I know many of you feel that because your intent is pure then these Holidays are just a means to an end, I respect your opinion on this but respectfully disagree and I encourage you to learn more about the history of these holidays and a good place to start is the Playlist on Pagan Holidays found on the TruthUnedited.com website, we should all be like the Bereans, as described in Acts 17:11 "These were more fair-minded than those in Thessalonica, in that they received the word with all readiness, and searched the Scriptures daily to find out whether these things were so."

Before I finish up, I want to revisit the issue of politics and the election.  I'll just be blunt and say that I believe this election was illegally stolen and Joe Biden is not the legitimate winner of this election.  That's my opinion, it's not proven fact and I don't see how it will be possible to prove it regardless what happens as we move forward with lawsuits, etc. I'm very concerned about the policy changes that will most certainly be coming as a result of Biden/Harris taking office, particularly if they end up taking the Senate as well.  At the same time of all this craziness, I've been noticing a significant increase in opportunities for me to share my testimony and speak into others who are not believers.  Romans 8:12 says "All things work together for good, to those who love God".  If we truly believe that God's will is the end and everything else is a means, we should not assume that a more socialist leaning USA will not in fact be a primary driver toward revival and more people coming to Christ, and if that is the case we should welcome it.  We should also be very careful not to make a savior out of any man including Donald Trump.  As I've discussed in the past, I've been trying to lower my energy invested in politics and I'm using the current situation as an opportunity to accelerate that change in my life. I recently spoke with a man I respect who use to be a political junkie like me but now checks in with the news a couple times a month.  Though that seems impossible for me now, I see the peace in his life and the wisdom from his lips, and say there has to be a connection between his change in focus to the change in his heart.  I want some of that.

  E - James met just got out of jail, age 33, for me it took 3 years to give up on my failed business after I got saved and went back to get a job and stopped running up my debt.  After a series of bad choices, James is now living with his sister and they are helping him get a job in their local area.  It struck me that a job was a natural first step for him to set a new, positive, Godly path for his life.  What a gift God has given us with work and our job and we should praise Him for it everyday.  Please be in prayer for James.

L - ps 37:7-9

A - remind you that my book "Jesus is at Work" is available on Audible.  Still have it as a goal to get it published on Amazon as an ebook or hard copy.  I'll let you know when that happens.

  H

  Email-declare email bankruptcy to get to 0 inbox

Check out this episode!

[peachingboy]

BNHA Light Novel No.2 Trans

Chapter 4, AB Union: A Girls Only Gathering Part 2

[Part 1] 

t/n this has to be my favourite part of the chap, everyone talking about the boys and their boyfriend potentialness lol ahhh <3 p.s sorry if this a little short of a part!

The girls conversation felt like it hit a dead end when Hagakure suddenly had an idea to propose.

“Alright so!, what about something wild?”

“Wild?” Tsuyu was puzzled at the sudden proposal, Yanagi also who had her head slightly tilted to the side.

“Wait, that’s a little…”

“What do you mean by wild you ask? Well, for example in both Class A and B who would you have as your boyfriend… something like that.” Hagakure went on to explain, as Ashido just nodded in agreement whilst snacking on her food.

“But how do we choose a person?”

“Even though this is a girls gathering, we still need to have some pointless, idle talks right, this could also help our communication skills!”

Yaoyorozu was uncertain by what what Ashido had just said, however Kendou who was sat beside her just smiled, Yaoyorozu could already get the gist of the situation and decided to just play along.

“Alright, I guess this contributes to experience.”

“Okat lets start! If you had to choose someone to have as a boyfriend who would you pick?”

“Boyfriend?” The girls were in deep thought whilst Ochako was beet-red in the face, however as everyone was left to think of a guy, no one could up with a person.

“Everyone looks so serious.” Ashido pursed her lips, if you was to compare this to shopping, it felt like even if were to exclude the necessities, there wasn’t anything they wanted. (?)

“Ah, it looks like no one is able to get into the swing of things.” said Kendou who felt like this was about to reach a dead end whilst Yaoyorozu nodded in agreement.

“We’re all classmates, with the same ambitions to become a hero, they’re also our rivals.”

“Yeah, that’s right, there isn’t a guy we’d want as our boyfriend.”

“If you said it like that our gathering will be finished Kyouka chan.”

“….ah” Just at the same time it seemed like Yaoyorozu had remembered something.

“What is it Yaomomo? Is there a person you’d like as a boyfriend?!” Ashido was brimming with expectations as she scoots in closer.

“Not me, I meant Kyouka san.”

Kyouka was caught off guard by the sudden mention, Yaoyorozu who was sat next to her was filled with excitement at the love story that was about to unravel.

“Kyouka san seems really close with Kaminari san, if I can recall, they often talk to eachother too… How about Kaminari san?”

“Wai- Stop that! Anyways, he’s just an easy person to talk with, he’s fun and we just play around alot.”

The conversation was taking a steer towards Kyouka’s direction as she grew obviously embarassed, Tsuyu placed a finger on the bottom of her mouth as she gave the situation some thought.

“Is that right? If you went out with Kaminari san, it seems like he’ll be devoted and filled with surprises.”

“Eh? Tsuyu chan, is Kaminari kun the type you like?”

“No it’s not like that, it’s only because Kaminari likes girls alot, isn’t that right?”

Kyouka was embarrassed by Tsuyu mentioning Kaminari’s love for girls while the rest of the girls tried to think like guys but they were just left blank with nothing to say.

.... atleast he’s  better than Mineta.

“mhm” Koudai gave one clap in agreement as she nodded her head, everyone exchanged looks with eachother while waiting for the next person to start.

It felt like they were taking on the roles of common villains banding together.

“Compared to Mineta, anyone is better.” said Kendou as Ashido nodded in agreement as she wiped away happy tears.

“Is there a person like Mineta in B?”

“Nope, nope, our guys are pretty hard-headed, ah, actually we do have a Monoma though.” said Kendou as she looked like she was recalling some memories whilst fiddling her fingers.

Monoma is the person who opposes whatever A does, his soul is a little.. yeah he’s that kind of pupil.

“Monoma huh?”

“Yep.”

“Monoma..ha…”

Koudai just nods in agreement to whatever Yanagi was saying but it seems though Monoma was a bit strange, he was still accepted amongst them.

“He does have a pretty good looking face, but it’s a shame his insides are a bit!” said Hagakure.

“But if we’re talking pretty  boys, isn’t it Todoroki?” Ashido mentions.

“Oh yeah..” It looks like everyone just remembered his existence, he was a pretty boy who had this impression where he’d seemed like he’d only do things at his own pace.

It seems like everyone didn’t have anything to fault Todoroki on as a boyfriend, however..

“Ahhh isn’t he’s Endeavours….?!!” Kendou exclaimed.

And within that moment everyone had the sudden image of Todoroki’s dad flash in their head, it’ll be really hard to have any sort of confidence to try and get along with someone like that.

“Nope, nope…”

“I agree, he’d be really strict with his son’s girlfriend.”

The A girls were imagining how intimidating he would have been, however Shiozaki motionlessly shuts her eyes and then opens them again before trying to explain her stance on Endeavour.

“That angry temperamental side of him, it’s probably from having his heart hurt, I would want to give him healing.”

“Ibaraki!” Don’t tell me! You… Endeavour?!”

A Schoolmates dad? He’s the number 2 hero too, isn’t that kinda immoral?! Kendou and the girls were shocked, but Shiozaki just calmly shooked her head.

“All living things are entitled to love, I just want to give his soul healing, by no means does it mean romance and also, I don’t have a type.”

“Phew, I see, you gave us quite a shock.”

“Yep.” Yanagi and Koudai mentions in a monotonous tone.

“Shiozaki seems like a very serious person doesn’t she?”

“If we’re going to talk about serious, it’s definitely Iida chan.”

“Ahhh! A’s class president.”

“You’ll never be able to play around with Iida but i’m sure if you were to date him, he’ll try to change his seriousness.” said Yaoyorozu as everyone tried to imagine what it’d be like to date Iida.

The serious Iida, he will always be on time for dates, however, the rest is sort of hard to imagine.

“But to be able to hold hands with Iida, how many years will that take to happen?”

“What if he’ll only hold hands after marriage?”

“Haha, isn’t that too much?” Kendou just laughs at the A girls jokes.

Suddenly the A girls got serious and slightly had their heads tilted.

“If it’s Iida, I don’t think it’s possible.”

“Seriously?”

“Because he’s an overly hyper serious person.”

Everyone wasn’t a fan of that kind of trait, they girls could just imagine him trying to do laundry.

“Okat, how about Midoriya?!”

“Huh?!”

Ochako was taken back by the sudden mention of Midoriya by Ashido, she tries to suppress her frantic beating heart, she was getting tired of this feeling.

“That kid, right now… I’m kinda unsure.”

“Who? Midoriya?”

“If I can recall, didn’t he have those crazy field tactics where he used the buried landmines during the sports festival, he fought ruthlessly but when I see him at school, in the corridors or the cafeteria, his image… it’s a little different.” said Kendou

Ochako seemed like she had something to say as she was about to open her mouth but the various feelings in side of her were all over the place, all she could do was silently disagree.

“I see, I think Midoriya chan is a very hardworking person, everyday he does his best for the purpose of becoming a hero.” said Tsuyu as she turns to the side, Ochako nods her head in mutual agreement.

“…. When I see Deku kun, he makes me want to do better.”

Kendou smiles as she manages to locks eyes with the Ochako who was trying her best to talk even though her heart was frantically racing.

“I see, to have someone who makes you feel like that, it’s great.”

Ochako smiles knowing that, even though it was just a bit she was able to tell them about how great Izuku was.

Suddenly Ashido remembers something in addition to Midoriya.

“Isn’t he kinda an All might Otaku?”

“What if on a date with his girlfriend, he takes her to an All Might hand shaking event, he’s going to bring All Might?” Hagakure and Yaoyorozu carried on.

“I can imagine that.”

“Eh, but doesn’t he see him at school already?”

Even if All Might was already a teacher at Yuuei, Ashido and Yanagi agreed Midoriya would probably still visit an All Might hand shaking event.

“Well, that’s the kind of guy Midoriya is.”

“I mean, on a date with his girlfriend, he really seems like the type of person to take her to an All Might hand shaking event.”

“Well, that’s probably true.”

Ochako could also imagine that being the case as Hagakure spoke.

“Probably not good to have him as a boyfriend.”

“Yep.” Yanagi nods along with Koudai and just like that Midoriya was crossed off the list of boyfriend potentials.

Ochako was slightly blushing, as she gritted her teeth as a slight bitter expression covered her face.

“Alright, what about Bakugou?”

“Never.”

This time Kyouka was the one doing the crossing off the list.

“He’s definitely a high achiever, and his future seems promising… but with that attitude?! Never!”

Continuing on from Bakugou, the girls sieved through the list of boys, but they were extremely strict in judgement, their bubble of expectations began to pop one by one.

“What is this? if this carries on the only thing we’ll be getting butterflies over is going to be the supplementary lessons.. uuuh, I just want to experience something warm and fuzzy inside!” 

[rankpup8]

Bismuth and Jasper pt2

Bismuth, ah Bismuth, you lovely gem, you flirty rock. Here’s my list of things that could happen after the Redemption...

When she comes back and gets the much needed Steven Approval, she will be grumpy. Her redemption will require lots of communication, specially with Pearl and Garnet, and it will ultimately lead to the three of them growing as "people". 

She will spend a lot of time reminiscing about the Good Old Days, telling tales of heroic Crystal Gems and teaching Steven, Amethyst and Peridot about their heritage. Since she was in bubble since the war, she has all the Crystal Gem ideas fresh in her mind and she's always willing to share. 

She likes peridot, finds her both amusing and interesting. And Peri likes her back, even though she finds Bismuth a bit intimidating at the beginning. They talk a lot about homeworld then vs now, Peridot teaches Bismuth about era 2 and Bis tells her of the old days. They also make fun of homeworld a lot. These conversations last for hours. 

With Lapis... it’s just akward. They don’t really like each other, and since Bismuth is The Most Crystal Gem and comes directly from the war time Lapis specially resents her. But they don’t fight, just... not talk. At all. 

She never really let's go on the idea of shattering gems, in the battle field it's killed or be killed, although she does concede to make it a last resort thing and not using the breaking point. "We're not howlites, just waiting for the moment to break someone's gem. Remember we were all Homeworld gems at some point, shattering is not the answer." She is convinced of this more after interacting with Peridot and Amethyst, and later with the Famethyst and the Off-Colors.

"I guess I was desperate, in the middle of a war that we had reason to believe we would lose. But we fought so hard for everything that we achieved - we were so happy! I couldn't let all of that get lost. Even if it meant shattering a few gems. 

But the war is over now, and both sides lost, there's no point in thinking about that. The only gems we gotta fight now are those corruptions, and healing them is our goal." 

Steven disagrees with her view on the end of the war, but Bismuth dismisses his retort, he wasn't there. 

[Pearl and Garnet partially agree, but with hope of un-corrupting gems and after all these years to get over it, they can't help but feel that in the end the Crystal Gems were victorious, no matter how long it takes to bring the gems back. And they have also learnt to appreciate the Earth for itself] 

So now it's a game of Where The Fuck Will Bismuth Go? And here is where I have no idea what will happen so it tranforms into the back story of my Ideal Jaspmuth Universe (or, y’know, my fanfic).

She can't stay in the temple because that's where my boy Steven lives. The barn works for a while, actually, but it gets awkward around Lapis and, tbh, Bismuth doesn't really like the farm lesbian aesthetic (rip). They immediately dismissed the idea of Bissy living in the forge ‘cause as much as she loves her work place that's no place to live. After a while of thinking and exploring they come across an old CG building, one that Bismuth remembers, 

"The House!" 

"Who's house?" 

"Our house, made by bismuths, for bismuths (and their friends). We never really got to finish it but you can see we were almost there" 

It's a half finished building, two stories high but really big, with half a dozen spacious rooms in the second floor and a living room and storage space in the first. Laying around the house there's a bunch of old artifacts and tools that belonged to the bismuths and their friends. 

"One thing that we were always thinking of during the war was what the heck we were gonna do after. Where are we gonna live, how we'll we work, stuff like that. Us bismuths decided to tackled one problem at a time, starting with housing. We wanted to make a place for us to live and work in, where we could be together without having to worry about anyone else, so we built this house: The Bismuth Base. 

It was meant to have room for every bismuth in the rebellion and then some, also space to leave our stuff, to make stuff and do stuff. The original plan was to build a little fence around it and make a few sheds as well, maybe even make more residences for other gems nearby, if they asked... but as you can see, it was never finished." 

Bismuth needs some alone time, also things to do, she might as well stay here and finish what she and her sisters started. The others protest, saying that she shouldn't be living alone and away, but Bis insists, there's a warp pad nearby and she can visit everyday, besides, don't they need a place to put all of the new recruits? Didn't they mention something about dozens of amethyst and jaspers and a carnelian that would probably join them? Or those off color homeworld gems, they need a home! So Bis gets to stay in the BBase (as long as she visits everyday). And she does. 

Eventually, Jasper becomes the first gem to join her. 

[Bismuth headcanons:

 She loves playing board games and cards, it's a fun way to pass the time with friends and learn more about them 

She never really enjoyed food, the taste is good but digestion... ugh. She will if offered but she'd rather not 

Hates pants, they enclose your legs, like a cloth prison (also she has great legs why hide ‘em) 

Not very good at art, she makes practical stuff not necessarily pretty ones 

Met lapis before the war but nether really remembers it: during the making of the sea spire 

Made the breaking point during the worst part of the war, when almost all hope was lost (in the last couple of centuries)

Had she not been bubbled it's probable that the rebellion would have been split (meaning they would have definitely lost) 

Never really forgives Rose 

Likes humans, they make interesting things 

Had a low-key crush on Pearl back when they met 

Taught other gem types to make things such as weapons and tools, held this classes very often 

Bad pilot, cannot land or leave orbit in one piece 

Humans taught her puns and She Won't Stop Using Them Ever 

Made the breaking shortly after Shorty (another bismuth, one of her friends) was shattered, nearing the end of the war 

If she was human she would be Bolivian

]

[other bismuths (as a gem type) stuff: 

Bismuth had two main bismuth friends back in the day: Rainbow and Shorty 

Bismuths come in all colors so their pretty easy to differentiate. Don't know a Bismuth's preferred name? Saying her primary colors is fine 

There's around a 100 CG Bismuth's at the height of the rebellion 

But by the time the worst of it comes there's less than 40 

Really good at working like a team, scary good at being in sync (almost like pearls) 

All Bismuths on earth came from other planets, none were made here

Worked closely with Lapis Lazulis and miner type gems

Clothing and painting pattern: squares that look similar to the insides of their gems. Very colorful.] 

BISMUTH OC: RAINBOW 

Rainbow was taller than Bismuth and had even more colors in her hair shorter hair, specially greens and yellows and blues. Her skin was more greenish as well. 

She was an enthusiastic gem, always ready for work and battle, friendly enough although not very good at conversations. 

She met a Ruby when she joined the CGs, one that she couldn't stand at the beginning but the lil red gem grew on her and Rainbow ended up developing a crush on her. 

During the war she was introduced to the human habit of weaving for which she's horrible, but she's really good with colors and painting and Ruby can weave so together they made some amazing pieces of art. 

Right shoulder gem 

In charge of BBase decoration 

Good singing voice, it’s deep  

Corrupted (the ruby was taken by homeworld and reprogrammed like most captured soldier gems) 

BISMUTH OC: SHORTY 

As you can guess by the name Shorty is shorter than most bismuths 

She was the youngest bismuth in the rebellion 

An amazing architect and general designer, she planned most of the CG buildings 

She also designed all of Bismuth's fancier weapons 

Bad at forging 

She is more on the blue side of bismuths, her hair is primarily blue and purple with some pink sprinkled in, her skin is the just a little bit darker than Bismuths 

Back of the head, under hair gem (en la nuca) 

Bismuth was like her mentor, she taught Shorty everything she knew about building and guided her 

Not very out going or good at social situations, pretty shy 

People perceive her as serious but really most of the times it's cause she has nothing to say and that's her neutral face 

A good friend, worries about you 

Will not stand for bullshit though, stick to the plan or she will leave you to do the work by yourself 

Really honest 

Is really proud of that one dagger Bismuth helped her make. Shorty forged it herself and it has a special place in her heart 

Everyone was always trying to steal it though, it was a running joke among the CGs 

Made the blue prints for the house 

Shattered (why am I like this) 

[yellowcatcassette]

Your Friend Who Doesn’t Hate You Somehow, Abalone

Dear Ham, So they found Emma’s body finally. It took three weeks, but the police got around to checking the woods twice. I have to say, dumping her body into the stream in the middle of the forest was rather clever. The murky water really did mess her up, although the woods was an obvious place to check. Personally, I think you could have taken it a step further and tied her to a rotting deer or something, to throw off her scent from the police dogs, but that's just my opinion.

By the time they found Emma, she was a disaster. It was revolting, seeing one of your friends’ bodies rotting away. I wasn't even supposed to see it, but I pushed my way past the officers anyway. The trauma I received from looking upon her decaying body will last about a good lifetime or so, you know how it is.

You probably knew that we would all figure out in the end. Otherwise you would still be here. But knowing you, you would have run away anyway. You are always so sensitive to guilt. After all, you're Honest Abe. But that’s a good thing. You’d disagree, but guilt keeps us sane.

It didn't take long for the blame to land on you since you obviously hated Emma so much. You were especially verbal about it when she stole your pocket knife the day before. I get that you hated her, but was it necessary to call her a whore, all because of a crummy pocket knife? And as if that wasn't bad enough, you had to straight up kill her the next day. I sometimes wonder how you and her were apparently friends once, a long time ago.

I feel responsible somehow, like there was something I could have done. This past year I saw everything slowly changing for the worse. I could have helped you somehow.  Maybe both you and Emma would still be around if I did.

Alfred was the first to suggest that you did it, and at first we all were too scared to even think such a thing. Everyone but Caroline gave up on trying to deny it in a short amount of time. Caroline has been hoping for the best even after all the evidence found, but I think now she’s finally coming to terms with the truth.

I’d also like to point out we saw that your web history included the Google search, “Where to hide dead body?” I actually laughed when we found that, I mean, how could you not?

Your parents are doing really bad. I remember how you always said things like, “They don't care about me at all.” That never was true at all. They're broken because of all of this.

You are worrying Marisol and Howie to death (Is it too soon? I couldn't resist, sorry) as well. Marisol is leaving for college in a month, so your recent disappearance is not making her move any easier. As for Howie, oh God, he really looked up to you, you know that? I can't stand to be around him anymore because I hate to catch him in these moments when there's tears billowing in his eyes. Those episodes happen so often. He said he doesn't care about you killing someone. He just doesn't want his big brother to end up in jail like your grandpa. Did you think of your family at all before all this?

You're famous, all over the news. Remember how we'd joke about you being on TV as a judge in Cupcake Wars? I’d rather watch you overly criticize flamboyant cupcakes and crush bakers’ dreams than see your school photo under the headline “Connecticut Teen Murders Fellow Student” or “Abraham Palomer Still Missing after Three Weeks.”

At school, literally everyone can't focus anymore, the students, or the teachers. With summer coming, we were all losing it anyway, but it became so much more difficult in the past weeks.

A lot for the girls in our grade hate you now, but that's not surprising. Emma was popular among them. But some of those idiots, you know who, are actually happy that you killed off Emma. I really hate those guys more than ever now. They're just so mean, always saying these terrible things about Emma and the rest of our friends and you and me. And even after she's dead and you're gone, they still say crap like nothing matters. To be honest, the things they say are more dreadful than murder.

As for the teachers, they refuse to give any attention to the situation. Mr. Can has completely forgotten about reading Macbeth after Emma died. Before we all laughed at all the death happening in the play. Two weeks ago, students were sobbing so hard when we reached this part where the son of Macduff died, and he was just a nameless minor character. We never continued reading after that, and the entire story was ripped from the final.

Mrs. Daniels was teaching us about the laws regarding murder in class the day after you left. She was obviously forcing herself to teach that stuff, so that lecture was probably coincidentally in her lesson plan. It was unfortunate timing, but that class made me realize that as much as I want you to come back, I still won't see you much if you did. You'd be in so much trouble, what with the laws and certain people wanting you dead. Every now and then a small side of me would think that maybe you'd be better off not coming back, but then the majority of me would want to see you again more than ever.

That's right, I want you to come back. As for the others, Alfred is devastated about Emma. I’d like to think that he doesn't hate you now, but that seems very likely. Jason is also, of course, upset about everything that happened. Yet I think he'd like to see you again too. Caroline isn't speaking at all now. You know how she wasn't much of a talkative person before, but I haven't heard her speak at all since you killed Emma. That's understandable, though. One of her best friends is dead and the other ran away. I can't imagine that pain. She knows both you and Emma better than I do.

I only really knew you for what, a little over a year now? I would have never thought that in a year, life would become rather hellish. It makes me want to turn back time so this would never happen.

The one thing I know for sure about you is that even if you ran away, you'd always be back at Baskin Robbins for National Ice Cream Day. You said you've been there every July 17 for the past ten consecutive years. And you'd always order your favorite flavor, nutty coconut. I still remember when I joined you guys for National Ice Cream Day from last year. Oh, the infamy. You went crazy when they ran out of that disgusting flavor before we arrived. But that was a happier time. Now I can't help but feel sickly nostalgic. I hate the taste of nostalgia more than nutty coconut ice cream.

July 17 is 27 days away from the day I am writing this.  This year I’m planning on going with only Caroline and Jason.  The three of us will be staying in Baskin Robbins the entire time the place is open, 11 a.m. to 10 p.m.You once swore that you’d only miss National Ice Cream Day when you’re dead. If you don’t show up between those hours, we will seriously assume the worst.

You'd think it’s a stupid plan, and I kinda agree, but it's all we got. You left your phone smashed in your bed sheets and there's so many other places you could be.

Because of that, I’m having trouble on debating where to leave this note so you can find it. If you’re reading this, that must mean wherever I decided to hide it must have been a great decision. Jason said that there’s a one in a million chance that you would even see this, let alone read through the entire thing, but I’ll still try for what it’s worth.

With all that said, I seriously miss you Ham. I don't know how everyone else feels, or do I even care, but I want you to come home. Please don't be afraid. I actually  forgive you for everything. I was heartbroken at first, but staying heartbroken forever seems to be really boring. Whatever happens next, I'll always think of you as a great person and one of the best people I've ever met.

It's terrible and stupid of me, maybe, to still think that we could remain friends after this. I feel like I should actually hate you so much right now, but I don't. Despite everything, I refuse to think less of you. And you need help more than ever. These weeks have been rough, but I can imagine it has been hurting so much more for you. We’ll fix this mess together, I promise. I really hope you're still alive, otherwise this whole note is pointless.

But I’m determined nonetheless. I have to let you know that some of us love you still. Come home, Ham. Please. Please. Please. Please.

Your friend who doesn't hate you somehow, Abalone

P. S. Coconut and nuts shouldn't belong together, and definitely not in ice cream form.

P. S. S. If you're incarcerated when you return, I promise I'll bring you your dumb ice cream flavor on a waffle cone everyday.

P. P. S. S. If you don't want to come back, please at least take care of yourself. I don’t need more dead friends.

P. P. S. S. S. The last day of school is tomorrow. I thought you'd like to know.

P. P. P. S. S. S. I'm the one who stole your pocket knife.

I'm sorry. If there's anyone to blame, it's actually me.

[songbirdspells]

We’re All Different and We’re All the Same (aka Examining Chthonic and Olympian Deity Distinctions)

Not going to bury the lede on this one. This paper deals specifically with the idea that chthonic gods should not be considered a class apart from Olympian (ouranic) gods and should instead be considered something akin to different aspects of the same god and/or just a title. And instead of drawing boxes and putting deities into firm “this deity is a chthonic deity and we worship them in x, y, z manner because they are chthonic” and “this deity is Olympian so we worship them in a, b, c manner because they are Olympian” we should instead approach each deity as an individual entity and decide: why are we worshiping this deity today? What aspect are we honoring? What is the most appropriate method to worship this aspect?

Chthonic gods are gods of the realm beneath the earth, which is the realm of souls. They are not gods of the souls for, strictly speaking, only living men worship the gods. They are rulers of souls; while from the standpoint of men who offer them worship, they are gods whose home is below the earth, gods who are associated with souls.(246)

Fairbanks starts by examining instances of Olympian vs Chthonic mentions in literature. By doing this he points out while the terms Olympian and and chthonic gods are divided by their domains (chthonic being of or below the earth—Olympian being the deities of the space above earth’s crust), Aischylos and Sophocles use a word that translates better to “resting place of souls” or “spirits of the dead” rather than agricultural ties as is often argued. Fairbanks goes on to point out that, “The number of gods who are thus connected with souls and with the abode of the dead are quite limited. They may be divided into two classes: gods who have no other function, and gods who are connected with the Olympic group, but who also have something to do with souls”(243). He mentions that the Erinyes [the Furies], Ge [Gaia], Hermes, Demeter, Persephone, Hekate, and Zeus all have strong ties in literature to the realm of the dead and/or to the souls of the departed.

We’ll note at this time that Zeus, Hermes, and Demeter all are considered “Olympian” despite these ties. Hermes is the best known for being the herald and guide of the dead. Souls, especially freshly departed ones, were considered under his care. Demeter is not tied to the “chthonic” epithet in the poetry samples Fairbanks studied however he does point out that Herodotus tied her chthonic aspect to her role as “goddess of the Mysteries” since the Eleusinian goddess granted special blessings after death(245). Zeus is something of an odd duck since we really do not normally associate him with the realm of souls—yet Fairbanks points out that Zeus’ thunder reaches the underworld in Homer’s poetry, as well as Attic tragedies, Cretan poetry, Sophocles, and Aischylos. In fact, in Aischylos, the thunder is specifically referred to as chthonic thunder since it “comes from the earth” (245) (probably referring to earthquakes? It is not clear). Even Apollo is mentioned at least once as tending to souls. (246)

Fairbanks sums it up best: “The truth seems to be that this connection between gods of the earth as receiving the dead (a poetic use) and gods of the earth as producing the grain (a cultus use) is purely local. […] It is only in the Peloponese, however, that any close connection between agricultural deities and chthonic deities proper can be proved.” (247-248) He goes on to posit that it is probably best to use chthonic only for gods that are associated with souls, not all gods who are given the chthonic title at times (like Apollo, Artemis, Poseidon, the wind daimones, heroes, etc).

Moving on to state worship and local cultus, Fairbanks had this to say about ritual, worship and the Olympian/Chthonic deities:

“Later the connection of the gods with state worship was so intimate, the fortunes of the god were so bound up with the fortunes of the state itself, that is hardly possible to conceive of a national god as being angry with the state where he was worshipped except in case of gross neglect or insult. […] The question whether or not it was acceptable to the god would not arise, for both god and ritual had become part of the state life. […] The chthonic gods with all their uncanny associations clearly belong to the latter class of divinities, whose anger is easily roused, but who have the power to send special blessings. At the same time this class is not limited to the chthonic gods, for it includes heroes as well as Olympic divinities who have nothing to do with souls.” (250)

I know it’s a long quote but let’s break it down. Fairbanks is muddling all his timelines a bit but what he is talking about it how as time progressed in the ancient Greek empire—religion became more and more of a loud, public affair. There is a lot of literature discussing how rituals became more elaborate as time wore on because of the public aspect of it—with people watching, naturally the inclination was to be over the top to show publicly how ‘pious’ one was. However, the unintended consequence of the religion spreading and becoming mainstream in Greek life is that everyone had their own method of worship.

With priests often being elected officials that would only serve a year or two (with only a handful of noted exceptions), everyone brought what they could to offer their deity, whether or not it was a traditionally appropriate gift. I use this example every time but it’s still applicable: war spoils were a somewhat regular offering to Asclepius, god of medicine, especially after Alexander the Great began offering Asclepius shields from battles he had won. Weapons were also offered to goddesses like Aphrodite and Hera, despite them not originally having any war aspects. Everyday offerings were less from a prescribed list of goods and more what was available and what was from the worshipers hearts.

Bringing that back to chthonic deities—while the chthonic deities could bring down a fearful wrath if they were wronged they could also grant great boons. They were treated like all other deities otherwise. There were certain offerings made during high rituals and festivals, however, even during the festivals there were many examples of local cultus demanding something other than the traditional black animal and sober (wineless) sacrifice.

However, regarding their fearful wrath, Fairbanks points out scholars such as K.O. Muller suggest that only chthonic gods received propitiation offerings (appeasement offerings). Fairbanks disagrees with this assessment. While chthonic deities received the majority of the propitiation offerings there are almost no clear references to propitiation offerings to Hades or Persephone, except the ones mentioned by Homer.(253) There are also no clear references to any propitiation offerings to Demeter except for perhaps one sacrifice noted in Lykosoura. Hekate does have many references of propitiation sacrifices—“the blood of dogs was used to purify the superstitious, while the bodies were left at the crossroads”(254)—but Fairbanks points out that the dogs are not a typical propitiation sacrifice but instead unique to Hekate. In fact, the only regular recordings of what we would consider a “proper” propitiation sacrifice are given only to the Erinyes (the Furies). They are given black animals in all the areas that have shrines and rituals dedicated to them.

But wait, you might be asking yourself. Isn’t Zeus and other Olympian deities given propitiatory offerings regularly? Well, sure, they are. But they’re not all ‘traditional’ offerings and they are given for different reasons in different regions. In addition, with the clear evidence of propitiatory offerings given to Zeus, Apollo, Athena, the Winds, Artemis, etc, we can safely reject Muller’s opinion that only the chthonic gods were given these appeasement offerings. While the chthonic aspects of some of the gods may have received more offerings of the propitiatory type than the Olympian aspects they are not the only ones that the worshipers would seek to soothe. As a final note, Fairbanks points out these kinds of offerings and what was sacrificed in them is not unique to the gods but was also offered to the souls of the dead.

In conclusion, while ‘Chthonic’ is obviously a title distinct of certain aspects of gods—there is not sufficient evidence presented in ancient worship to hold them apart as totally separate deities who should be treated as a separate class of divinity. Because for every example of a “proper” chthonic ritual done to honor, say, Hekate, there are a handful or more examples of improper or even non-chthonic rituals to honor her. This holds true for all deities who hold the ‘chthonic’ title. Fairbanks says “The forms of worship correspond with the character of the gods,”(259) and I tend to agree with that assessment. Do not look at the epithets and aspects of the gods as individual parts you can take away and swap out. They are all the greater part of a whole being. While you can choose to not worship aspects or give praise to certain epithets—after all, they almost all came out of local cultus worship—they are a part of the gods’ history and thus a valid part of the divine being. So the idea that we can neatly box gods and goddesses into categories is short-sighted. Instead, examine each deity on their own terms and then decide how to approach them from that point. The chthonic aspects are as much of a regular part of a deity as their Olympian aspect. There is not some deep, abiding divide that is an insurmountable barrier. Love your deities as they are in whichever method that works for you and your worship practice. They have been here before and will understand.

Source: Fairbanks, Arthur. “The Chthonic Gods of Greek Religion.” The American Journal of Philology, vol. 21, no. 3, 1900, pp. 241–259. www.jstor.org/stable/287716.